The Twister: Joplin Tornado documentary on Netflix

If you haven’t seen this documentary, please give it a try. It’s (obviously) about the Joplin tornado of 2011, which killed 158 (or 161*) people, injured hundreds more, destroyed thousands of buildings, and effectively leveled a mile-wide and seven-mile-long stretch of the city. The film follows a handful of people: two groups of then-19-somethings, a kid who graduated high school that day, a closeted queer kid who worked at a yogurt shop, the local meteorologist, and a tourist who had flown into town for, of all things, to meet with the local meteorologist to discuss covering tornados. The first 20-25 minutes move kind of slowly, as it builds tension and tries to get you invested in its characters. But once the tornado hits, at about 25 minutes in, the film is fucking harrowing. Like, I knew what was going to happen, but I was still glued to the edge of my screen, as if I was watching the 90th minute of the World Cup final and USA is up 1-0.

Mrs. H and I lived in Joplin from 1992-1999, so we had been gone for a decade by the time the tornado struck, but of course that town still did (and still does) have a place in our hearts. We knew people who had been affected by it. Places where we had eaten and shopped were destroyed. The place where we lived when we left was nowhere near the destruction, but on a late spring Sunday afternoon we could very well have been in parts of town where it struck, particularly on the city’s central-east side, where there are a lot of businesses and restaurants. Long story short, we could have been among the victims had we still lived there.

A few weeks after it struck, I went with a group to assist with the cleanup efforts (the documentary mentions that some 300,000 volunteers came into and out of the city in the months following). The devastation was indescribable, and so was the smell: rotting food, decaying and moldy wood, rotting pet carcasses. Oof. I overheard one local say at the time “it looks so much better now than it did the day of,” and I was thinking, how much worse could it have looked? In fact, while I was there helping out, I took note of something that came up in the documentary: even though I had lived in that town for years, at certain points I had no idea where I was because there were no landmarks – buildings were leveled, street signs were gone, etc. A character in the film says the same thing - they were trying to get home and they were lost because everything was gone and they had no idea where they were.

Mrs. H and I went to visit last summer, and the parts of town where the tornado hit are completely unlike what I remember. A major hospital is gone, roads on that side of town were rerouted this way and that, and almost all of the construction is brand new. We went to the memorial, at Cunningham Park (which was itself destroyed on that day, and then rebuilt), and the solemnity of the experience was overwhelming.

Anyway, give this film a chance if you’re in the mood for a devastating gut punch.

*158 people died directly from the tornado, another three (including a first responder who got struck by lightning that very afternoon) died of inderect causes. So the death toll is 158 or 161, depending on how you look at it.

I should also add a couple of criticisms. Of course, I’ve mentioned that the first 25 minutes moved rather slowly, but also, the film gave the recovery efforts only a passing mention, which I think is probably another documentary in and of itself. It didn’t really get much into the survivors’ PTSD, although you can tell that it’s there. And it completely failed to even mention St. John’s Hospital, which is where I think a couple dozen deaths occurred. I heard stories of hospital employees moving the patients away from their windows and into the halls, knowing that it was likely going to do no good and they were still going to die. It also left out one of the more harrowing sound bites to come from that day: a couple of storm chasers were outside of town watching it develop when it dawned on them that a densely-populated city of 50,000 people was right in its path. You can hear the despair and fear in their voices when one of them says, “It’s going into the city! It’s going into the city.”

ALSO, five years before the Joplin tornado, I myself survived (OK, so I was never in any danger at all) a tornado (or two, depending on how you look at it). On March 12, 2006, I was in Springfield, IL when two F2s mucked up the town. The first went literally right over my head, as I stood in the walk-in freezer at the pizza joint where I looked and it wreaked havoc on the parking lot of the shopping center where the building was. I was parked in the back, in a corner where I was protected on two sides by brick walls, so my car didn’t have a scratch. The second of the tornadoes petered out about a quarter mile from my house, where Mrs. H was at the time, on the opposite side of town. Miraculously, despite moving from one end of the other across a city of 130,000 people, there were no fatalities and the few injuries were minor - sprained ankles from running downstairs and whatnot. The damage was breathtaking, but it was child’s play compared to what I saw in Joplin a few years later.

I watched the documentary based on your recommendation. It was riveting. I thought it was well done. The tornado scenes were incredible. I wasn’t disappointed by the amount of time spent on the recovery. The film was more about individuals who’d been through the storm than it was about the town, itself.

I had a bad experience when I was a kid and have had tornado nightmares ever since. I normally avoid tornado movies, but this one was well worth the watch. Thanks for the recommendation.

You’re welcome, I glad you enjoyed (in a manner of speaking) the movie.