My boyfriend and I went to see that movie about Chris Pratt and dinosaurs.
We got steamy shots of him fixing a motorcycle while wearing a dusty, sweat-soaked shirt. A very Tom of Finland look. But as tough-guy/raptor-tamer Owen, he was little more than a plot device.
Not just a plot device. He weas that one necessary character in every Jurassic Park movie that bodes doom, who thinks that maybe bringing dinos back to life is not such a good idea. Do they ever get listened to? Nah.
When things go wrong, as they are wont to do in these films, he becomes the obvious action hero, saving kids and kissing Bryce Dallas Howard, who appears to be the only woman on the island (the other one gets eaten by a mosasaur).
The film makes countless comparisons between itself and its original, and duly so. It’s the same story with more CGI, flatter characters, weaker script, higher camp, and surprisingly less gore. (Why? The kids?)
The whole story takes place over the course of one day, which makes the disaster-porn of the whole thing feel both conveniently quick and horribly, painfully predictable.
You’ve seen the trailer, so you know the premise. The park is open and making a killing. In the beginning, Claire (Howard) is selling corporate investment options to potential donors while we, the audience, explore Jurassic World alongside her young nephews.
If we may give a film about dinosaurs being ressurected any points for realism, Jurassic World is a place where dreams really do come true, complete with luxury hotel rooms, stegosaurus petting zoos, and “five dollar bottles of water,” as one person complains. Yep, sounds about right.
The attractions (boat rides with brontosauruses!) are truly awesome to imagine. (There have been claims that one really could exist, but these have been debunked. Sorry, Universal.)
When Claire explains that park designers are being pushed to create bigger and better attractions to generate interest, it rings true to those who have watched Disney World disappear beneath bigger rides and grander technology. Kids today!
Then the genetically-engineered dinosaur, the “Indominus Rex,” is introduced, and the rest of the story unfolds as planned from there.
So much work is put into making the setting believable that it’s jolting when everything goes to shit so quickly. Jolting, and a bit unbelievable.
Would they really not be prepared for this? It feels too easy. A perfectly orchestrated disaster.
I suspect that somewhere along the way, the filmmakers realized this.
To keep the movie from being too simple, comedy suddenly appears amid the weeping and gnashing of teeth, along with some out-of-place romance between Daddy Pratt and Howard. Didn’t see that coming.
Claire wears the most indesctuctible heels possible, and she wears them the entire movie, even when running from a T-Rex. We know this because she’s still, somehow, wearing them in the final scene. And they’re still white.
I was hoping that the storyline would be different and darker now, and a deeper discussion (beyond Jeff Goldblum’s poorly-worded babbles on chaos theory) would play out in the film. I was ready for a true exploration of the ethical implications of bringing something to life, á la Frankenstein, especially when that something is a species far superior to ours.
Instead, what is delivered is a fun, easy movie. Nothing more, nothing less. I was tempted to rawr at Chris, but a yawn would suffice.