Review: Twisters
Full of hot air, this one...
Is there some unwritten rule in Hollywood that mandates every successful film reaching the 20- or 30-year mark must endure a remake, reboot, or legacy sequel?
This, and other equally grim thoughts, crossed my mind as I struggled through Twisters. Yes, I remember the original Twister from... 1996, if I'm not mistaken. I think I liked it. It had an actual story with believable characters and a little nuance layered under the chaos of roaring tornadoes. Sure, it was a spectacle, but there was something solid underneath all that wind.
Twisters, however, is another story. But let’s get the positives out of the way first: it is a spectacle. If that was the only goal, mission accomplished, I guess. And the cast is solid: Daisy Edgar-Jones, Anthony Ramos, and Glen Powell, who has my enduring respect after starring in the amazing Top Gun: Maverick, an example of how to do a legacy sequel right.
You can find my review of Top Gun: Maverick on my Letterboxd profile.
Unfortunately, that’s about where my positives end. I have to part ways with the critics who praised this film (yes, I checked Rotten Tomatoes). In my humble opinion, Twisters was an embarrassing slog.
So yes, Twisters is a cinematic spectacle, a bona fide disaster film. It wears these labels proudly. But even a disaster film needs some kind of coherent story—or at least something resembling themes or depth. Beneath its gusty exterior, this movie is a cliche-ridden, paint-by-numbers mess that’s as forgettable as it is derivative.
The story, such as it is, revolves around Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones) and Javi (Anthony Ramos), storm chasers on a mission to research ways of, somehow, shutting down tornadoes to save lives. Naturally, things go south, and several team members—including Kate’s boyfriend—meet their untimely demise.
Five years later, Kate’s working at a meteorological research facility. Javi reappears and ropes her into testing new tornado-monitoring gear. Enter Tyler (Glen Powell) and his merry band of YouTubers and influencers, a team of loud, flashy storm chasers. Tyler is your classic cowboy stereotype, complete with country music, cowboy hats, and the “Yee-haws” to match. The two teams soon fall into a rivalry: researchers versus social media stars, nerds versus cool kids.
And the dialogue? It’s cringe-worthy, at least to this Norwegian. Maybe folks in Oklahoma talk like this, but it’s hard to imagine real people, anywhere, exchanging lines like these without irony. I kid you not—every other line feels like a parody of itself.
The rest of the film is a blur of cliches: yelling, revving engines, more country music (which I’ll admit, I can’t stand), cowboy hats galore, and wave upon wave of CGI tornadoes. There’s even a subplot about Javi trying to profit from destructive power of the tornadoes—because why not add a little more eye-roll-worthy drama? Oh, and add in some light animal cruelty in the form of rodeo and bull-wrangling for good measure, just to hammer in even more cliches.
Honestly, I spent half the movie resisting the urge to shout, “Please, Tyler, just stop!” every time he let out another over-the-top cowboy yell.
While the CGI tornadoes and action sequences are sometimes impressive, and the otherwise talented cast does their best with the meager script they were given, it doesn’t make up for the bland, cardboard characters, abysmal dialogue, and hollow, theme-free storytelling.
Twisters is truly the Speed 2 of legacy sequels. Next, please!