Before tornado movies threaten to become a cottage industry, just remember that in spite of both the bad ones and the forthcoming plans for more that are being assembled on the drawing boards as we speak, the only one that ever reached blockbuster status was the 1996 action epic Twister. In the realm of tornado movies, we now have Twisters. Erroneous publicity misleads us to consider it a sequel, which it isn’t. In fact, Twisters has nothing whatsoever to do with Twister, aside from the fact that it consists primarily of the same computer-generated special effects and it also takes place in Oklahoma, where the Richard Rodgers-Oscar Hammerstein corn is no longer high as an elephant’s eye, but on its way to almost total crop destruction thanks to not one but an army of lethal, never-ending new twisters that seem to arrive every ten minutes, and the wind comes sweeping down the plain with pulse-pounding noise and life-altering force.  

There is also something of an obstacle-riddled romance, but nothing as interesting as the one in Twister. (You can’t improve on Helen Hunt and the late Bill Paxton, and only a fool would try.) The new female centerpiece is Kate (Daisy Edgar-Jones), a lovely would-be scientist who grew up obsessed with weather, first shown in a prologue as a college student, placing some kind of gizmo inside the heart of a ferocious tornado in a dangerous project designed to record enough scientific data to give folks in the paths of devastating storms a better chance to prepare and run for their lives in advance of weather patterns. The research fails, killing three of her best friends who are blown away to Tornado Heaven, leaving Kate so depressed and disillusioned that she retires from studying the weather forever.

Five years later, she’s a meteorologist in a Manhattan research lab, safe and far away from the dangers of Oklahoma twisters. An old boyfriend named Jeb (Daryl McCarmack), one of the few survivors of the college tragedy five years earlier, appears suddenly and, for reasons known only by the screenwriter, talks Kate into returning to Oklahoma to track another deadly storm. Subplots about Jeb’s secret job working for a crook and a brief, aborted attempt to revive their stale romance are deleted fast between lightning flashes, ear-splitting wind tunnels and hail the size of billiard balls while Kate falls in with a new heartthrob named Tyler, played by drop dead Glen Powell, the fastest rising glamour-puss movie star since the young Robert Redford first appeared on the scene. The hot sparks between these two are leavened by their constant hostility. Kate and her crew aim to make a difference; Tyler is a storm tracker in it for excitement and adventure.  

References to the twister in The Wizard of Oz are annoying gimmicks inserted to inject some humor into the proceedings, including Tyler’s crew of storm chasers, with names like Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion. But clearly, the only true wizards in Twisters are not in Kansas anymore—or Oz. They’re the fearless computer geniuses who have conjured up the fantastic special effects in this movie and made them work—the tractors flying through deafening decibel levels of howling wind and rain, the towns razed and obliterated by airborne trucks, barns, farmhouses, trees, chickens and even a rodeo. The thunderous effects they create would keep the Weather Channel in business for years.

The sets, lighting design, and computer-generated special effects are superb, enhancing the viewer’s fascination with the subject matter. By comparison, the humans in Twisters are so unimportant and so undeveloped they seem like interlopers. The one-dimensional plot is tedious and the charm, good looks and style of the two leads are the only elements of the film that try but fail to invigorate. There don’t seem to be any limits to Glen Powell’s charisma. Even his smile is in Cinemascope and Technicolor, and he can act, too—although the benign script by Mark L. Smith is so mired in technology about pollen counts, anchor funnels, velocity measurements and silver oxide, and Lee Isaac Chung’s mediocre direction is so camouflaged in technical obscurity that they don’t give Mr. Powell much of an opportunity to show what he can do. The love affair part of the film is so wholesomely family-oriented that it’s about as sexy as an algebra book. There isn’t even one single kiss. 

Fortunately, the action sequences are nothing bland or dull, adding up to a whale of entertainment. I guess my scoreboard reads: Twisters, 10. People: 0. In the end, Kate prepares to return to New York, Tyler wants to know when she’ll come back, and there’s evidence that a lot of unfinished business is waiting to be solved. Twisters 2, anyone?

From the nasty fun corner of our big screen entertainment menu comes Longlegs, the feel-spooked hit of the summer. Here, writer-director Osgood Perkins has cooked up a horror film which both nods to the tropes and beloved elements of form in the B-movie genre while injecting it with intelligent twists, a keen visual and place-conscious eye, and variations on the form.

Oh, did we mention a truly new and newly unnerving demonic villain in the man called “Longlegs?” This conniving, Manson-esque serial killer (or killer by proxy), with a mop-haired, pasty-faced madman countenance and confessed obedience to “Mr. Downstairs,” is creepily embodied by Nicholas Cage. Cage, also the film’s producer, doesn’t have to dig very deep in his thespian and psychological playbook to conjure up the required frightful eccentricity for the job.

An added attraction in the film is the unexpectedly nuanced and magnetic performance by Maika Monroe, born and raised in Santa Barbara and an actress who first made her splash in another horror flick, It Follows, a decade ago. In Longlegs, she is less a classic imperiled damsel-ish “scream queen” than a complicated character with a past, decoding an ugly crime pattern involving slain families, girls with common birthdays and demonic dolls. She plays an FBI agent on the Longlegs case, with a “half-psychic” awareness and connections to a harrowing past only slowly revealed through the film. Monroe is excellent as the presumed voice of reason amidst the anarchic narrative and in the face of Cage’s manic manipulations. But reason starts to get real personal as the film careens into its surprise final act.

As one last touch of a winking easter egg in the film (they know that we know some devil-ish fun is at work here), the end credits break with tradition by scrolling downward — aka hellward. Meanwhile, Marc Bolan sings “Bang a Gong,” circling back to a quote from the song in the film’s intro: “you’re a dirty sweet/you’re my girl.”

Longlegs is a thinking person’s horror outing, validating the notion that such presumably “lowly” genres as action and horror can also be containers for cleverly crafted and engaging cinema art. It may scare the bejeezus out of some viewers or impress those of us seeking out sneak attack art-making on the summer movie circuit. Or both. 

See trailer here.

It’s usually at the end of the review that I talk about a film’s MPAA rating, but I’ll twist it up for “Twisters.” Or rather, for its 1996 predecessor “Twister” and its all-time terribly-worded rating justification. The film was rated PG-13 for “intense depiction of very bad weather.” Yes, the depiction was intense, and yes, the weather was very, very bad, but those twisters were so violent and destructive that “weather” seems like the wrong word to describe them. They may as well have used the term “extreme windiness.” The twisters are similarly violent and destructive in “Twisters,” which is much more sensibly rated PG-13 for “intense action and peril, some language and injury images.”

The new film stars Daisy Edgar-Jones as Kate and Glen Powell as Tyler, two storm chasers with different reasons for traveling Oklahoma looking for tornadoes. She’s trying to set up a 3-D mapping system that will help scientists understand how tornadoes form and thus save lives. She used to think she could rig up a chemical reaction that could actually stop a fully-formed tornado, but a field test in the film’s opening moments turns deadly, so she has to settle for the mapping system endorsed by her old friend Javi (Anthony Ramos). Tyler wants to shoot fireworks into a tornado to make a cool visual that gets him subscribers on Youtube and increase his celebrity so he can sell tacky merchandise. Kate is glad to have the moral high ground, or so she thinks.

As the film progresses, Tyler shows he has more layers than Kate initially thought. He’s a learned meteorologist and a big-hearted humanitarian. It also turns out that Kate may have jumped on the wrong bandwagon. She and Javi are noble, but their team’s sponsor isn’t. Kate and Tyler find that they like chasing the storms together, helping recovery efforts together, and just plain spending time together. Cute squabbling turns to cute flirting. Please tell me it’s not much of a spoiler to find out that there’s romantic chemistry between the smoldering cowboy and the beautiful scientist.

Then there are the twister sequences themselves. I used to be terrified of tornadoes, but the fear mostly dropped off when I hit my teens. This movie may rekindle some of that fear, especially after the opening sequence. The rest of the sequences are fine. I was never unconvinced that there was danger afoot. One thing I knew going in was that twisters, while they can form quickly, don’t lend themselves to jump scares, so I was wondering what the film would have to do to push my buttons that way. There are two effective jump scares that made me scream for half a second and then laugh for several full ones.

You can probably guess the kind of experience that “Twisters” provides. It’s a PG-13 disaster movie. The action scenes, while fraught with mortal danger, aren’t going to feature anyone getting ripped limb from limb. The comedic and romantic scenes are perfectly predictable as well, with Edger-Jones and Powell having the pleasing chemistry I knew they’d have. Of the characters that survive among Kate, Tyler, Javi, and Tyler’s colorful team, I wouldn’t mind seeing these characters in more movies. I’m sure the filmmakers can come up with more creative storm scenarios. For now, this was exactly the movie I expected it to be, but I had a reasonably good time watching very bad weather.

Grade: B-

“Twisters” is rated PG-13 for intense action and peril, some language and injury images. Its running time is 117 minutes.

Contact Bob Garver at rrg251@nyu.edu.