The 1996 ‘Twister’ Was a Top-Tier Disaster Flick That Made Science Sexy

In the climatic scene of 1996’s Twister, Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton share a passionate embrace. The supporting cast—including Philip Seymour Hoffman, Alan Ruck, and Jeremy Davies—cheer wildly. The uplifting, orchestral score swells in triumph. This moment of jubilant celebration isn’t because anyone blew up the bad guys. Nor is it because they saved the world from certain destruction. No, the science-loving heroes of Twister are kissing, hugging, and jumping with joy because they’ve just obtained heaps of glorious, coveted data.

Directed by Jan de Bont, Twister (1996) was arguably the last good film written by celebrated science fiction author Michael Crichton, who co-wrote the Twister screenplay with his then-wife, Anne-Marie Martin. Like all of Crichton’s best work (which includes Jurassic Park and the original Westworld), Twister made science look cool, desirable, and sexy. There wasn’t some numbers-obsessed nerd annoying Hunt and Paxton with cheap jokes and clunky exposition—Hunt and Paxton were the numbers-obsessed nerds. And they were classically attractive, badass, movie protagonists. Over the course of the film, they fall (back) in love thanks to a shared, nerdy passion for meteorology.

Hunt’s character, Jo, is introduced in the film in her soon-to-be signature white tank top and tied-around-the-waist jacket. Jo casually drops f-bombs as she fiddles with a satellite, to the soft sounds of Tori Amos. Immediately, it’s clear that Jo is very cool. She’s the boss lady in charge of a merry band of scientists. The guys may goof around, but they clearly respect her intellect and authority.

Paxton’s character, Bill, is, by contrast, decidedly uncool when he shows up in his sports jacket and button-up shirt, looking to get Jo to sign their divorce papers. We learn that he’s recently left the rock-and-roll world of data collection in favor of becoming a local TV weatherman. What a sell-out! Not to worry, though—Bill is quickly seduced back to his old life when Jo reveals she has turned their shared dream into a reality.

That dream is a device dubbed “Dorothy,” which, if used successfully, will release hundreds of tiny sensors into the heart of a tornado funnel that will collect data that could revolutionize tornado warning systems. For Jo, this quest is personal: A tornado killed her father. Enticed by the thrill of the chase, with a little added motivation from Bill’s corporate-funded rival (played by Cary Elwes), Bill decides to join Jo for one last job.

The specifics of the science in Twister may not be accurate, but, like all good sci-fi, the made-up techno-babble is built atop truth. Any academic can relate to Jo’s predicament: She’s out of grant money! She needs to come through with some significant findings in order to get more funding. Yes, most actual data collection in the sciences is dull and repetitive. Yes, it’s mostly sun-deprived Ph.D candidates working long hours in a windowless lab. No, it’s usually not a ragtag group of fun-loving scoundrels defying death, led by two swoon-worthy Hollywood stars. But everything—from military operations to restaurant kitchens to newsrooms—is less sexy in real life than it seems in the movies. That’s what makes it a Hollywood fantasy, baby!

What made Twister a truly great sci-fi action flick is that—like Jurassic Park before it—it was a fantasy about the wondrous world of science. When our heroes finally obtain their precious data, the music swells as graphs and readings light up a number-reading software on a computer. And after Hunt and Paxton finally kiss, they playfully bicker over who will be stuck with the arduous process of analyzing their data. (“No, no, you’re doing the analysis,” Bill insists. “I’m running the lab!”) It’s hard to imagine a more romantic, glorified depiction of STEM.

Though I’ve yet to see the 2024 Twisters, which opens in theaters this weekend, I fear this sequel-slash-remake may lose sight of what made the first film so beloved. A few quips from Glen Powell in the trailer about Daisy Ridley’s “city girl” “fancy tech” suggests that this film—directed by Lee Isaac Chung, written by Mark L. Smith, with the story by Joseph Kosinski—may paint the academics as educated “elites,” rather than as noble heroes. If so, that’s a real shame. Twister made science sexy, and that’s the way it should be.