Hollywood Utopia

66 Hollywood Utopia
pleasure of the narrative, which in turn induces an appreciation of the power, even
the therapeutic possibilities, of such natural phenomena.
Like many recent disaster movies, Twister contains an impressive array of
unmotivated skyscape-shots, which is rare in fiction films, compared to the more
character and narrative driven Hollywood evocation of nature. Geoff King
confidently asserts that there are two types of photography within such
nature/disaster films: the airy and exhilarating long shots from helicopters
supported by the use of an upbeat score and the more tightly framed action
sequences (as in Jan De Bont’s earlier action adventure Speed) - often using an
unsteady camera to create an impression of being right there and at one with
nature (King 2000: 23). While at first glance this is true of many ‘nature’ films, I
would suggest that the effect of such camera-work is more aesthetically reflective
and provocative than King appears to infer.
King’s extensive analysis of Twister positions the film within a conventional
American frontier tradition, which suggests that the dangers of such a natural
agency have to be tamed if the pastoral tradition is to be secured. King affirms that
‘the continued proximity, or possibility of the frontier remain necessary if the
pastoral is to maintain its ideal middle position’ (ibid.: 29). This can be illustrated
by the way a simple opposition is constructed between the fleet of sleek black
vehicles headed by the egotistical Miller who believes that his more powerful
technology will finally tame the chaos of tornadoes, as opposed to Harding and his
decrepit but individualistic entourage who treat the quest like a celebratory
western hunt. Harding and his loyal band of fellow explorers, however, remain true
to their scientific calling, accepting their role as servants and students rather than
controllers of nature. While initially unwilling to accept his true calling, symbolised
by his more ‘civilised’ romantic love for a ‘human fertility facilitator’, soon the
exotic lure of raw nature and the latent heroic agency of his ex-girlfriend draw him
back into the quest for knowledge and adventure.
Like a nurturing farmer, Harding particularly learns most directly from experience
and can read nature’s signs without the often faulty aid of complicated
technological devices. Simply by sniffing the earth and observing the sky, he can
intuitively predict much more about the impending twister than by using an array
of scientific instrumentation. Nevertheless the raison d’être of the quest, as already
cited, is to provide accurate scientific information of nature’s chaotic movements
so that humans can have greater warning systems to protect them from what Ulrich
Beck affirms is nature’s great risk. To acquire this information they must accept,
understand and even empathise with the power of nature at its most extreme.
Incidentally, Jean Baudrillard reads such human fascination with disaster - if only
as a simulacrum of a tornado - not as conscious worry over being usurped by the