A Fun Night Out At The Movies? You Bet Jurassic It Was!

***EDITOR’S NOTE:  As I lazily transcribe and repurpose older posts from my former disused blog in a flailing effort to maintain relevance, I thank you all for sticking with me over these many years!  Oh, and yes, it is me again, editing and reediting my edits to reedit once more.  And now, here’s another bit of magic that I plunked down back in the olden days of 2015.  Ah yes, 2015.  Back when horseless carriages were seen all over and across and through the land.  Erik Estrada ruled the country with an iron fist and a cudgel made from the souls of those who wronged him.  In those days, people didn’t have rockets attached to their strollers and folks would microwave their popcorn instead of just eating the packets raw.  Yes, it was a wild time to pretend to be alive in.  And this is where our story begins.  Well, it really starts now.  No, I meant now now instead of then now.  Okay, without further ado whatsoever, it is starting…now!

Whilst during the course of human events in my married life, I have had the chance to experience many new and exciting things.  Watching my wife have three children in two pregnancies has opened my eyes wider than my sockets heretofore thought was possible.  I have seen firsthand how precious life is and how wonderful the subsequent multiple tax deductions are.  Of course, being the parents of three kids has been quite a drain as well.  Our bank account has shown this.  Our schedules have shown this.  Our arguments over how much time should be spent enjoying DVD sets of It’s Garry Shandling’s Show have shown this.  (I for one think there aren’t enough hours in the day to watch Shandling, my bride thinks that 24 hours in a day are more than sufficient.)

One of the new and exciting things my wife and I thought we’d try was to go out for something called “dinner and a movie”!  We had heard this was a popular form of “going out and doing something” that many “normal people” enjoy even though they “have children”.  My wife had eagerly brought this fresh concept up for my consideration.  I admittedly was hesitant due to my fear of new things.  For it has only been in the recent decades that have I accepted that Richard Dawson is not coming back to host Family Feud and that the McRib is not a regular menu item.  

Needless to say and even more needless to read, I was hesitating to procrastinate on delaying my decision.  Of course, my wife was patient with me, grabbing my ear and saying in her loving way, “Look buddy, we can do this the easy way or the other way.  What’ll it be, you chump?”  Bending over at an awkward angle with her fingernail digging into my cochlea, I helpfully winced while suggesting that she should look up what restaurant she’d like to visit.

After I stopped the bleeding, I stood my ground and said that I wanted to see a stupid mindless movie, preferably with explosions of some sort.  My bride lovingly waved me off and replied with a heartwarming, “Ok, fine, whatever.”  She looked up a place to eat that we had never been to, had a babysitter ready to go, and looked over what was currently playing at the local budget cinema.  She suggested that they had the latest offering in the Mission: Impossible franchise.  However, as they still hadn’t brought Martin Landau back to guest star, I declined.  Then the new Avengers movie was showing but as Dame Diana Rigg was not asked to guest star, I demurred at that choice immediately.  Displaying her ever-growing patience with a mask of ever-increasing rage and hostility, my wife put forward the notion that we see the latest movie to feature people running away from dinosaurs: Jurassic World.  Eureka!  A selection emerged and it only took a swift kick to my left shin by my loving spouse for me to make a choice.

I decided to read up on this newest installment in the franchise.  However, I was immediately derailed by exploring the nooks and crannies and crooks and grannies of YouTube, trying to find at least some recorded reactions to the freshly new Star Wars: The Box Office Awakens trailer.  But amazingly, the interwebnet was completely silent about this movie.  You’d think there would be some reaction from the web denizens, but I couldn’t find a single positive or negative word about it.  (For those of you playing along at home, please read the previous two sentences in a very obnoxiously sarcastic manner.  You’ll be glad you did!)

Even more sadlier, I also found out that entering Jurassic Park IV: Citizens on Patrol on the Google brings up nothing, which is disappointing that no one on the planet I currently call home thought to combine those great franchises.  However, upon 5^th thought, I realized that no matter how entertaining the idea of watching Steve Guttenberg dive into some good-natured hijinks with a triceratops might be, it would never come to fruition.  This is after all is said and done and then some, quite a foolish idea.  Like Universal and Warner Brothers could ever get their acts together to make the megamovie that I demand.

After a rather good dinner and wonderful slice of cheesecake that I shared with my radiant other half, we adjourned to the movie theater.  After the interminable ads and movie trivia, the digital film metaphorically unspooled before my eyes and here dear reader is where I swing into high and give you my scattershot and poorly arranged thoughts on this blockbuster.  And as always, you are welcome!

First, I would like to pose and posit a positive thought: Chris Pratt acquits himself rather well amidst all these shenanigans.  I was more impressed with him than with the CGI.  Apparently, Spielberg has said that if the part of Indiana Jones were ever recast, he could see Pratt in the role.  I know it is heresy to say this, given how much I love the Raiders franchise and having Harrison in it, but I would not be too angry if Chris Pratt was Dr. Henry Jones.  If he can fight dinosaurs believably, he should be able to fight Nazis without an issue.

Whew!  Glad to get the entire one good thing out of the way first.  But as long as I’m speaking of actors in this flick, I only recognized Pratt and Vincent D’Onofrio.  Oh, and there’s also that one Asian scientist who was in the first Jurassic Park whose name I didn’t learn back in 1993, so I won’t start memorizing it now.  The rest of cast is a sea of complete nobodies to me.  From that one kid to that older other kid to Opie’s daughter to the woman that played the mom of the two kids to the black guy that was Chris Pratt’s buddy, it was a veritable cast of “Hmmm…didn’t I see you serving me at the Caribou Coffee the other day?” 

Compare this limp cast list to the first movie where you had Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum, Richard Attenborough, Samuel L. Jackson, and Wayne “Newman” Knight from Seinfeld.  I even remembered the little girl was from Tremors for crying out loud!  Then look at the second movie, not the whole thing mind you, just skip around, but there you get Jeff “I Want A Paycheck” Goldblum, Richard Attenborough, Julianne Moore, Vince Vaughn, that one guy from The West Wing and Pete “Mr. Kobayashi” Postlethwaite.  And then the third Jurassic Park had Sam “I Want the Same Goldblum Paycheck” Neill, Laura Dern, William H. Macy, Tea “I’m NOT Sharon Stone, dammit!” Leoni, and John “Boy, I Got Killed Early in This” Diehl.  Now I’m sure some of these Jurassic World castaways are familiar to some out there who truly pay attention to the current pop culture trends, but as I don’t, they’re not.  Personally, I would have brought back Samuel L. Jackson with a robot arm but I digress.*

Am I supposed to believe that rational people think that using dinosaurs as weapons is a terrific idea?  Then again this is InGen, the corporation that thought bringing a T. Rex to San Diego was a thumbs-up notion.  After hearing Private Pyle repeat this idea several times, I just thought that he had somehow survived basic training and this was his final glory.  But no, D’Onofrio was serious about InGen company policy on this?!  “Yeah Bob?  I would like you to train this ankylosaurus to carry a platoon of men whilst firing the anti-aircraft guns on its back.  Can you get a test demonstration put together by the end of the month?  How about drawing up the action figure license agreements?  That’d be great, thanks.” 

Speaking of ridiculousosity, I can take the leap of faith that Chris Pratt could train raptors, but why would D’Onofrio think that these animals that he had never trained let alone spoken to would ever listen to him and not gleefully disembowel him?  This would be akin to my walking into a tiger cage, taking away the trainer’s chair and whip, and saying “Hey, I’ll take it from here Roy, you take five, all right?”  Is there a measurement device available to measure the size of Vincent’s cojones in doing this?

Apparently, the reason that this new Latiny-sounding crossbred dinosaur was brought about was because people were somehow getting bored with seeing real live dinosaurs?  I’ve got some evidence that this is a load of hooeyness; Jurassic World has made $1.6 billion.  That’s billion with a big old “B” and these were non-living dinosaurs.  I don’t think people would get tired of seeing actual live dinosaurs.  But as the plot’s park data says otherwise, I’ll go with whatever the hastily wedged together script says at that moment.  With that unbelievable wind filling our sailplot, InGen had developed another huge killing machine that people would love to see, which makes sense.  However, InGen also spliced in the ability for this thing to camouflage itself, which doesn’t make sense.  What’s the point of a major park attraction that customers can’t even see?  

Besides, in the 3^rd movie InGen had already cooked up a Spinosaurus that thoroughly kicked a T. Rex’s patootie, so why bother breeding a different super-duper-killer dino in the first place?  Especially since the only ones that saw the Spinosaurus and lived were the scant surviving members of Sam Neill’s party from 14 years ago.  C’mon InGen, just bring Spiny to the park and save yourself the time and research and money and development.

Ooooh, the kids in the movie are talking!  Hooray!  Their parents might get divorced?!  Oh, no!  Thanks for just throwing that in at a random moment so I’ll be suddenly inspired to supposedly start caring about these two scallywags, Mr. Joe Screenwriter, Esquire!  Oh look, the mop topped younger child might cry!  Let’s suddenly get invested in these characters without having to deal with the burdens of pesky and labor-intensive character and plot development!  Hey, is that a Jeep from the original Jurassic Park?!  Wow!  Now what was I saying?  Hey, is that a guy riding a motorcycle into battle alongside velociraptors?!  Wow!  Where am I again?

What was the age group for this movie?  I don’t mean to be stick in the mud type of parent here, rightfully passing judgment on those of you who decided this would be a great night out for the little ones, but I’ve got a question.  The rating is PG-13 which is amazing considering the toys that I saw on store shelves were for kids far younger than 13.  How are these kids getting in the theater, because the movie was seemingly a bit much for even that age group?  I mean sure the li’l tykes will adore seeing a massive and horrifying pterodactyl attack relentlessly tearing through the throng of helpless park attendees, but I must draw the line somewheres.

We finally come to the blessed end, where in order to stop the hybrid Interminablelous Rex, a velociraptor and a T. Rex decide to activate their wonder twin powers and go after the common enemy.  So just like a random Marvel comic from 1976, the heroes simply put aside their differences to team-up against the big bad and win.  The makers of the movie then stop just short of having the two victorious dinos give each other a fist pump and/or a “three raps on the back” man hug.  Truth be told, in my heart of hearts, I wanted the T. Rex to have Sam Elliott’s voice dubbed in saying “Thanks, pardner” as the dinos mount horses to go their separate ways into the sunset.

And with that dinosaur roar, the movie was done, with future sequels promised since this movie literally printed money at the box office throughout the planet.  My wife and I drove home to relieve the babysitter, who we were sure had started copywriting Jack Nicholson’s book verbatim from The Shining as she unsettlingly stared off into the middle distance, a crooked smirk on her face after dealing with our brood for over 6 hours.  I sat back as I directed our chariot home, thankful that I had indeed watched a big dumb summer blockbuster.  

Despite the flaws that my ever-increasing age had irritatingly noticed, the film had fulfilled my hopes and dreams by being dreadfully stupid, but oddly nostalgically entertaining.  It took me back to my wide 1993 eyes when I watched the first Jurassic Park movie in a Dolby-infected theater.  And yes, I might have had a tear when that original Jurassic Park T. Rex came lumbering onto the screen tonight.  Probably got something in my eye because the theater was dusty.  Yeah, that’s it.

But emotional attachments to pixilation aside, I knew in my heart of hearts there was only one way to improve upon this franchise.  Get me Bobcat Goldthwait’s number now!  Police Academy 8: Assignment Jurassic World cannot die in vain!

* I just wanted to give proper props to my lovely bride for providing that wonderful “Samuel L. Jackson has a bionic cyborg robot arm” idea.  If you think about it, it makes sense given that Jackson was the computer tech guy, so with InGen’s input I’m sure he could have come up with a RoboCop-like appendage so he could fight future dinosaurs.  (Thank you dear, for badgering me at length to give you credit for that one.)

***EDITOR’S POSTSCRIPT: Gosh, who could have predicted that such a promising retread would result in the confusing and unsatisfying Jurassic World trilogy that ultimately followed?  How hard is it to overthink movies where dinosaurs create havoc amongst humans?  Very hard apparently.  I truly believe that when Colin Trevorrow was faced with the impossible task of trying to follow The Last Jedi, some of the stink of the Lucasfilm story group rubbed off on him.  Granted, he managed to pull the ripcord on his emergency parachute to avoid slamming into the mountain of idiocy that was the resulting Episode IX.  This was a wise choice and I’ll always give him great credit for making the call to flee Star Wars posthaste.  However, his parachute landed him right in the middle of Isla Nublar, and Trevorrow was unable to cope with his survivor’s guilt.  The resulting trauma ensured that the damage was done, regardless of how much involvement from the beloved Jeff Goldblum. 

I guess what I’m saying is that I’m grasping at the straws of contrivance to believe that somehow Kathleen Kennedy’s bony fingers managed to strangle yet another franchise to death.  Thanks for nothing, Kathy!  Well, except for getting us this amazing cappuccino on your last coffee run!