Geostorm Surges, Greenland 2 Stumbles: Butler Caught in Disaster Flick Drama

Max Sterling, 1/10/2026 Gerard Butler outruns annihilation yet again, but "Greenland 2: Migration" limps under franchise fatigue while "Geostorm" claws its way up Tubi’s charts. In a world bent on ending, Hollywood keeps reaching for more—sometimes earnest, sometimes camp, always ready for one more popcorn-fueled apocalypse.

The seismic rumble, in 2025, isn’t coming from beneath LA’s crust. It’s shaking up the reputation of “Greenland 2: Migration,” the follow-up to Butler’s 2020 surprise hit. Remember when the original “Greenland” hit screens? The critics actually seemed startled to find a pulse—77% on Rotten Tomatoes, apparently for the sheer nerve of giving human stakes to planet-ending peril. The new installment, on the other hand, feels like someone forgot to restock on adrenaline. Languishing in the upper fifties on Rotten Tomatoes, “Migration” seems content to migrate south—in more ways than one.

Feedback has been less a roar, more a collective shrug echoing through the halls of criticism. Over at Collider, Nate Richard can practically be heard sighing mid-sentence: “There’s not much more you can do with this story….” Simon Thompson at The Playlist gently wonders whether anyone really asked for this repeat road trip. David Ehrlich, for IndieWire, takes the gloves off entirely, lamenting its generic action veneer. And if compliments trickle in, they do so with a raised eyebrow: Derek Smith notes it’s become a familiar thriller; Robert Daniels, with rare optimism, points out the movie throws its punches with impressive force—even if those punches look a bit recycled.

So where did things start to crumble? There’s always a peculiar expectation with disaster flicks—they’re asked to walk this fine wire between calamity as spectacle and the daunting, everyday work of staying alive after the sky falls. The original “Greenland” managed a sort of emotional, boots-in-the-mud credibility. Its sequel, apparently, trades urgency for malaise; the cinematic equivalent of the long drive home after the meteor hits, the thrill dampened by survivor’s guilt and—yes—multiplex fatigue.

That said, if critics busied themselves dissecting “Migration” as if it were a specimen pinned under glass, audiences have been quietly rediscovering another Butler classic that’s about as subtle as a swinging satellite: “Geostorm.” Dismissed upon its 2017 release and taking home a Rotten Tomatoes score that can only be described as post-apocalyptic—18%, for anyone keeping score—this $120-million digital storm has found new legs in the streaming wasteland. Somehow, “Geostorm” barged its way into Tubi’s Top 10, elbowing aside beloved cult films and, oddly, charming droves of free-streaming thrill-seekers. Maybe it’s the nostalgia factor—those halcyon, pre-pandemic days when killer satellites made for escapist fare rather than thinly veiled allegory. Or, perhaps, it’s Butler’s battered, relatable charisma, stumbling through CGI tempests with the poise of a man who just missed his connecting flight. There’s even a possibility—though film scholars may groan at this—that the audiences are simply in the mood for no-nonsense, over-the-top schlock. Camp, after all, never really goes out of style.

On the other side of town (metaphorically speaking), Butler never seems far from another genre hustle. He’s locked into more “Den of Thieves,” the ongoing saga of improbable bank heists; he’s prepping to bellow stoically as Stoick the Vast in the live-action “How to Train Your Dragon 2.” By now, disaster isn’t just a cinematic trope for Butler—it’s a way of life, a steady job in a union town where the world ends every summer, give or take a holiday weekend.

Pulling the lens back, though, all this feels symptomatic of a bigger quandary plaguing disaster cinema. On the maximalist end stands Bay’s “Armageddon”—a movie so extra, it could power a small city with its bravado. The plot’s a fever dream, the editing is caffeine incarnate, and the emotional core is delivered with the self-serious gusto of a high school drama coach. But it works—because it doesn’t care if it’s ridiculous. “Greenland 2,” conversely, feels hesitant, locked in a pessimistic cycle of avoiding silliness while never quite recapturing the lightning-in-a-bottle freshness of the first film. If disaster films are a tightrope act, too much restraint is just as risky as a full face-plant into cheese.

It’s worth wondering—maybe even out loud—what draws us back to these stories over and over. Is it the thrill of watching things fall apart on someone else’s watch, or perhaps the comfort that, no matter how bad things get, there’s always another hero with a pocket flashlight and a stubborn streak? Disaster movies have always mirrored their eras’ collective unease, but in 2025, those anxieties twist between the urge to laugh and the need to be moved. Sometimes both, in the same scene.

In the end, as sure as the next Butler vehicle will roll down the pipeline, the appetite for cinematic apocalypse never truly dims. Hollywood keeps spinning the dial between gritty realism and delicious absurdity—and somewhere, a bowl of popcorn is quietly, unpretentiously waiting. As long as the credits keep rolling, there’ll be a Gerard Butler-shaped blur running across the screen, saving one world after another, even if it’s just from a mediocre sequel.

If there’s a law in the city of angels, it’s this: No catastrophe is ever final, at least not when a sequel can squeeze out a few more box office dollars. Enter Gerard Butler, once again pulling on his well-worn disaster boots—this time caught between the literal rubble of civilization and the more abstract debris of wobbly critical response and waning franchise goodwill.The seismic rumble, in 2025, isn’t coming from beneath LA’s crust. It’s shaking up the reputation of “Greenland 2: Migration,” the follow-up to Butler’s 2020 surprise hit. Remember when the original “Greenland” hit screens? The critics actually seemed startled to find a pulse—77% on Rotten Tomatoes, apparently for the sheer nerve of giving human stakes to planet-ending peril. The new installment, on the other hand, feels like someone forgot to restock on adrenaline. Languishing in the upper fifties on Rotten Tomatoes, “Migration” seems content to migrate south—in more ways than one.Feedback has been less a roar, more a collective shrug echoing through the halls of criticism. Over at Collider, Nate Richard can practically be heard sighing mid-sentence: “There’s not much more you can do with this story….” Simon Thompson at The Playlist gently wonders whether anyone really asked for this repeat road trip. David Ehrlich, for IndieWire, takes the gloves off entirely, lamenting its generic action veneer. And if compliments trickle in, they do so with a raised eyebrow: Derek Smith notes it’s become a familiar thriller; Robert Daniels, with rare optimism, points out the movie throws its punches with impressive force—even if those punches look a bit recycled.So where did things start to crumble? There’s always a peculiar expectation with disaster flicks—they’re asked to walk this fine wire between calamity as spectacle and the daunting, everyday work of staying alive after the sky falls. The original “Greenland” managed a sort of emotional, boots-in-the-mud credibility. Its sequel, apparently, trades urgency for malaise; the cinematic equivalent of the long drive home after the meteor hits, the thrill dampened by survivor’s guilt and—yes—multiplex fatigue.That said, if critics busied themselves dissecting “Migration” as if it were a specimen pinned under glass, audiences have been quietly rediscovering another Butler classic that’s about as subtle as a swinging satellite: “Geostorm.” Dismissed upon its 2017 release and taking home a Rotten Tomatoes score that can only be described as post-apocalyptic—18%, for anyone keeping score—this $120-million digital storm has found new legs in the streaming wasteland. Somehow, “Geostorm” barged its way into Tubi’s Top 10, elbowing aside beloved cult films and, oddly, charming droves of free-streaming thrill-seekers. Maybe it’s the nostalgia factor—those halcyon, pre-pandemic days when killer satellites made for escapist fare rather than thinly veiled allegory. Or, perhaps, it’s Butler’s battered, relatable charisma, stumbling through CGI tempests with the poise of a man who just missed his connecting flight. There’s even a possibility—though film scholars may groan at this—that the audiences are simply in the mood for no-nonsense, over-the-top schlock. Camp, after all, never really goes out of style.On the other side of town (metaphorically speaking), Butler never seems far from another genre hustle. He’s locked into more “Den of Thieves,” the ongoing saga of improbable bank heists; he’s prepping to bellow stoically as Stoick the Vast in the live-action “How to Train Your Dragon 2.” By now, disaster isn’t just a cinematic trope for Butler—it’s a way of life, a steady job in a union town where the world ends every summer, give or take a holiday weekend.Pulling the lens back, though, all this feels symptomatic of a bigger quandary plaguing disaster cinema. On the maximalist end stands Bay’s “Armageddon”—a movie so extra, it could power a small city with its bravado. The plot’s a fever dream, the editing is caffeine incarnate, and the emotional core is delivered with the self-serious gusto of a high school drama coach. But it works—because it doesn’t care if it’s ridiculous. “Greenland 2,” conversely, feels hesitant, locked in a pessimistic cycle of avoiding silliness while never quite recapturing the lightning-in-a-bottle freshness of the first film. If disaster films are a tightrope act, too much restraint is just as risky as a full face-plant into cheese.It’s worth wondering—maybe even out loud—what draws us back to these stories over and over. Is it the thrill of watching things fall apart on someone else’s watch, or perhaps the comfort that, no matter how bad things get, there’s always another hero with a pocket flashlight and a stubborn streak? Disaster movies have always mirrored their eras’ collective unease, but in 2025, those anxieties twist between the urge to laugh and the need to be moved. Sometimes both, in the same scene.In the end, as sure as the next Butler vehicle will roll down the pipeline, the appetite for cinematic apocalypse never truly dims. Hollywood keeps spinning the dial between gritty realism and delicious absurdity—and somewhere, a bowl of popcorn is quietly, unpretentiously waiting. As long as the credits keep rolling, there’ll be a Gerard Butler-shaped blur running across the screen, saving one world after another, even if it’s just from a mediocre sequel.