Blog: All Things Film – Jurassic World (2015)

Blog: All Things Film – Jurassic World (2015)

“You’ll believe a woman in heels can outrun a T-Rex” should have been the film’s tagline, here. For, if you did not consider to be Spielberg’s 1993 smash hit to be anything more than a whimsical and intelligent thrill-fest, then wait till you watch Jurassic World – against this, Jurassic Park is feckin’ awesome.

Chris Pratt seems to be doing rather for someone who first came to my attention in Movie 43’s segment about a woman wanting to be shat on; he‘s voiced the lead in The Lego Movie; he *was* the lead in Guardians of the Galaxy and now he’s the lead once again in Jurassic World. If I were Tom Cruise, I’d be cacking myself and double-checking I haven’t been excised altogether from Mission Improbable: Rogue Nation. Pratt’s gone from chubby D-list misfit to ripped torso everyman. In this movie he’s been stripped of his personality altogether; as if his Starburst character, or whatever the fuck his name was in Guardians, has had a charisma-dectomy and dumped in to a two hour snorefest from the makers of Satisfaction Not Guaranteed.

And speaking of that 2012 film, we move on to director Colin Trevorrow who directed that aforementioned movie. A movie that concentrated, with some success, on avoiding the mechanics and sparkle of time travel and focused mainly on the humanistic side; the characters felt real and desperate and eager to please and be wanted. The characters in Jurassic World seem written to the point of cog-turning boredom. We have Pratt as I’ve managed, and Bryce Dallas Howard as the corporate nonentity who talks in spreadsheets and figures. Vincent D’Onofrio shows up with a blinking neon sign around his bloated waist that screams “I’m the bad guy, but you’ll have to wait seventy-five minutes for us to admit it” – and, basically, anyone brown-skinned is doomed.

There’s a vicious, manacled hybrid of a T-Rex and what seems to be the utility aspects of John McTiernan’s Predator kept contained in the vast chasm of a silo within the featured park. It is our flame-haired heroine’s pride and joy – that is, till it bursts out in one of cinema’s most tried-and-tested ways and threatens to knacker all the punters in sight. Add to the mix two young brothers whose life value is worth approximately one hundred times more than anyone else’s, and there’s your peril. We’ll ensure they’re the last ones on the pod ride so they can be truly at peril just to make sure.

At the very end of the film, the macha-Godzilla thing will face off against the T-Rex in a loud dino-a-dino stand off, and the water dinosaur will pop up just in time to save the day. I hate it when that happens. It’s tempting to say that you can hear creator Dr. Hammond turning in his grave as all this goes on, but he’ll have to spin a lot faster to drown out Attenborough’s spinning if the netherworld catches on that Spielberg has allowed this lightweight retread to happen.

 

Author: Andrew Mackay

 

To hear more on this review (and others like it) make sure you download the Filmsploitation podcast, part of the All Things Film network. 

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