“Twisters,” released July 19 as a standalone sequel to the 1996 action film by (nearly) the same name, is a box office hit by any measure. The movie has grossed $220 million, received rave reviews from critics, and set the record for the most successful opening weekend for a natural disaster movie ever. Before last week, I didn’t even know that category existed.
Now it’s the best movie I’ve seen in years.
“Twisters” follows a storm-chasing scientist and her YouTuber sidekick on a mission to develop a formula to stop Oklahoma tornados in their track. I was reluctant to see it at first. Sorry, but I’ve always been more of the “Sound of Music” type.
For my friends, the chance to see the admittedly handsome Glen Powell (of “Top Gun: Maverick” fame) contributed more to the initial appeal than the tornados. Common Sense Media’s parent’s guide approved the movie for ages 12+, the new bar for those of us who are 21+ but prefer not to watch profanity-laden pornography on the big screen. So I joined my college roommates at the theater.
“Twisters” was a breath of fresh air, great not just for what it includes, but also for what it doesn’t.
For example: sex scenes.
There are various reasons I prefer not to watch simulated sex. Some call it prudish; I call it a healthy fear of God combined with a distaste for sitting next to a perfect stranger while we both witness sexual intercourse on an IMAX screen. It’s weird, despite Hollywood’s depraved effort to make it normal.
Not so in “Twisters.” Despite a slow-burn romance between the two storm-chasing leads, Kate and Tyler, we are spared sex scenes. There’s not even a kiss. A final smooch was filmed and later cut on Steven Spielberg’s recommendation. When my friends and I complained about this distinct lack of romantic resolution, I realized it was the first time in years a movie had left me wanting more.
“Twisters” opts for “something softer, sweeter, and full of enough concentrated yearning to implode a fire-tornado,” as Collider critic Kelcie Mattson aptly put it. But when Mattson laments the lack of physical intimacy, she fails to realize that the “roundabout delicacy” and “heart-skipping tropes” she enjoyed would have been undermined by the addition of soft-porn.
The movie left its audience with the breathing room to swoon at Tyler (Glen Powell) in a cowboy hat, fully clothed. When he hurts Kate’s (Daisy Edgar-Jones) feelings, he brings her an apology pizza. He takes her on a real-life date like a man. He risks his life to protect her from a tornado and helps her achieve her scientific dreams.
In one particular scene, a journalist photographed Kate looking out over the Oklahoma horizon. Tyler asked for a copy, and every woman in the audience squealed like a teenage girl.
The directors cut the final make-out scene to avoid cliché. While Mattson argues this “veer[s] a little too close to trivializing romance,” the old-fashioned approach in “Twisters” demonstrates it’s actually excessive on-screen sexualization that has been trivializing romance all along.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, “Twisters” uses zero f-words. Other crude language was kept to a minimum, a welcome relief from the typical stream of distractingly coarse language in modern films.
Gender ideology was nowhere to be found. Kate leads the film, and her gender is the least interesting thing about her. She’s a highly educated meteorologist — smart, determined, and brave enough to return to her hometown to chase storms and end the threat of tornadoes. The movie succeeded because it avoided dying on the hyper-feminist girl-boss hill, and instead allowed Kate to be kind, talented, and normal.
The weather theme of “Twisters” could have easily lent itself to a climate change angle, but there’s no hint of an agenda. That’s on purpose, according to Director Lee Isaac Chung.
“I just wanted to make sure that with the movie, we don’t ever feel like (it) is putting forward any message,” Chung explained in an interview with CNN. “I just don’t feel like films are meant to be message-oriented.”
There’s something I never thought I’d hear from Hollywood.
For all its apparent lack of message, my roommates and I agreed the tornado-chasing left us feeling strangely patriotic.
Perhaps that’s because the movie centers on the characters’ dedication to serving their community. An entire sequence is devoted to them distributing boxed meals after a tornado devastates a small town. Kate drives into the heart of a twister to deploy her scientific innovation, nearly sacrificing herself to save the town. The film’s simple spirit of selflessness was a breath of fresh air.
Hypersexualization, hyperpoliticization, and f-words don’t sell like they used to. Believe me, I know — my college’s local movie theater closed last week. Cowboy hats, community service, and storm-chasing might be the way forward.
I’ve lived through enough historic events this summer to last a lifetime. Spare me the politics. Give me “Twisters.”
