As I sit watching a VHS of the movie "Twister," directed by Jan DeBont (Speed, Speed II: Cruise Control) and written by prolific science-fiction writer Michael Crichton (Westworld), I can't help but notice the obvious underlying thematic elements, like a miner buried alive, calling out for help, but his cries are lost in the quagmire and rotting soil about him. Crichton wrote the screenplay with his wife whom he divorced shortly after the film was released. This analysis may get to the bottom of the desertion of his spouse.
For anyone unaware of Crichton's work, his modus operandi can be summed up like this: scientists cheat the laws of science to discover a new, brilliant technology which backfires, kills some interns, and is stopped by the man or woman who swore the science was dangerous in chapter 2.
From the Wikipedia entry on Crichton: "His work is consistently cautionary in that his plots invariably portray scientific advancements going awry, often with worst-case scenarios. Seldom if ever does Crichton portray scientific achievement as going according to plan."
Twister isn't much different- Bill Paxton, having sworn off "tornado chasing" has to get Mad About You's Helen Hunt to sign divorce papers, but gets roped back into it to try and finish the tornado studying technology he invented, succeeding only after the "finger of God" annhilates half the midwest.
The film's screenplay should resonate with addicts of any kind. The clues are there if you know what to look for, if you know someone struggling with addiction, or someone that has recently overcome addiction.
Bill Paxton(the addict) arrives in Kansas or Oklahoma to finalize his divorce from Mad About You's Helen Hunt(the dealer). Helen Hunt is surrounds herself with her "colleagues," who she has convinced to come with her while she "chases tornados," which the audience discovers is a constantly life threatening venture, save for a few fleeting moments of bliss. Mad About You's Helen Hunt has successfully convinced these fellow "storm chasers" to join her along her ride through a drug-induced hell, always promising an ever illusive high- data on tornados- and once they have chased their first "tornado" they are hooked forever.
Before Mad About You's Helen Hunt can sign the divorce papers, the call goes out that a tornado is in the vicinity and she whips her gang into a furious frenzy to go catch it. Bill Paxton, perhaps a few months sober, reluctantly tags along in order to get the divorce paper signed so he can be on his way with his sponsor AKA his new fiance. This raises an important underlying question that will definitely be answered in the last moments of the film: Can we ever REALLY divorce ourselves from our addiction? Or do we merely stave it off for a few months until we find that sponsor to latch onto and help us through the hardest moments of withdrawal only to abandon them when our primal urge for getting stoned erupts throughout our body?
The gang of misfits constantly congratulates Bill Paxton for his return to their band of addicts and users. For the first fifteen minutes of the movie he rejects it and tells them that he's "not back," but we get a good glimpse into his mind, the soul of an addict, the desperation of a broken man who should not have come to the midwest- a land of bitter whirlwind destruction.
In this case, Bill Paxton's sponsor, his naive fiance, has been helping him through recovery and probably come along on this trip into Helen Hunt's midwest opium den to guide him out again. As soon as she leaves his side though, he is seduced back to the pipe by the sinister succubus.
Crichton uses this immediate flurry of action to show us how quickly a man can fall to the desire of that deceptively, delicious drug. Perhaps this is a projection, a prophecy of Crichton's own battle with addiction? Maybe he is calling out from an early grave about his addiction to lame paperback science fiction written at a fourth grade reading level? Either way, the author clearly has a history with addiction to be able to write this coherently about something so serious and debilitating. Brave author? or spineless hack? (And who better than Jan DeBont to guide us to the answer...)
Throughout the film, Bill Paxton becomes increasingly more and more obsessed with chasing tornados and catching them and studying them and discovering what makes them tick. He pushes himself harder and harder destroying just as much as the tornado does as well as numerous personal relationships. For instance, just after they get on the road, the addicts run into another gang attempting to study tornados in the same fashoin as Bill Paxton devised all those long years ago. Instead of acting in a rational manner, talking things through like the new Bill Paxton should have done, he attacks the Princess Bride's Cary Elwes with savage ferocity of a man who has just watched his stash get flushed down the toilet by a cop. As he is pulled away from the melee, he demands to know why Mad About You's Helen Hunt didn't tell him someone else has devised a simliar way to shoot up than he did. This is the final straw to break Bill Paxton's sobriety camel's back and he plunges back into full fledged addiction once again, only this time, he won't stop until he gets the ultimate high.
Then of course we begin to hear stories about Bill Paxton's addiction- the time he was naked and threatened the "tornado," the time he figured out he could think like a "tornado," and of course, we learn his nickname was "The Extreme." Could you think of anything more vague Michael Crichton? More sophomoric? Did your junkie friends call you that in the flophouse while you were tying off your upper arm for the thirteenth time that day? This sounds like it's hitting pretty close to home, Mikey.
Bill Paxton's fiance doesn't even try to stop him once he becomes the old addict he clearly once was, she rejects him as he destroys another interpersonal relationship(the third referenced in the movie). She is helpless and cowers amidst his superior knowledge and insane drive to obtain this peak of "tornado study."
At the end of the film, he acheives this ultimate high- this apex of tornado study- after killing many people, destroying relationships, blowing up cars, etc (Thanks for the subtlety, Jan DeBont). Of course at the end of this road, he sacrifices his fiance's car(wanton destruction of property), and risks his life and the life of his dealer (who is clearly more determined than he is) to get what he wants. And at the end of this long, destructive road, he ends up in the arms of his dealer, promising never to leave her again and to work with her forever, even having the audacity to attempt to usurp her control over the other members of the gang.
I think I've learned an important lesson from Michael Crichton, a lesson that transcends science fiction and the known universe, a lesson of such magnificent metaphorical tastes that I will always refer any addicts I know to it's important, deep views on the terror and fear that addiction can cause- the whirlwind of desire versus destruction that your life will lead to if you take the quick fix, the addicts course, that hell-bound Twister to the god-forsaken land of Oz- not to mix metaphors- where you can't control your will power and your need for the most human emotion we have- self destruction.
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