SOMEONE please explain to director Roland Emmerich that, even though he's a German, it doesn't mean he has to keep sending what appear to be fat, big-budget love letters to the US as some form of misguided apology for the war.

Independence Day was quite enough, without adding The Patriot to the list.

Even though his latest project, The Day After Tomorrow, isn't quite as sycophantic towards the grand old US of A as some of his past efforts, it still has its heart wrapped in the Stars and Stripes, despite attempts to locate the action elsewhere.

A grand disaster movie in the cheesiest, creakiest traditions of Emmerich's own favourite films, The Poseidon Adventure and Earthquake, he's thrown all their clichs into the mix together but, unfortunately, whirled up a frothy and unengaging souffl even Amanda Barrie wouldn't send out from the kitchen.

Dennis Quaid stars in what is supposed to be the lead role as earnest climatologist Jack Hall, who, as the film begins, is trying to convince the sceptical vice president that global warming is having a more major effect on the world's weather than the authorities would like to admit.

And wouldn't you know, he's proven right as, at practically that precise moment, massive balls of ice plummet to the earth over Asia.

Switching to Scotland, where serious types Ian Holm and Adrian Lester simultaneously discover that a crisis is looming, Emmerich begins to pile on potential disaster for an apparent cast of hundreds, as birds flee, wolves escape and torrential rain begins to flood New York, stranding Sam Hall (Jake Gyllenhaal) hundreds of miles from his family.

But dad's on the way, because "Sam may not have one more day" - pass the bucket - and for the next several hours, we're treated to one very dull, prolonged disaster as Deep Impact meets Twister for huge waves and cars flying straight into the camera. Sound exciting? Think again.

One of Emmerich's traits is to feature small moments in the larger chaos, attempting to personalise the drama, but here the amount of this diversion simply detracts from the momentum of the core plot, meaning that when people are swiftly dispatched, we don't know their characters well enough to care.

That old reliable "Mr President" even pops up, but has so few lines as to make him nothing more than redundant. And even though Quaid and Gyllenhaal do a fine job, their parts are so limited that it reduces their big moments to sap.

Environmental change is a serious issue, but I'm not sure this big gimmick is the way to tackle it, especially a film which focuses on the "shredding" of the Hollywood sign rather than mass death.

Finally done to death by its own patronising "now let's all protect the universe" concluding message, this is, when it comes down to it, no more than a storm in a teacup.