JURASSIC WORLD

It's time to look at dinosaurs again

Jurassic World Rebirth is the seventh release in a series that Steven Spielberg started with Jurassic Park back in 1993.

I’ve taken my youngest son to each of the movies since he was three. I’m still going with him. This time we were accompanied by his wife and toddler son (who wound up next door with Lilo & Stitch).

So it’s a family tradition. For the previous Jurassic World film, released in the summer of 2022, we hiked from the house we rented in Eastham to the Wellfleet Theater on Cape Cod (less than a mile away).

But back to the present. The good news is the absence of Chris Pratt, the dino-king of the previous three Jurassic efforts. I liked him in Parks & Recreation and gave him a pass in Guardians of the Galaxy, but his classic Jurassic pose was pure tedium.

This time we have Scarlett Johansson, which is a nice change. Jonathan Bailey also delivers as the scientist in the Sam Neill part.

Okay, we’re going to get into the plot a little here, so be warned, those of you who have yet to get to the metroplex for your dose of high-definition dinosaurs.

Rebirth repeats bits from the first film. So what else is new, you say? But actually doing specific recreations of famous scenes? Want to see another “raptors in the kitchen” scene again? Okay, it’s with a different dinosaur but kids are at risk again—and the kid has to hide again! I suddenly wondered—maybe this is supposed to be a parody?

Actually, I liked Rebirth at first. When the monstrous mosasaur struck and sank the family’s little sailboat, I was engaged. This is the 50^th anniversary of Jaws, after all, so why not?

The waters around the dreaded island, scene of previous cinematic failures and a monument to the futility of genetic engineering, are alive with prehistoric danger. They are, that is, until it’s time to leave, when our band of bedraggled survivors makes their escape on a much smaller boat. The sneaky aquatic dinosaurs that outmaneuvered a high-powered launch earlier in the film are nowhere to be seen this time. Instead, we’re looking at leaping dolphins while the John Williams Jurassic Park theme plays us out into the lobby.

But Rebirth isn’t all imitation. There’s the introduction of mutated creatures like the Bulbousnose-osaur. Look for it on the shelves at Target.

I get caught up in redirecting this Mesozoic mess of a movie. There’s a scene where our college girl goes to retrieve a boat left dockside for years. She has to do this alone (script dictates) even though her able-bodied boyfriend is standing nearby. The half-eaten carcass might have been a clue, but, on her way to the boat, she notices a slumbering T.rex. Does she fight hysterics and bolt? No, she deflates the raft with a bang, and we’re off to the races.

I would have kept old T-boy sleeping and let the family slip away on the raft. Downstream on the little stream, with our dozing dinosaur receding in the background, the family celebrates their escape with fist bumps and smiles. Only when they face front again, there would be a crotchety Spinosaurus to greet them. The ensuing row would wake up the T.rex who would come charging downriver to do battle with Spiney. Wait—didn’t they already do that in a previous picture?

I’m still looking for the excitement I felt when that oversized Stegosaurus charged the camera in the original King Kong. But that’s the problem with so many of these Jurassic efforts. Two-thirds the way through, one becomes desensitized by the number of close calls and startling moments. It’s all too much, as George Harrison tried to tell us in Yellow Submarine.

I think I’m ready for a dinosaur movie without dinosaurs—just rustling bushes, ominous bellows, and big eyes poking through the brush. Maybe a claw here and there. Okay, some distant screams, too.