The Poseidon Adventure (1972) — Review
7/10
I have watched this film a dozen times since 1972. That is not a brag. It is the disaster movie I put on when I want to watch one that respects its characters. The Poseidon Adventure is the founding document of the 1970s disaster genre. Airport got there first in 1970, but Poseidon set the template every disaster film of the decade copied. Trap a famous ensemble cast in a confined disaster, kill them off one at a time, let the survivors carry the message home. The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, Airport 1975, Airport ’77, every one of them owes the structure to this film.
The 7 reflects what the dozen viewings have confirmed. The film is dated in specific places that I notice every time. The pacing is slow by modern standards. The dialogue creaks in places. The religious philosophizing gets heavy-handed. But the bones still work, the ensemble is still one of the most carefully assembled in disaster cinema, and Gene Hackman is still Gene Hackman. The film holds at 7 on the rewatch test, which is a respectable score for a film of its age and the kind of score that puts it ahead of almost every disaster movie that came after.
The Setup
The SS Poseidon is making her final voyage from New York to Athens on New Year’s Eve. The ship is being scrapped at the end of this crossing. An undersea earthquake produces a rogue wave. The wave hits the ship broadside and capsizes her at midnight, mid-toast. The ballroom is now upside down. Most of the passengers and crew are dead. A small group of survivors realizes the hull, now floating upward, is their only path to rescue. They have to climb up through the inverted ship before it sinks.
That is the entire premise. The ship is the maze. Up is the goal. Everything else is character.
The Ensemble
This is where the movie earns its rating. Director Ronald Neame and producer Irwin Allen loaded the cast with recognizable faces and gave each one a defined function in the group dynamic. Every member of the survivor group gets a moment. The film moves the ensemble through the wreckage like a tactical squad, and each member’s death or survival means something because we have spent screen time with them.
Gene Hackman plays Reverend Frank Scott, a rebellious priest exiled to a mission in Africa for preaching that God helps those who help themselves. He is angry, bullying, and barely keeps his contempt for passive faith in check. Ernest Borgnine plays Detective Mike Rogo, a New York cop traveling with his ex-prostitute wife. Borgnine plays him as a man who knows his own limitations and resents being reminded of them. Stella Stevens plays Linda Rogo, Mike’s wife. The role could have been a one-note ex-hooker stereotype. Stevens plays her as a woman who genuinely loves her difficult husband and refuses to let his anger define her. Her death scene later in the film is the second most memorable in the movie.
Shelley Winters plays Belle Rosen, a former competitive swimmer with a bad heart, traveling to meet her grandson in Israel. Winters earned an Oscar nomination for the role. Jack Albertson plays her husband Manny, a hardware store owner from the Bronx. The Rosens are the emotional core of the film. Red Buttons plays James Martin, a lonely bachelor who runs a haberdashery and exercises obsessively. The character is on the cruise specifically to meet women, which becomes one of the film’s quieter ironies. Carol Lynley plays Nonnie, the ship’s lounge singer who loses her brother in the capsize. Nonnie sings “The Morning After” at the New Year’s Eve party right before the wave hits.
Roddy McDowall plays Acres, a wounded crewman with a hurt leg. He is the only survivor who knows the ship’s layout. His knowledge is critical and the film treats his death accordingly. Pamela Sue Martin plays Susan Shelby, a teenage girl traveling with her younger brother. She develops a quasi-romantic attachment to Scott during the climb that the film does not quite know what to do with. Eric Shea plays Robin Shelby, Susan’s younger brother and the only character besides Acres who actually understands the ship’s engineering. The kid reads ship plans for fun, which becomes useful when the adults need to understand which direction “up” is. Leslie Nielsen plays the Captain. This was eight years before Airplane! turned him into a comedy actor. He plays the role straight and dies in the first ten minutes.
Hackman As Scott
Hackman is the engine. His Reverend Scott is not a kindly mentor. He is angry, bullying, and certain. He preaches a God who respects action over prayer, and the movie tests him by killing people regardless of how much action they take. The famous final scene is Scott swinging across an open valve to shut off scalding steam, screaming at God for taking more lives, and then dropping into the fire so the others can pass. It is overwrought. It is also earned by everything that came before. Hackman commits to it completely. The line “How many more sacrifices? How much more blood? How many more lives?” is delivered with the kind of fury that only works because Hackman has spent ninety minutes setting it up.
For Writers
Hackman’s Scott works because the film does not soften him. He is unlikeable for most of the runtime. He bullies his survivors into climbing. He picks fights with Rogo. He delivers sermons no one asked for. The film trusts that the audience will follow the leader they need rather than the leader they like. The final sacrifice lands because Scott has been a difficult man rather than a noble one. If you write protagonists who carry a moral or philosophical position, resist the temptation to make them charming. Charm makes the position easier to dismiss. Difficulty makes the position earn its weight. Scott would not survive a contemporary studio note process. The film is better because he did not have to.
Shelley Winters Swimming
The other scene people remember. Belle Rosen, the former competitive swimmer with the heart condition, has to swim through a flooded corridor to clear the way for the others. She makes it across. The exertion kills her. The scene is one long held breath, and Winters earned her Oscar nomination for it.
It also pays off the entire character setup. Belle has been the comic relief, the worried wife, the woman everyone underestimated. The swim is not a heroic moment shoehorned in. It is the inevitable consequence of who she is. She tells Scott before the swim that she used to hold the Women’s Underwater Swimming Championship of New York. He does not believe her. She proves it. The scene works because the film has been planting the championship detail in throwaway dialogue across the runtime. When Belle volunteers, the audience already has the information needed to know she can do it. The film does not have to explain the swim. The film has been earning the swim since the second reel.
The Rogo Marriage
The most underrated element in the film is the marriage between Mike and Linda Rogo. Borgnine and Stevens play it as a real relationship. He is embarrassed by her past. She is tired of his shame. They love each other anyway. The film gives them small moments throughout the climb that establish the relationship, and when Linda falls to her death during the ascent through the propeller shaft, Mike’s grief is the rawest moment in the film.
It is also the moment Mike turns on Scott. He blames the reverend for leading them up, for getting Linda killed. The conflict carries into the final valve scene. Scott’s death is partially in response to Mike’s accusation. The film earns that confrontation by spending real time on the marriage first. A disaster film does not have to do this. Disaster films can use ensemble characters as ammunition for the body count and the audience will accept it. Poseidon spends the extra screen time on the Rogo relationship anyway, and the film is better for it.
Practical Effects
The capsized set was real. The cast climbed through actual inverted scenery built on a 20th Century Fox soundstage. The water was real water. When Hackman hangs from the valve wheel and drops, that is a stunt with a man and a wheel. The film won a Special Achievement Oscar for the work, which at the time meant the Academy did not have a visual effects category they wanted to use.
It still holds up because practical sets have a weight that digital water does not. When the actors strain against gravity in the inverted ballroom, the audience strains with them. The famous shot of the giant Christmas tree falling and forming an escape ladder up to the next level is achieved entirely through camera angle, set construction, and the physical commitment of actors actually climbing. There is no digital seam in the film because there are no digital effects in the film.
The Score And The Song
John Williams composed the score. This was three years before Jaws and five years before Star Wars made him the most famous film composer alive. The Poseidon Adventure score is not his most distinctive work, but the main theme is haunting and the New Year’s Eve sequence builds tension through orchestration in a way that prefigures his later disaster and horror scoring.
“The Morning After,” sung by Maureen McGovern over the closing credits and lip-synced by Carol Lynley in the New Year’s Eve scene, won the Oscar for Best Original Song. It became a Top 40 hit and one of the defining songs of 1972. The song’s placement in the film is also one of the script’s quiet pleasures. Nonnie sings a song about hope and tomorrow minutes before half the cast dies. The irony is not commented on. The audience picks it up or it does not. Either way, the song does its work.
What Is Dated
The religious framework is the main load-bearing element that does not age well. Scott’s sermons about a God who helps those who help themselves were heavy even in 1972. By 2026 they land like a lecture you did not sign up for. The film keeps insisting the religious question matters, and the audience keeps not caring.
Some of the supporting character writing creaks. Nonnie the lounge singer has nothing to do but be terrified and need rescue. The teenage subplot between Susan and Scott has an awkward undercurrent the film does not seem to know it is creating. The pacing in the first thirty minutes, before the wave hits, is slow even by 1970s standards. The dialogue occasionally tips into melodrama. “Up is down and down is up” is delivered as if it were profound. Scott’s speeches reach for grandeur and sometimes find it. Sometimes they do not.
None of this disqualifies the film. The dated elements are what 1972 looks like in 1972. The film is a product of its moment, and the moment had specific concerns and specific conventions. Watching it now means accepting that you are watching a 54-year-old movie and grading it accordingly. Most disaster films from 1972 do not survive that test. Poseidon mostly does.
The Verdict
A 7. The film is genuinely good, has aged unevenly, and remains worth watching for the ensemble work, Hackman’s performance, and the practical filmmaking. It is the founding document of a genre that produced a lot of garbage, and the founding document is still better than most of what came after.
I have watched this film a dozen times. I will watch it again. The ensemble work is dense enough that I notice new details every viewing. A small piece of business between Borgnine and Stevens that I missed the first six times. A specific choice in Hackman’s blocking during the valve scene that I caught on the eighth viewing. A line reading from Jack Albertson that I had not registered as the structural anchor it actually is. This is the test of a 7 on the rewatch scale. The film keeps offering something new even after I have memorized the plot. It will hold at 7 indefinitely.
If you have never seen it, watch it before you watch the 2006 remake. The comparison is instructive. The remake strips out everything the 1972 film cares most about, and a viewer who comes to the original after the remake will wonder why so much philosophical weight is being thrown around. A viewer who comes to the remake after the original will understand why the remake feels lean to the point of malnourishment. Both films are worth watching. The 1972 version is worth watching more than once.
FAQ
How does this compare to the 2006 remake?
The 2006 Poseidon is the same structural film with the religion stripped out, the runtime cut by twenty minutes, and the effects upgraded to digital. It is leaner and visually more impressive. It is also emotionally thinner. Both films land at 7 on the rewatch test for different reasons. The 1972 version has more depth and worse pacing. The 2006 version has better pacing and less depth. The comparison is instructive. See the Poseidon (2006) review for the companion piece.
Was the ship a real cruise liner?
The exterior shots used the RMS Queen Mary, which was already docked permanently in Long Beach, California, as a tourist attraction. The interior was a set built on a 20th Century Fox soundstage, designed to be capable of being inverted for the post-wave sequences. The capsizing itself was achieved with rotating set pieces and practical effects.
Why did Gene Hackman take the role of Reverend Scott?
Hackman had just won the Oscar for The French Connection and was looking for a different kind of role. Scott was the opposite of Popeye Doyle: spiritual rather than profane, philosophical rather than instinctive. Hackman has said in interviews that he saw the part as a chance to play a man whose certainty becomes his tragedy. The casting locked in once Hackman committed, and the rest of the ensemble was built around him.
Did the actors do their own stunts?
Mostly yes. Shelley Winters did her own swimming in the underwater corridor scene, though a double was used for some shots. Hackman did the climbing himself, including the final valve sequence. The set construction required actors to physically climb inverted sets, which meant most of the cast was doing genuine physical work for months. Several minor injuries occurred during production. The realism of the climbing sequences comes from the cast actually being exhausted on camera.
What does “There’s Got to Be a Morning After” have to do with the plot?
The song is performed by Carol Lynley’s character Nonnie at the New Year’s Eve party right before the wave hits. The lyrics become ironic in retrospect: a song about hope and tomorrow sung minutes before half the cast dies. It won the Oscar for Best Original Song and became a Top 40 hit when released by Maureen McGovern.
Who actually survives at the end?
Six people make it to the hull and are rescued by a Greek navy helicopter: Mike Rogo, Manny Rosen, James Martin, Nonnie, Susan Shelby, and Robin Shelby. Reverend Scott, Belle Rosen, Linda Rogo, and Acres all die during the climb. The captain and the rest of the passengers were killed in the initial capsize.
Is the 1979 sequel worth watching?
No. Beyond the Poseidon Adventure follows a salvage crew that boards the still-floating capsized ship to loot it. Michael Caine, Sally Field, and Telly Savalas star. The film is widely considered a low point for everyone involved. Caine has called it one of the worst films he has been in. Skip it unless you are a completionist.
How did The Poseidon Adventure influence later disaster films?
It established the template. Famous cast, confined disaster setting, group of survivors with defined roles, philosophical or moral question running through the action, ensemble character deaths spaced through the runtime. Every major disaster film of the 1970s borrowed from this structure: The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, Airport 1975, Airport ’77, Avalanche, When Time Ran Out. The structure persists today in films like Cloverfield and The Wave.
Why does Hackman get to be the philosophical center?
Because the film is structured around a religious question and Scott is the character who articulates it. Disaster films usually pick one character to carry the thematic weight. In Poseidon that character is Scott, and Hackman’s performance makes the question feel earned rather than imposed. A weaker actor in the role would have made the film feel like a sermon. Hackman makes it feel like a man wrestling with his God on the last day of his life. The difference between those two things is the difference between a forgotten film and a film that lasts.