Editor's note: There are spoilers below.
Filmmaker Lee Isaac Chung spent his formative years in Arkansas. Chung, who lives a block or two away from the famous “Tornado Alley,” has personal experience with tornado storms. He knew how they shaped the psyches of people who grew up in that part of the Midwest, and he brought that experience and knowledge into his directing of “Twisters.”
As a result, his storm-chasing scenes set against sweeping vistas of the American prairies delighted and excited moviegoers. They were moved by the dramatic arc of the film's central character, Kate Cooper (played by Daisy Edgar-Jones), whose graduate research project on the fluid dynamics of tornadoes leads to the deaths of three friends and colleagues, including her. Finally, she seeks redemption and meaning. That's why “Twister,” which just finished its theatrical release, is the fourth-highest-grossing movie of the summer. (The film is now available to stream online.)
But the clock's orientation also sparked controversy because “Twister” makes no mention of climate change. At least seven reviews—Chicago Tribune, CNN, Grist, The Guardian, The New York Times, Salon, and Slate—had this absence in their headlines or opening paragraphs.
I was surprised too. On the 20th anniversary of The Day After Tomorrow, I watched trailers for upcoming summer attractions to understand possible ties to climate change, and I thought Twister was a good prospect for a climate sci-fi movie. How can you tell the story of the tornadoes of 2024 without talking about climate change?
Chung gave a three-part answer to my question in an interview with CNN and The New Yorker: (1) “Climate Change and the Science Behind Tornadoes [isn’t] Clear. (2) He did not want to “create[e] A sense that we are sending a message,” which may reduce the entire film to a vehicle for delivering a climate “message,” thereby limiting its box office success. Because (3) “I just feel like movies shouldn't be message-driven. “
Science, tornadoes and uncertainty
Researchers readily agree that the science linking climate and tornadoes, especially regarding their frequency and intensity, is uncertain. But that doesn’t mean climate science has nothing to say. There have been trends that are too long and too consistent to be explained by random changes: The geographic range of tornadoes is shifting south and east, and clusters (several tornadoes spinning in the same area over a short period of time) are occurring more frequently .
Read: Climate change and tornadoes: Is there a connection?
Chung himself acknowledged the findings in an interview with The New Yorker and during an appearance at the Hollywood Climate Summit. So he knew he could choose to include both science and uncertainty in “Twister.”
This could have been easily done.
Like the original 1996 film, “Twister” has scenes where the characters watch TV news to learn about weather forecasts and tornado warnings. It is not difficult to imagine the exchange between anchors and meteorologists on the topic of climate change:
Bob, we've been getting a lot of emails, text messages, and voicemails asking if climate change has anything to do with the violent tornadoes we're seeing.
Sharon, this is the question climate researchers and meteorologists are asking themselves. But right now, the science linking the intensity and frequency of tornadoes to climate (which we know we're changing) is uncertain. We're more confident in other trends we're observing—hutongs are moving south and east, and we're seeing more clusters—but we don't fully understand the reasons behind these changes. In short, Sharon, we think there are connections, but we can't fully explain them yet.
NPR's recent coverage of a surprising tornado in upstate New York contained lines very similar to these.
There have been at least 26 tornadoes in New York state so far this year, the most on record. That has state officials and residents wondering … what role human-caused climate change might play. As WSKG's Rebecca Redelmeyer reports, the science is complicated.
Three connected radio stations carry NPR throughout much of Oklahoma, and their schedules also include “All Things Thought,” a landmark feature that featured this story in the Aug. 9 edition. programme. In other words, real-life Oklahomans heard news reports about climate change and tornadoes. However, in the movie, one cannot use radio broadcasts to share radar images of tornado activity; For this, video clips from TV stations are needed.
But across the country, especially in the Midwest, a growing number of television stations are now owned by media companies with decidedly conservative leanings. A prime example is Sinclair Broadcast Group, which owns two larger television stations in Oklahoma. In 2023, Sinclair fired a reporter at a Lynchburg, Virginia, television station for not balancing his denials when talking about climate change.
In other media markets across the Midwest, meteorologists hired specifically to expand coverage of climate change have been put out of work by complaints and even threats from a small, rowdy audience.
Well, according to Zheng himself, he might be right. truly “reflect [Oklahoma] In his movie, the TV meteorologist may never talk about climate change during tornado season.
Still, Zheng had a choice. Instead of having to remove “climate change” from “Twisters” and just make quick mentions of its effects (“unprecedented,” “drought,” “wheat prices”), he could have trusted his artistic ability to make climate change a an organic phenomenon. After all, that's the goal of Good Energy's creative consultants: to make the inclusion of climate change the rule, rather than the exception, in film and television stories set in the present or the near-to-mid-term future.
“Climate change” as a trigger word?
Three conservatives' reaction to “Twister” celebrated Cheng's decision to exclude “climate change” from his film. The authors of the essays, which appeared in The Federalist Papers, The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, said the words were seen as a jarring intrusion, a message of alienation. These commentators believe that by not including liberal symbols in films like Inside Out and Twister, Hollywood is finally admitting that “woke” doesn't sell. Filmmakers have a new message for red states: “Our movies are for you.”
The responses seemed to provide further support for Chung's assertion that including “climate change” would detract from his realistic depiction of rural Oklahoma. But these conservative comments almost certainly exaggerate the truth.
A recent study found that most people underestimate how worried their fellow citizens are about climate change and overestimate the level of opposition they are likely to encounter when talking about it. Yes, one may encounter angry community members who bully meteorologists for talking about climate change, but they are in the minority.
“Tornado” message
This leaves us with Chung's final argument, which is that Hollywood movies do not, and should not, have a “message.” From a communication theory perspective, this is absurd. All movies have socio-cultural political science information. A film that appears to have no message actually delivers a message that affirms the status quo.
By not including the word “climate change,” “Twisters” sends a message about the politics and relative (im)importance of climate change in the United States. I think the entire movie sends a message about tornado life that reinforces American stereotypes that are inappropriate for the generational challenges we face in climate change. However, in order to figure this out, I need to share more of the plot.
While Twister is billed as a “standalone sequel,” it's better understood as a 2024 remake of 1996's Twister. The latter shares many of the same plot elements and storylines as the former; it even repeats a few lines of dialogue. Both films feature two teams of storm chasers: one serious and organized, the other chaotic and improvised. Both films feature Storm Whisperer and a Love Triangle. Both films begin with a traumatic event in the past that shapes the life of one of the protagonists.
In both movies, the storm chasers are at the center of the story, (1) taking shelter under a bridge, (2) having dinner with their families to recuperate and expound, (3) encountering a large tornado in the movie, (4) The “aha” moment allowed them to solve a problem with the equipment or strategy and (5) successfully apply the improved equipment/strategy when ultimately experiencing a tornado.
However, the end goals of the two stories differ. The Mayhem team in Twister hopes to collect data from inside tornadoes in order to create better warning systems. In contrast, Katie in “Twister” wants to disrupt the tornado so that it spins in its orbit.
To save a small town and her co-workers from imminent destruction, Katie implements their new and improved strategies to stop a tornado. First, she fired a rocket with a silver iodide payload into a strengthening tornado, triggering a downpour. Then, huddled in the team's anchored truck, she unpacked buckets filled with water-absorbent polymers that the tornado quickly swept away. The effect is almost immediate; the tornado spins apart.
So what is the message of “Twisters”?
In the 90 minutes leading up to its climax, “Twisters” delivers a social message about friendship, community, resilience and relationships. What I described as the respectable romance between Katie and Tyler (played by Glen Powell, who never waited this long to be mentioned in an article about Twister) is quite touching.
“Twister” also takes a swipe at disaster capitalism, with a subplot in which a real estate developer purchases an underinsured property for a fraction of its previous market value after it was devastated by a recent tornado. real estate.
There's a lot going on in this movie. That's why it's disappointing that its conclusion falls back on two tired tropes of American pop culture: technological optimism and the eccentric, independent, intrepid scientist/inventor. “Tornado” assumes that the tornado will eventually be tamed. The work is being done not by conservative PhDs working in companies or universities, but by wranglers tinkering in the field, tinkering with computer models, chemicals, equipment, vehicles and, ultimately, storms.
Jeva Lange writes in Heatmap that this message makes geoengineering “the real hero of ‘Twisters’.” But she readily admitted that the plan described was unfeasible, as she quoted one of the project's scientific advisers as saying. A lot of polymer had to be injected into the tornado, not just six or so barrels, which still took several minutes to work, not the 30 seconds or so shown in the movie. It's just a tornado. How do you move large amounts of polymer to simultaneously intercept multiple tornadoes across multiple counties and states? Even after successful interception, how many tons of polymer can be absorbed by soil and groundwater before the land becomes too toxic for agriculture?
Is it useful to learn how to stop a tornado? Almost certainly. So is there a viable practice that people can take to disrupt tornadoes on a regular basis? Almost certainly not.
Overall, Chung chooses not to mention the legitimate science of climate change in favor of telling a falsely techno-optimistic story about native tornado wranglers.
But in making this choice, Chung reveals just how deep the cultural divide over climate change has become. If it weren't for Cheng himself (that's still an open question), Hollywood seems to believe that the very word “climate change” will bring a heavy cost to the box office. It was painful enough to have those words removed from the script.
Someone should tell Hollywood that even in red states people believe climate change is real, while in most other countries it's not even an issue. Don't edit movies for Red America; edit them for the world and the future.
Please add “climate change” to the director's cut of “Twister” on Blu-ray.
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