‘Jurassic World’ Review: The Dangers of Unprotected Rex

If at first you don’t succeed, Triceratops again. And if after two forgettable sequels you still haven’t recaptured the wonder of the original Jurassic Park, then screw it, make another one, because why the hell not? 

Of course, “why the hell not” was the same rhetorical question the scientists of Jurassic Park asked themselves over 20 years ago, and we all know how that turned out. They cloned their dinosaurs, practically everyone died, and it was totally awesome to watch. So here they are again, cloning more dinosaurs, shoving them into an amusement park and hoping that this time nothing goes wrong in this newly rechristened Jurassic World.

Give credit where credit is due: director and co-writer Colin Trevorrow did what no other Jurassic Park filmmaker has ever done, and actually expanded on the ideas set forth in the first movie. Now the park is open and thousands of people regularly vacation on Isla Nublar, taking in the incredible exhibits and letting their kids ride on top of baby dinosaurs who look, believably, like they’d rather be doing anything else. John Hammond, played by the late Lord Richard Attenborough, has passed away and left his creations in the hands of a corporate tycoon named Masrani (Irrfan Khan), who strives to keep the sense of wonder alive for children all over the world, but struggles to keep the park’s massive operating costs under control.

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Enter Verizon Wireless (yes, really), who have sponsored the creation of an all-new dinosaur called The Indominus Rex. It’s the largest carnivorous dino at Jurassic World, and Masrani and his park operator Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) are eager to present it to the public. They just need to make sure that he’s safe in his cage, so they bring in professional velociraptor trainer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) – who is already busy preventing the government from using his raptors on special forces missions – to double check the defenses.

And of course, before you can say “Stop using Rex as a weapon,” the Indominus immediately escapes and kills everything in sight. Jurassic World begins to topple zone by zone, unleashing deadlier and deadlier dinosaurs who run amok and kill everyone in sight, stabbing them with their beaks, crunching their Jimmy Fallon-guided giant hamster balls and… damn, there’s just a whole lot of movie in here.

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Jurassic World has a lot of problems, but a lack of imagination isn’t one of them. Colin Trevorrow’s film bounds from one memorable set piece to another with the enthusiasm of a sugar-addled child, and the director is smart enough to keep them all separate and clearly defined. The storylines pile up and the characters fall apart, but at least you can always tell what’s going on, you always understand why, and you can easily marvel at the exciting way it has all been filmed.

Maybe it’s the eagerness to cram in as much as possible that really sabotages Jurassic World. When the movie isn’t trying to be Aliens (there’s not one but two scenes of marines marching confidently into battle with monsters, then getting creamed while their superior officers watch impotently via monitor), it’s trying to be Gremlins 2: The New Batch. The arch characters, obvious anti-corporate commentary and daffy new wrinkles in the mythology brought about by genetic manipulation certainly make Jurassic World feel like the most ambitious movie Joe Dante never made.

But there are so many characters, so many ideas and so many storylines that none of them have time to be fully explored. At least Colin Trevorrow’s film uses shorthand: Claire is an ice queen, Owen is a rugged man’s man, Kid #1 is a socially awkward genius and Kid #2 is a love-crazy teen. Rather than try to make them complex individuals, Trevorrow lets them be archetypes, because anything more sophisticated would probably only get in the way of the next gigantic bit of monster matinee nonsense.

Make no mistake, Jurassic World is nonsense. From the bizarre finale in which velociraptors have long conversations with each other (my kingdom to see the subtitles) to the hilarious helicopter stabbings to the almost impossibly old-fashioned subplot about the businesswoman who just needs to give in to a man (ugh), it’s a dopey spillage of summer stupidity. And if that turns any audience member off completely, I wouldn’t blame them.

But if you can accept that not every part of Jurassic World is worth celebrating, and that some of it is downright backward, you might still have a good time. Consider Trevorrow’s film as a spiritual successor to Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, complete with absolutely immature attitudes towards women and children, but rife with juvenile energy and exhilarating set pieces. It may not be in the same league as the original Jurassic Park, but it’s a damn fun time at the movies if you’re somehow able to keep your head straight and still shake it at the same time.

 


William Bibbiani is the editor of CraveOnline’s Film Channel and the host of The B-Movies Podcast. Follow him on Twitter at @WilliamBibbiani.

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