Jurassic World is the newest installment in a Jurassic Park franchise that had been extinct since 2001, and it is the latest attempt for films hoping to capitalize on older viewers’ nostalgia for Steven Spielberg’s creation and younger viewers’ demand for rehashed CGI spectacle. Sadly, World lacks much of what made Park great. And, for much of the film, I was rooting for the dinosaurs.
This edition has us back on the island visiting the theme park (built on the ruins of the 1993 original) that is bigger and more exciting than ever. More dinosaurs, more attractions, more tourists. That also means more opportunities for companies to make money, and investors and security firms all want a piece of what Jurassic World has to offer. Two guests, teen Zach and pre-teen Grey, are the nephews of a park executive (Bryce Dallas Howard), who hasn’t seen them in years and shows little interest in their visit. When the park’s newest genetic creation (the Indominus rex, which seems to be a mixed-breed concoction of all of the worst dinosaurs who ever existed), gets loose and the boys go missing, it’s up to an ex-Navy, Velociraptor trainer (Chris Pratt) to save the boys and protect the park’s future.
The primary problem with Jurassic World is that nearly every character is terrible. And though some of them come around by the end, they are too unlikable to care about from the get go. The two boys are annoying in their own ways—the young one filled with sugary precocity, the older with angsty ennui. Howard’s aunt, with her sharp bob and absurd outfit, is an awful person, completely disregarding her family. And the boys’ parents are just as awful for sending the kids to visit her in a foreign country. The owners of the park are stock bad guys (sigh...more evil businessmen), and the security expert (Vincent D’Onofrio) is a cartoonish remnant of the military moron from Avatar. As he watches escaped flying dinosaurs terrorize the park’s guests with a sly grin, he seemed to be begging to mutter, “I love the smell of Pterodactyls in the morning.”
Some of the film, though not really shot-for-shot, is nearly scene-for-scene a match of the first film. This may have been intended as homage, but instead it comes off as lazy. Four credited screenwriters may have something to do with it. What made Spielberg’s version memorable was its characters, its heart, and its honest debate on the intersection of morality and science. World has absolutely no depth in its characters, and thus, it has no real reason to care what happens to them. And by making the kids the centerpiece of much of the film and Pratt a rugged, supermale Dinosaur Whisperer (unlike the scientist-heroes in Park who receive equal-opportunity endangerment), there is never any suspense as to who will live or die amid the reptilian destruction. We also never get the legitimate examination of what all of this genetic engineering means that strengthened the stature of the original.
Spielberg’s Park also had something for all ages; World is quite noticeably intended for twelve-year-olds. Like the abysmal fourth installments of the Indiana Jones and Star Wars series, this movie follows suit in toning down the adult elements, and it follows suit by being worse for it.
Its over-reliance on special effects, as with any film, tends to make things less special. The film is very self-aware in its excess, serving as an analogy for the park itself. The over-the-top CGI, preposterous plotting, and unapologetic style over substance mirrors the park designers’ desire to meet customer demand. “They don’t want realistic,” the scientists say. They just want more entertainment. A joke is even made of one character’s “vintage” t-shirt from the original park. If this self-reflection were taken further, there could really be something smart here. But, alas, it plays as a gimmicky gag and weak satire.
Pratt, in spite of his inexplicable leather vest (seriously, he never once uses any of his myriad pockets!), does his best to keep the wreck afloat as the only likeable character in the film. He is handsome and charming enough, and I look forward to (maybe?) seeing him take on the Indiana Jones franchise in the near future.
Jurassic World will go on to make kajillions of dollars, and that is a tragic indicator of the state of films today. After all, it simply proves the cycle of ridiculousness the film’s theme park warns against. The ending leaves boundless possibilities for sequels, and from the other films in the series, we already know how cloning will end up. We can expect more of the same very soon. The only thing I’m looking forward to, however, is hoping the dinosaurs are more successful next time.
Grade: D+
This edition has us back on the island visiting the theme park (built on the ruins of the 1993 original) that is bigger and more exciting than ever. More dinosaurs, more attractions, more tourists. That also means more opportunities for companies to make money, and investors and security firms all want a piece of what Jurassic World has to offer. Two guests, teen Zach and pre-teen Grey, are the nephews of a park executive (Bryce Dallas Howard), who hasn’t seen them in years and shows little interest in their visit. When the park’s newest genetic creation (the Indominus rex, which seems to be a mixed-breed concoction of all of the worst dinosaurs who ever existed), gets loose and the boys go missing, it’s up to an ex-Navy, Velociraptor trainer (Chris Pratt) to save the boys and protect the park’s future.
The primary problem with Jurassic World is that nearly every character is terrible. And though some of them come around by the end, they are too unlikable to care about from the get go. The two boys are annoying in their own ways—the young one filled with sugary precocity, the older with angsty ennui. Howard’s aunt, with her sharp bob and absurd outfit, is an awful person, completely disregarding her family. And the boys’ parents are just as awful for sending the kids to visit her in a foreign country. The owners of the park are stock bad guys (sigh...more evil businessmen), and the security expert (Vincent D’Onofrio) is a cartoonish remnant of the military moron from Avatar. As he watches escaped flying dinosaurs terrorize the park’s guests with a sly grin, he seemed to be begging to mutter, “I love the smell of Pterodactyls in the morning.”
Some of the film, though not really shot-for-shot, is nearly scene-for-scene a match of the first film. This may have been intended as homage, but instead it comes off as lazy. Four credited screenwriters may have something to do with it. What made Spielberg’s version memorable was its characters, its heart, and its honest debate on the intersection of morality and science. World has absolutely no depth in its characters, and thus, it has no real reason to care what happens to them. And by making the kids the centerpiece of much of the film and Pratt a rugged, supermale Dinosaur Whisperer (unlike the scientist-heroes in Park who receive equal-opportunity endangerment), there is never any suspense as to who will live or die amid the reptilian destruction. We also never get the legitimate examination of what all of this genetic engineering means that strengthened the stature of the original.
Spielberg’s Park also had something for all ages; World is quite noticeably intended for twelve-year-olds. Like the abysmal fourth installments of the Indiana Jones and Star Wars series, this movie follows suit in toning down the adult elements, and it follows suit by being worse for it.
Its over-reliance on special effects, as with any film, tends to make things less special. The film is very self-aware in its excess, serving as an analogy for the park itself. The over-the-top CGI, preposterous plotting, and unapologetic style over substance mirrors the park designers’ desire to meet customer demand. “They don’t want realistic,” the scientists say. They just want more entertainment. A joke is even made of one character’s “vintage” t-shirt from the original park. If this self-reflection were taken further, there could really be something smart here. But, alas, it plays as a gimmicky gag and weak satire.
Pratt, in spite of his inexplicable leather vest (seriously, he never once uses any of his myriad pockets!), does his best to keep the wreck afloat as the only likeable character in the film. He is handsome and charming enough, and I look forward to (maybe?) seeing him take on the Indiana Jones franchise in the near future.
Jurassic World will go on to make kajillions of dollars, and that is a tragic indicator of the state of films today. After all, it simply proves the cycle of ridiculousness the film’s theme park warns against. The ending leaves boundless possibilities for sequels, and from the other films in the series, we already know how cloning will end up. We can expect more of the same very soon. The only thing I’m looking forward to, however, is hoping the dinosaurs are more successful next time.
Grade: D+