9 / 10
Official trailer
The Towering Inferno is the best disaster film of the 1970s and the model against which every later disaster film has been measured.
John Guillermin directed the dramatic scenes and Irwin Allen directed the action sequences. Paul Newman plays Doug Roberts, the architect who designed the Glass Tower. Steve McQueen plays Mike O’Hallorhan, the San Francisco fire chief who has to put out the fire. The Glass Tower is the world’s tallest building. It catches fire on its opening night during a black-tie gala on the top floor.
The fire spreads down. Most of the celebrities at the gala die. Give me this over any other disaster movie of the decade. It’s big, it’s mean to its stars, and it’s angry at the right people, the ones who cut corners on the wiring and threw a party on top of it anyway. I’d trim a little of the slow gala buildup, and that’s about the only complaint I’ve got.
The cast is the largest A-list assembled for a disaster film in the era. William Holden as the developer. Faye Dunaway as Doug’s fiancée. Fred Astaire (Oscar nominated) as the con man swindling the rich widow. Robert Wagner. Robert Vaughn. Richard Chamberlain. O.J. Simpson as the security chief. Jennifer Jones in her final role. Susan Blakely. The film delivers a star in almost every scene. Several of them die.
The Construction Failure
The fire happens because the building’s electrical contractor cut corners. Richard Chamberlain plays the son-in-law contractor whose substandard wiring causes the initial short circuit. The setup is laid in patient detail during the first half hour.
Doug Roberts the architect repeatedly tries to flag the safety issues. The developer overrules him. The opening gala happens anyway. The wiring fails.
This is a film with a clear and specific antagonist that’s not a person. The antagonist is corner-cutting greed in a commercial construction project. The script names the cause.
The cause has consequences. The consequences are paid for by people who had nothing to do with the decision. The film is one of the more politically pointed disaster movies because it lets its cause be a real one.
The villain is a wiring invoice, and it’s a sharp choice. Chamberlain’s contractor pocketing the savings and Holden’s developer waving off the architect make me angrier than any masked killer could, because that kind of arrogance is real and everywhere.
For Writers
A disaster needs a cause to mean anything. Random disasters have less narrative weight than disasters someone caused. The Towering Inferno names its villain in the first act. The fire isn’t bad luck. The fire is the predictable result of one person’s particular decisions. The lesson is that even in a disaster story, attribution matters. The reader wants to know who’s responsible. Make the cause concrete and the disaster becomes a tragedy with a moral spine.
Newman and McQueen
The casting of Newman and McQueen was the major Hollywood event of 1974.
Both stars insisted on equal billing. Both demanded the same number of lines, the same number of close-ups, the same compensation. The compromise was that Newman’s name appears slightly higher on the left of the poster, McQueen’s slightly lower on the right. The same alternation runs through the credits. Each star received the same compensation. Both got the same dressing room facilities.
The on-screen result is two great stars dividing the film cleanly. Newman is the architect. McQueen is the fireman. They share the screen in the climactic third-act sequences. Their interactions are professionally cordial and not especially warm, and that’s correct for two competent men working under pressure. The film doesn’t bond them artificially. It lets them be two professionals doing different jobs.
Watching those two share a frame is a pleasure all by itself. McQueen’s fire chief has a weary impatience with everybody’s excuses that I adore, and Newman plays the architect’s guilt without ever begging for sympathy.
For Writers
Two protagonists in the same story can avoid the usual buddy-movie chemistry if the story justifies their professional distance. Newman’s architect and McQueen’s fireman don’t become friends. They don’t bond. They work together because the situation requires it. The lesson is that not every co-protagonist relationship needs to deepen across the story. Some relationships are professional and stay professional. Honor that and the work is more believable.
The Body Count
The film kills off an unusual percentage of its name cast. Fred Astaire’s love interest dies. The wedding party in the elevator dies.
Robert Wagner dies. Susan Blakely’s character gets a death that ranks among the most visually strong in 1970s cinema. The film doesn’t protect its stars. The Glass Tower kills celebrities because the Glass Tower is on fire and the fire doesn’t care.
This commitment to consequence separates the film from later disaster movies, where audience favorites are usually saved through implausible third-act rescues. The Towering Inferno lets the wrong people die, and I respect it enormously for that.
The deaths are mostly meaningless, and that’s what makes them hurt. Building failures kill the people in the building, whoever they are.
For Writers
Random death in a disaster story is more honest than narratively motivated death. The Towering Inferno’s deaths are mostly meaningless. They happen because the fire reached those floors. The film doesn’t assign moral weight to who lives and dies. The lesson is that a disaster that mostly kills the innocent is closer to reality than a disaster that conveniently kills the deserving. The audience may prefer karma. Reality is closer to physics.
Craft Note
John Guillermin directed dramatic scenes. Irwin Allen directed action. Stirling Silliphant wrote, adapted from two competing novels (The Tower by Richard Martin Stern and The Glass Inferno by Thomas N. Scortia and Frank M. Robinson). Paul Newman and Steve McQueen co-led. William Holden, Faye Dunaway, Fred Astaire (Oscar nominated), Robert Wagner, Robert Vaughn, Richard Chamberlain, Susan Blakely, Jennifer Jones, O.J. Simpson. John Williams scored. Released December 1974. Approximately fourteen million dollar budget. Two hundred and three million worldwide gross. Eight Oscar nominations, three wins.
Does The Towering Inferno still hold up?
9/10, and it’s the disaster film I’d put at the top of the 1970s without a second thought.
The script is patient, the cast is enormous, the deaths are real, and Newman and McQueen go from professional adversaries to professional collaborators without ever pretending to be friends. The only thing keeping it off a 10 is that patience, since the gala setup runs a few minutes longer than I need before the fire starts. Watch it.
