*After watching the movie for the second time, I made some slight edits to my review. You will find those parts to be penned in blue.



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Ladies and gentleman, I believe we have found our top pick for most groan-inducing, FML, five-cups-of-coffee-ain’t-enough movie of the year. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was a challenge to not pick up my phone and scroll through Facebook (something I never do at the movies). IMDb states this movie is two hours and nine minutes long? Surely that has to be a mistake. This movie felt like a five hours long documentary about white paint drying. Yes, I’m talking about Jurassic Park: Fallen Kingdom. Believe me, I’m shocked too!

As far as quality is concerned, The Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise has given us the full spectrum. From Spielberg’s cinematic masterpiece in 1993 to Spielberg’s ‘are you sure this is a Spielberg movie’ four years later in The Lost World to Joe Johnston’s averagely thrilling Jurassic Park III to the fun, throwaway popcorn flick, Jurassic World, that went on to break the bank and become the 5th highest grossing movie of all time, worldwide. But never has this franchise given us boring — tedious, aimless B O R I N G. Until now.

As I was sitting on my ass, watching the giant CGI dinosaurs roar and squeal and punch each other in the face, I kept asking myself what on earth is this movie about? And I don’t mean that in a mindf*cked kind of way, but in the sense that this movie has no point to it whatsoever, not for the first two hours at least. And when it finally recites its Planet of the Apes-esque point, right at the end, via Jeff Goldblum’s expository monologue, I wondered if everything I saw for the past couple of hours organically led me to that punch-line. No, it did not.

The director, J.A. Bayona and writers, Colin Trevorrow and Derek Connolly are nothing but names, as Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is quite obviously the byproduct of countless studio heads using the popular filmmaking technique, throwshitatwall. I dare not believe that the man who helmed The Impossible and A Monster Calls, two beautiful, emotionally resonant films, also had complete creative control over this snooze-fest. Then again, Ava DuVernay made A Wrinkle in Time, so what the hell do I know?

This movie is divided into three parts that seamlessly come together as one come together to form the shape of your earphones after it’s been in your pockets for too long.

Part 1: The part that’s in the first trailer.

Also known as ‘you haven’t seen dinosaurs get melted by lava, have you’?

This entire act is everything you hate about Michael Bay’s Transformers movies condensed into a 30-minute segment. After the major debacle that takes place in the previous movie, the Jurassic World theme park is no more and the dinosaurs and just chilling on Isla Nublar.

**INSERT PLOT MOVING MCGUFFIN VOLCANO**

The volcano on Isla Nublar which has been dormant for years is suddenly active, and when it erupts, all the dinosaurs will die. We’re told we’re pressed for time. Some people believe that nature should take its course, but animal activists, which includes Bryce Dallas Howard’s character won’t have it. So, she goes on a rescue mission, dragging along Star-Lord himself, Chris Pratt, accompanied by a bunch of soldiers who are hired by some rich dude. Y’know, the kind of soldiers that we’re told are good guys, but have that typical redneck look and spew misogynistic lines that make it all so obvious that they’re actually bad guys? Surprise surprise, that’s exactly what happens.

Throughout this rescue-not-rescue mission, there are dino on dino fights, bullets flying around, a volcano eruption, a Mission Impossible-styled ‘rescue hot girl from sinking car’ scene, and even a sequence where our protagonists run and jump on top of a moving car, which then flies off the jetty and lands on a moving boat. There isn’t even a slight attempt at building tension or suspense. In fact, there isn’t any sort of craftsmanship at all. It’s just a regurgitation of ridiculousness and a series of weightless action sequences.

Part 2: The part that’s in the second trailer.

Also known as ‘a five-year-old wrote this with rainbow coloured crayons’.

In the second act, there are some stuff about selling the rescued dinos for a profit. This is jumbled up with some stuff about using the profit to engineer some mutant dino for military purposes. But at the end of the day, all that is forgotten for more DINO VS DINO battle sequences and BLOOD (just so we know this movie means serious business). And sandwiched in between the existing hollow plotlines is a horrible twist involving a human child that screams “LOOK AT ME! I’M SO SMART” but plays out awkwardly and sticks out like a sore thumb. To be fair, I don’t think anyone would even notice as, by this point, the entire audience fast asleep (that is my assumption, at least).

Part 3: The part that tries to be Planet of the Apes.

Also known as ‘the past two hours was meaningless, but please watch the sequel, ya?’

Without spoiling anything, I will say that Planet of the Apes takes its time to build its characters and allows the conflict to slowly escalate, that when IT happens, it is a rousing moment, both emotionally draining and an intriguing tease for what’s about to come. The ending of Jurassic World feels like a different movie just thrown in there for the sake of being deeper than it is.

The original Jurassic Park was magical. In fact, it still is. Just like all the great adventure movies (i.e. Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings), it is a transportive experience, filled with wonder, joy and discovery. Spielberg helmed the film with restraint, just like he did Jaws (I know, he had no choice) and doesn’t show us his prized-possession until later in the movie. When you finally witness the T-Rex in all its majestic glory, your jaw hits the floor and remains on the floor until the end of the movie. It is also very, very suspenseful. You’re constantly on the edge of your seat, wondering if anything is lurking behind you.

And you go on that journey of discovery and thrills with interesting characters. Characters that have layers and exchange colourful dialogue. “Life uh…. finds a way,” “Our scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” Characters we care about.

There are no characters in Fallen Kingdom. Only flawless attractive people that either utter words to move the plot forward or mutter lines that don’t make sense. Somewhere at the end of the movie, Bryce Dallas Howard’s character Claire says, “We cannot let the dinosaurs die,” only to, 0.5 seconds later, not push the button which almost leads the dinos to their death. Why does this character do that? So that another character can push the button instead, in the name of “dramatic effect.” Of course, the scene, just like the rest of the movie, falls flat.

A case can be made that Fallen Kingdom isn’t complete and utter garbage. It really isn’t. There are scenes that are gorgeous, framed to perfection by Bayona and his frequent cinematographer Óscar Faura. There are plenty of moments throughout the film, particularly the opening set piece, that is poster worthy. This is the most visually stunning Jurassic movie since the original. Bayona also uses darkness and light in creative ways.

But a good looking movie doesn’t make it a good movie. Stunning imagery isn’t enough to save this from being a terribly dull experience. And this isn’t me just comparing Fallen Kingdom to Spielberg’s original. I realise that not many movies can be an all-time classic. In fact, not many movies are even trying to be. But even judging Fallen Kingdom in its own terms, I struggled to keep awake.

Fallen Kingdom isn’t awe-inspiring. J.A. Bayona (or the studio) seems to be under the impression that more is more. Everything is bigger and louder but none of it makes you feel like a kid again. I watched this movie in IMAX 2D and it did nothing for me. The screen is merely the tool. What this film lacks — passion, artistry and a coherent story — cannot be fixed with the size of a screen or an amazing sound system.

Michael Giacchino’s score here ranges from half decent to GLORIOUS — though, in typical Giacchino fashion, it isn’t iconic. John Williams’ classic theme is barely used — what’s up with that? When we do hear it, it’s subtle, in the background, remixed to sound sombre. I get it. Fallen Kingdom is trying to be The Last Jedi of the Jurassic franchise. Or the Casino Royale if you will.

The only problem is, it doesn’t actually feel different. Because no amount of sexy cinematography and music can do anything for a movie if the screenplay is below average at best. One note characters, boring dialogue and a hodgepodge of surface level events, that’s Fallen Kingdom in a nutshell. If you primarily go to the movies to have a visual feast, then you might find enjoyment in this. I go for the characters. And in this movie, there aren’t any. I don’t care about any of the pretty faces or if anyone of them is eaten alive by the T-Rex. And because of that, this movie isn’t different. It isn’t groundbreaking. It isn’t the Planet of the Apes movie it is trying to be. It’s just the same old shit with a darker tint. It’s a wannabe.

And if you’re wondering how Fallen Kingdom stacks up against its immediate predecessor Jurassic World. Well, both aren’t great. But at the very least, Jurassic World knows that it’s a nostalgia-reliant, cliche, summer blockbuster and on that front, it succeeds. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is a movie that tries to be deep and tries to be fun but fails miserably on both fronts.

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And if you’d like to discuss movies with me or simply tell me how wrong I am about Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, you can follow me on Twitter here: @dashtalksmovies