For the next few weeks, we will be counting down our 25 favorite blockbusters! Read all of the entries here.

15. Twister (dir. Jan de Bont, 1996)

by Billy Russell, Staff Writer

I fucking love Twister. 

Something about the way everything comes together with Twister is like this delicate ballet, a balancing act of themes, and it’s impressive that it even works at all, especially as well as it does. Because Twister is dumb as hell. It’s dumb as a bag of tornadoes, but it works. And I think a big part of what makes it work is that it’s earnest. There’s nothing cynical about it. It just wants to entertain, and everyone involved is doing the best damned job they can. 

Bill Paxton, as Bill Harding, the film’s tornado-obsessed-but-retired-because-he’s-getting-married-and-settling-down-but-coming-back for-one-final-score hero, knocks it out of the park. Bill Paxton, I believe, was one of the finest actors of his generation, and I will go to my grave praising his work. He was capable of great, silly highs, he could over-the-top Nicolas Cage when he wanted. But he could also subtly convey an entire range of emotion. I’ve always felt that Billy Bob Thornton deserved to be nominated for the Academy Award for A Simple Plan, but I always felt that Paxton was robbed that year. His work was incredible. I think he brings that same kind of power to Twister, and that drive, that commitment, really shows. He could have half-assed it and gone on autopilot. But it wouldn’t have worked. The film would have slid into “cynical cash-grab” territory. 

A leading role is only as good as the co-star, and Helen Hunt brings it. As Jo Harding, Bill’s soon-to-be ex, she and Paxton play off of each other so well, their chemistry is palpable. You really do believe that they have this whole past together. She has this way of showing her jealousy of Bill and his new wife, this total pettiness, this complete and total anguish and hurt, disguised with a swashbuckling, cavalier attitude. Like, it’s fine, I’m just ramping up for the next thrill! 

The supporting cast has Jami Gertz, the fiance who’s way out of her element as she meets Bill’s old crew. The old crew has Philip Seymour Hoffman, back before everyone knew him as a brilliant actor and instead just steals the show as the comic relief; Cary Elwes is the smarmy, grinning villain, and he does a great job at looking like he deserves a smack; and Lois Smith plays Meg, Jo’s lovely aunt. Rounding out the cast of misfits, those underdogs, is Jeremy Davis, Alan Ruck and Sean Whalen who have a thankless job of doing as much as they can with limited screen time and dialogue. They basically have to make this team feel real, and they do a great job. 

This kind of cast is important when making a big, dumb movie driven by special effects, because what good are these effects if you don’t care what happens to the characters? Twister is famously the first movie ever released commercially for sale on DVD and damn if it isn’t a good choice. Hell, I think I probably one of the first pressings--it was one of those Warner Bros. discs in the cardboard sleeve with the stupid plastic snapper on the side. An ugly, ugly design, but if you’re going to show the potential in upgraded video and sound quality, Twister is a damn good showcase. 25 years later, I maintain that the CGI effects, used in conjunction with many practical, on-set effects like traditional fans, look great. The sound design creates characters out of the swirling vortex. They snarl and roar like beasts. When Bill and Jo believe that they have a personal connection and vendetta against the twisters, we begin to believe it. 

Many of the stunts and set-pieces strain believability. How many tornadoes are going to strike in such a short amount of time? Why do they only appear in areas that seem to photograph the best and lend to the most exciting possibilities? Jan De Bont, who directed Speed with similar skill and precision, and shot Die Hard as cinematographer, keeps the action moving so fast, we never have a chance to ponder the stupidity lying just beneath. The movie knows it’s dumb, but if it’s this entertaining, who cares? 

For all the flying cows and sharp debris capable of cutting someone’s head off, my favorite scene in the movie is when our cast of characters, those plucky weather-chasers, get a moment to bond. They sit down at Jo’s aunt’s house, who makes them a breakfast consisting of steak, eggs, mashed potatoes and gravy that is famous, and deserving of being in its own food group. The camera flies around the room, it swirls around the table, the food is lit beautifully and everyone laughs. There’s a warmth to it that feels genuine. I feel like the cast is the stand-in for us, the audience, caught up in a moment and allowed to soak it all in, to laugh and enjoy ourselves.