Jurassic World Rebirth
The seventh chapter in the JP franchise boasts its moments of cuticle-chewing panic but is beginning to show its age.
Just when you thought…
Courtesy of Universal Pictures.
As the first bona fide summer blockbuster celebrates its fiftieth anniversary, a pale imitation emerges from the depths of the multiplex. Not that Jurassic World Rebirth doesn’t deliver the thrills, it’s just that the template is beginning to show the scratches beneath its veneer. You cannot but witness the first third of the movie without thinking of Jaws (1975) or, worse, Jaws: The Revenge (1987). There are some pulse-accelerating set pieces, but the victims feel preordained, some moments inescapable. The look of the film and its saturated colours recall a garish 1950s’ spectacle, which may be the point, but it’s not a good look. Furthermore, the characters have never felt so secondary to the action, or so one-dimensional, each with their own one-sided agenda. Worse, few figures in recent screen history can have been cursed with such poor peripheral vision. Look behind you!
Following a rather promising prologue in which a recalcitrant sweet wrapper in a high-security laboratory wreaks untold mayhem, the film lurches forward to the ‘present day.’ Dinosaurs have now been roaming the earth for 32 years, but public interest in the creatures has waned, leading to a large hole in the pockets of the theme parks, zoos and museums that feed off them. Also, due to the deteriorating climate and outbreaks of disease (actually very scary real-world problems), our prehistoric companions have all but died out (again) save for in the oxygen-rich belt that is the earth’s equator. A far greater threat to our future would seem to be heart disease, although scientists have worked out that with a sample from a living dinosaur they could help to synthesise enough DNA to create a miracle cure. Corporate greed is represented by Rupert Friend’s oleaginous Martin Krebs, who needs Scarlett Johansson’s skillset to help him get close enough to the critters to secure a decent chunk of DNA. And Johansson’s Zora Bennett needs the help of palaeontologist Dr Henry Loomis (Jonathan Bailey) and fellow mercenary Duncan Kincaid (Mahershala Ali) – with plenty of zeroes in their pay cheques to brush aside any moral reservations.
The writer David Koepp (Jurassic Park, The Lost World: Jurassic Park) and Gareth Edwards (Monsters, Godzilla) have dished up a generic platter that owes as much to Alien as it does to Jaws. Edwards is no stranger to monstrous protagonists, and the film’s prehistoric setting of a tropical island full of genetically mutated nasties seems a step backwards. At every moment one expects to see King Kong emerging from the undergrowth, to join the off-kilter pterosaurs and our old favourite, the T-rex (whose predatory instincts seem to have become blunted by all these sequels). There seems to be only so many ways you can trap a gaggle of mercenaries and prerequisite innocent bystanders (this time a family rescued from the jaws of a man-eating sea creature). Actors of the calibre of Scarlett Johansson, Mahershala Ali and Jonathan Bailey bring some colour to their roles, although they’re given little opportunity to do anything other than look extremely afraid. Very extremely afraid.
JAMES CAMERON-WILSON
Cast: Scarlett Johansson, Mahershala Ali, Jonathan Bailey, Rupert Friend, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Ed Skrein, David Iacono, Luna Blaise, Audrina Miranda, Bechir Sylvain, Philippine Velge.
Dir Gareth Edwards, Pro Frank Marshall and Patrick Crowley, Ex Pro Steven Spielberg, Screenplay David Koepp, Ph John Mathieson, Pro Des James Clyne, Ed Jabez Olssen, Music Alexandre Desplat, Costumes Sammy Sheldon, Sound Tim Nielson and Gary Rydstrom, Dialect coach Rick Lipton.
Amblin Entertainment/The Kennedy/Marshall Company-Universal Pictures.
133 mins. USA. 2025. UK and US Rel: 2 July 2025. Cert. 12A.
