Twisters review: It may all be gale-force nonsense, but it’s very watchable, writes BRIAN VINER
Twisters (12A, 177 min.)
Pronunciation: nonsense with gale force
I laughed out loud even more during Twisters, so over the top are the attempts to turn it back into some kind of monster movie.
The deadly tornadoes ripping through Oklahoma are clearly the equivalent of Godzilla, alien invaders, or the Great White Cat in Jaws. Especially since no one, not even top meteorologist Kate Cooper (Normal People’s Daisy Edgar-Jones), tries to explain them away as, perhaps, a result of climate change.
That said, Lee Isaac Chung’s film is impressive and energetic as Kate, who seeks redemption after a tragedy five years earlier by trying to show that tornadoes can actually be made smaller through scientific intervention, and who teams up with a charismatic, self-styled “tornado wrangler” named Tyler Owens (Glen Powell).
It may all be nonsense, but it’s a lot of fun to watch, with a nice comedic turn from Harry Hadden-Paton as a hapless English reporter assigned to write a story about the phenomenon of chasing tornadoes across the American plains.
I laughed out loud even more during Twisters, so callous are the attempts to turn it back into what amounts to a monster movie
Glen Powell and Daisy Edgar-Jones star in Twisters
The murderous tornadoes ripping through Oklahoma are clearly the equivalent of Godzilla or alien invaders or the Great White in Jaws, especially since no one, not even top meteorologist Kate Cooper (Normal People’s Daisy Edgar-Jones, pictured) tries to explain them away as, perhaps, a result of climate change.
Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones) hangs out with a charismatic, self-proclaimed “tornado wrangler” named Tyler Owens (Glen Powell, pictured)
It could also be plausible nonsense, if you are one of those people who, like me, believes that anyone who drops “superabsorbent polymers” into a sentence probably knows what they are talking about.
By the way, I saw Twisters last week at its European premiere in London, where it was introduced by Chung himself. ‘I hope (after seeing it) you Londoners will never complain about the weather again,’ he said.
I don’t think we can make that promise. Asking us to stop moaning about the weather is like asking us to promise never to drink tea again or praise Sir David Attenborough; we would be raping our national identity.
But I got his point. We don’t live in a country (yet) where you can end up in the next country without leaving your living room, so thank God for that.
Shades of Spinal Tap as Blur philosophers in middle age
There aren’t many documentaries about rock bands that can escape the long shadow of This Is Spinal Tap (1984), and let me put it this way: Blur: To The End (15, 104 min., HHHII) is no exception.
There are times, indeed, when the similarities are downright eerie, such as when drummer Dave Rowntree injured his knee during a tennis match in Surrey. The injury is as un-rock ‘n’ roll as the “freak garden accident” that killed former Spinal Tap drummer John “Stumpy” Pepys.
Blur fans will nonetheless adore this loving account of their 2023 comeback tour, which culminates with their first performance at Wembley Stadium and unashamedly presents the former Britpop titans as middle-aged philosopher-kings who cling to their every aphorism.
There aren’t many documentaries about rock bands that can escape the long shadow of This Is Spinal Tap (1984), and let’s put it this way: Blur: To The End (15, 104 min., pictured) is no exception.
Nevertheless, Blur fans will love this loving chronicle of their 2023 comeback tour, which culminates with their first Wembley Stadium performance and unashamedly presents the former Britpop titans as middle-aged philosopher kings, sticking to their every aphorism. Pictured: A still from the documentary
Damon Albarn and Alex James of Blur perform on stage at Wembley Stadium in London on July 8, 2023
Even for those of us who preferred the musicality of Oasis and Pulp, it’s nice to see them back together in their fifties. Frontman Damon Albarn is as effortlessly (and swearingly) charismatic as ever, and his old schoolmate Graham Coxon is as endearingly weird as ever, while bassist (and now cheesemaker) Alex James, ever mindful of his image, tries hard to make up for his considerable paunch with some good old-fashioned chain-smoking.
James is the one who makes a great analogy about touring again: it’s like riding a roller coaster. When you get off, you’re not sure if you want to get right back on and try it again, or if you never want to do it again.
On the whole, they seem to prefer the first group and, helpfully, seem to enjoy each other’s company, having apparently buried old enmities.