For reasons I don’t need to spell out, I’ve been thinking a lot about disaster movies recently. I had to leave my home yesterday, something I – a deeply lazy person – avoid even in the healthiest of times, and it really was extraordinary how cinematic London was looking. Being American, London always looks cinematic to me, but on this occasion it seemed a lot more 28 Days Later than Mary Poppins. Public transport was so empty that when a busker came into the train carriage it was just him singing Send In The Clowns directly to me, an audience of one. It was simultaneously the most romantic/awkward thing that has ever happened to me, and I was so moved/mortified that I gave him a fiver and rushed back to the safety of home, like everyone else.

As a teenager of the 90s, I grew up watching disaster movies. Some people (my parents) might have thought that all those hours spent at the Odeon with Armageddon, Twister, Titanic and (perhaps most pertinently) Outbreak were yet more grains of sand of my life that I was merrily chucking into the void. In fact, I was nobly preparing myself for this moment. Disaster films teach us that, even while the world becomes scary and unmanageable, there are only half a dozen types of people, and there is something deeply reassuring about that predictability, now more than ever. So ask yourself: which disaster movie cliche do you want to be?

The noble scientist nobody listens to (until it is almost too late)
Probably the best character to be in a disaster movie, whether they are the actual lead (Dustin Hoffman in Outbreak, Dennis Quaid in The Day After Tomorrow) or a slightly secondary character, probably played by Jeff Goldblum. Alas, now every idiot with a conspiracy theory and access to social media thinks they are the noble scientist. But unless you are an actual scientist, you absolutely aren’t.

The stoic grande dame
The feisty no-nonsense person who stays calm while all the blethering fools around her collapse into hysteria: this is who we should all aim to be, but only up to a point. Any older person who insists they survived the Blitz so a cough won’t bring them down thinks they are the stoic grande dame, but they are fast crossing over into “idiot who dies an idiotic death” territory (see below). Grandes dames stay calm, but also stay sensible. After all, sometimes they survive (Kathy Bates in Titanic), sometimes they don’t (Elizabeth Hoffman in Dante’s Peak); but they always retain their dignity.

The idiot who dies an idiotic death
In my head, I’m the stoic grande dame; in my heart, I know I’m the idiot, too busy looking at my phone to notice the meteor heading straight to Earth. This character is rarely given a name and is usually knocked off in the opening 20 minutes, right after insisting there’s nothing to worry about. Related to him is the character known as “obnoxious pen-pusher with really bad advice”, who tells everyone not to listen to the good advice and ends up getting himself and/or others killed. The fools in The Poseidon Adventure who scoff at Gene Hackman’s ideas for getting out of the sinking ship are the classic examples; but Amity’s mayor in Jaws is probably the best known, keeping the beach open even as tourists are turned into chum. It was widely reported that in 2006 Boris Johnson cited Mayor Vaughn as “the real hero of Jaws”. But it’s best to make like the stoic grande dame and not think too much about that.

The disgraced (or divorced) person who needs redemption
Do you have an awkward past? Then this, my friend, is your moment. Think of Al the cop in Die Hard (Reginald VelJohnson), who gets over that whole accidentally-killed-a-child unpleasantness by helping Bruce Willis knock off Alan Rickman and save the Nakatomi Corporation. Die Hard (like Twister) also shows that, while a big disaster might have its downsides, it is a terrific way to convince your ex-wife to give you another chance. Willis’s not only falls into his arms at the end, but finally agrees to forgo her annoying feminist principles by taking his surname. Um, hurrah!

The kid with moxie (and doomed dog)
While every disaster movie needs an everyman hero, every hero needs a plucky moppet to scramble through awkward small entrances and do some clever eavesdropping on malicious politicians (Independence Day, The War Of The Worlds). Kids always survive, but their dogs, alas, have only about a 50/50 chance (RIP Pogo, in Attack The Block).

The noble president
No matter how bad or chaotic the disaster, as long as we have someone calm and steady in the White House, we will be fine: think of Morgan Freeman in Deep Impact, Bill Pullman in Independence Day, Harrison Ford in Air Force One (not quite a disaster film, but it will do). So, good president = good outcome. We’re all doomed.