“A tornado rating, it’s not based on size or wind speed – it’s based on damage”. These are words spoken by self-proclaimed tornado wrangler Tyler Owens late in the second act of Twisters, the stand-alone follow up to 1996’s Twister. Those words cut to the heart of the film’s themes of overcoming trauma and facing your fears, two things I had to do while watching the film as for some unknown reason some guy decided to sit right next to me in the theater.
Above all Twisters is a film made for the theatrical experience and it’s a wonderful reminder that movies are in fact better on the big screen, in a theater with others. As Glen Powell’s sugar daddy and everyone’s favorite Xenu worshiper Tom Cruise would say, “big movie, big screen, loved it.” But there’s no reason this man had to sit in the seat right next to me. The theater wasn’t empty but there were plenty of empty seats he could have taken that were further away from me. The movie theater functions on urinal rules, everyone knows this except for this one man apparently.
It can never really be overstated how great it is to witness the spectacle of a film like Twisters at the cinema. The awe inspiring destructive beauty of the tornadoes, the heart beneath it all, the moments of humor and the glorious F5 of charisma that is Glen Powell are the things the multiplex was made for. What they are not made for however is to be seated next to an inconsiderate slob who purposefully sits next to random strangers when he doesn’t have to, spills popcorn everywhere, takes his shoes off and vaguely resembles someone from high school.
As I sat there, completely mesmerized by the classic blockbuster filmmaking that director Lee Isaac Chung, all that went through my mind was this guy, sitting next to me and all the empty seats he could have taken and why he seems determined to usurp the middle armrest from me. If he wanted two armrests he should have taken one of the dozens of lone seats available, he chose to sit next to me, he doesn’t get the armrest too. I could have sat right next to people as well but I didn’t because I’m a civilized person with manners, as were the other six people in the theater who were there by themselves, which by the way doesn’t make us lonely.
Now it’s not like I’m some weirdo hermit who never makes contact with other people but the whole reason I go to movies on Tuesday matinees is because not only is it cheaper which allows me to continue buying Starbucks and avocado toast but because there’s less people. If it was a full theater okay fine I understand but it wasn’t. This man went online to book his tickets, saw all the empty seats and consciously chose to buy the seat right next to me. If there’s another political assassination attempt, this guy is your number one suspect because he’s clearly not right in the head.
Sure I could have moved and part of me wanted to go to another seat as fast as one of the magnificent twisters that are beautiful realized by the films special effects but this was a seat in the very middle row and I am more stubborn than the rogue piece of popcorn that got caught in this guy’s hair and refused to fall. I bought my seat first, he should have moved.
After almost 2 hours of watching hot charismatic people chase giant vortexes of destruction out of the corner of my eye as I gave this man the death stare for his baffling life choices I realized something. As he accidentally spilled his drink while marking out over the 10 second Paul Scheer cameo, I realized that he wasn’t a man, he was an angel of darkness sent by the gods to punish my misdeeds.
Twisters: ★★☆☆☆
