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Dante's Peak Roger Donaldson (12) Basquiat Julian Schnabel (15) Love Lessons Bo Widerberg (12) The Railway Children Lionel Jeffries (U) Driftwood Ronan O'Leary (18) Larger Than Life Howard Franklin (PG)

The disaster movie, that cruel strain of undiluted schadenfreude, never had much time for beating around the bush. You always knew who was going to meet a messy end, and when, and how. The new film Dante's Peak, which joins Daylight and Twister in exhuming elements of this 1970s genre, remains faithful to the idea that an audience should take comfort in knowing that everyone will get what they deserve. So when we first alight in the eponymous picturesque town and find its inhabitants celebrating a recent poll that has declared their home to be the second most desirable location to live in the USA, you know for sure that the next two hours will see a severe downward shift in that chart placing - particularly since the setting earns its name from the snoozing volcano that looms above the rooftops. Pride before a seismic catastrophe, as the saying goes.

The Mayor, Rachel Wanda (Linda Hamilton), congratulates her neighbours on making Dante's Peak "a wonderful place to raise a family", and later the camera notices a sign that smugly, if inauspiciously, promises the best espresso east of Seattle. This town is so pleased with itself that nothing less than an apocalypse would suffice; you'll find yourself rubbing your hands at the thought of lava coursing through its streets long before the first rumblings have panicked visiting vulcanologist Harry Dalton (Pierce Brosnan).

What you may not anticipate are the bewitching images that the director Roger Donaldson uses to illustrate how nature's wrath can sculpt landscapes of twisted beauty out of carnage. When the entire town becomes blanketed with ash, it's only a few shades of grey away from resembling an idyllic winter tableau. The volcano itself is lent a strange physical presence as it wakes from its slumber, sporting a spectacular burgeoning bouffant of smoke that spirals into the sky. When the lava hits the fan, Donaldson is wisely frugal with depicting injuries - an early shot of two lovers who have been boiled to death while skinny-dipping acts as an effective shorthand, enabling the rest of the film to keep gore to a minimum.

Dante's Peak suffers badly from a screenplay that is as derivative as its premise, but the willingness in surrendering to absurdity makes it intermittently entertaining. It would have been interesting to see more time devoted to one minor character - the helicopter pilot whose attempts to negotiate a pay increase during moments of crisis, and who then charges evacuees to airlift them out of the volcano's path, make him the closest thing the film has to a villain. But you can enjoy the picture for its dumb pleasures: the various diversions through rivers of pulsing lava just to save granny or the family pooch; and Brosnan's immovable smirk, which confirms that he realises just how ridiculous the whole thing is - but he's having a whale of a time all the same.

Basquiat, the first feature from the artist Julian Schnabel (see artist and critic Matthew Collings' article on artists at the cinema, overleaf), traces the rise to prominence of Schnabel's friend and fellow New York painter Jean-Michel Basquiat (Jeffrey Wright) in the late 1980s, but rarely justifies its place on a cinema screen. What keeps it afloat is the delicious supporting cast. David Bowie's mannered, measured and sympathetic portrayal of Andy Warhol; Benicio Del Toro, alive with the energy absent from the rest of the film as Basquiat's friend; and Courtney Love, who steals every second of her brief screen time as a petulant chiffon-scarfed glamourpuss.

At the centre of the film is a beguiling performance from Jeffrey Wright, who is magnetic despite being called upon to do nothing but react to the action around him. Ultimately, Schnabel's film is more a study of his own artistry than Basquiat's; the visual style seems inappropriately muted when an approach closer in spirit to the relentless electricity of Basquiat's own paintings could have resulted in a more dynamic work, not to mention a more pressing case for celebrating this vibrant artist through film rather than any other medium.

Love Lessons is a Swedish drama about a 15-year-old boy, Stig (Johan Widerberg), who begins an affair with his teacher Viola (Marika Lagercrantz). For the first 40 minutes, it's a beautifully controlled study in subtle eroticism whose spell remains unbroken even after the relationship has been consummated - the scene where Stig drops to his knees in an empty, echoing classroom so that he can kiss the chair where his teacher sits is painfully tender. Then Viola's husband, Frank (Tomas Von Bromssen), learns of the affair, and the screenplay takes a left-turn that it cannot build on, or recover from. Frank and Stig unexpectedly become friends.

At first you think that the unremarkable Widerberg has only earned the leading role because he's very young, very pretty and very much related to the director (his father). But his calm, sad presence grows on you and he lends the film what little emotional depth it has. The problem with Love Lessons is that it badly needs an editor - what could have been an engaging short film quickly becomes a severe test of patience.

The Railway Children gets a dusting down in time for the Easter break, though this isn't a re-release in the manner of Star Wars: no ear-splitting new soundtrack, computer-generated effects or drastic alterations to Jenny Agutter, thank goodness. Yes, you still need your hankie. The week's other new releases have been gathering dust for some time. Driftwood takes the plot of Misery - unhinged woman (Anne Brochet) finds injured man (James Spader) and contrives to keep him in her clutches, and invests it with a touch less cynicism, and a dash more heart, at least until it all spins garishly out of control. Larger Than Life gives Bill Murray a leading role, which is just dandy, so we'll try and forget that he has an elephant called Vera as his sidekick. But it's Murray's rent-a-grouch persona that sees you through: neither Vera's tiresome balancing tricks, nor a jaw- droppingly bizarre appearance from current heart-throb Matthew McConaughey as a twisted trucker can upstage him All films on release from tomorrow