Imagine a creature whose sole purpose is weaponised destruction at an unfathomable level, created by unfettered capitalism and paid for by nefarious Russian interests. Are we talking about a summer action picture or are we talking about the 45th president of the United States? Who says it can’t be both?

JA Bayona’s Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is, in my estimation, anodyne dumb fun with heavy emphasis on the dumb. Unlike its predecessor (predecessaurus?), directed by Hollywood laughing stock Colin Trevorrow, the latest dino-romp doesn’t strive to be anything bordering on serious. It’s a movie made for afternoon viewing; an amusement, not the main event for your Saturday.

Yet Bayona, whose previous work includes The Orphanage and A Monster Calls, does give his prehistoric creatures a smidge of satirical bite. Pterodactyl-eyed viewers have already noted that during the televised Senate briefings, a BBC news crawl includes, “US president questions the existence of dinosaurs in the first place”, a little jape at the weird habit my country’s ruling party has of denying scientific reality to appease the mouth-breathing morons that make up their base.

There’s also a not very subtle line later in the film, when the young Hispanic “paleoveterinarian” played by Daniella Pineda gives some lip to the greedy, violent, kidnapping mercenary played by Ted Levine. “What a nasty woman,” he sighs. This greatest hit from the Trump-Clinton debates was met with groans by many in the crowd when I saw the film, but is further evidence that some kind of metaphor is mixed into the movie’s DNA.

It’s all leading to the big finish. Once everyone gets off the island and trucks to the Dark Shadows-esque Lockwood Manor, we see what the evil Rafe Spall and Toby Jones are planning. (Sorry, my British friends, you make for good screen villains, what can I say?) They’ve yanked dinosaurs off the deserted park island not to rescue them from extinction, but to auction them off to the highest bidder! Among the buyers, an “arms dealer from Slovenia”. Does the specificity of that small eastern European nation have any significance, or is it just coincidentally the First Lady’s birthplace?

Raising the stakes, we learn that returning Jurassic Park scientist Dr Henry Wu (BD Wong) has been hard at work on his most dangerous creation yet: the Indoraptor, a mix of the last film’s Indominous rex and a Velociraptor. It’s presented as just a prototype; a sociopathic experiment not quite ready to be let out of the cage just yet. The auctioneers claim it will soon be a highly effective weapon, easily directed by a shiny red light and a loud noise. Naturally, it immediately becomes uncontrollable.

But before the bidding and ultimate sale to “the gentlemen from Russia” can begin, the Indoraptor needs to make its formal debut. Here’s where Bayona goes all in. The chrome doors open and, lit from behind with an off-blue hue, the untamable beast, the agent of destruction, the planet’s existential crisis for the next four years (or until the next movie comes out) emerges in silhouette. The image is a reproduction of Donald John Trump’s entrance at the Republican National Convention in 2016.

“We’re gonna win, we’re gonna win so big,” belched the future president. “Skreeeeeeeik,” goes the Indoraptor.

Dinosaur enthusiasts were perturbed that Jurassic World did not update the earlier films’ look to include feathers on the dinosaur, which would be in line with more recent scientific understanding. Fallen Kingdom’s Indoraptor is the first to include feathers (hair?) on the dome, and while this could be considered a concession to paleontological punters, I think it’s clear that this is the final piece of the puzzle. A nod to the ridiculous mop that sits atop the head of the most powerful scaly beast, um, I mean, most powerful person on the planet.