REVIEW – “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom”: Dinos Rule Once More, in a Fruitless Franchise Time-Waster

by Joe Hammerschmidt

Three years ago, the keys to one of Steven Spielberg’s iconic crown jewels as a filmmaker was entrusted to a young up-and-comer who helped bring out the best in its lineage. Colin Trevorrow succeeded in the revival of a franchise considered all but extinct with his Jurassic World. What won audiences over was the promise of something very new, while staying ever so true to its ancestral predecessors, establishing a new park, new biological threats, and keeping classic characters in mind. Of course, keeping all this in the back of Spielberg’s mind, and that of replacement director Juan Antonio Bayona, one would imagine the sequel could protect that special combination of the old and new? Regrettably, in a careful attempt to offshoot the franchise into an unfamiliar, falsely terrifying direction, potentially posing an all-out war between humans and dinosaurs, the finished product may leave the pure taste of backwash instead of the bottle of carbonated soda we’d paid for with our big bucket of popcorn.

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom plays out as a sufficient middle third for a potential trilogy, improving on some elements, struggling on others. There’s a much more competent antagonist structure, yet a convincing plotline is sacrificed in favor. Of course, seeing any form of CGI or puppet-based dino is still appreciated, with much of the human cast left to putter around aimlessly outside of the few substantial action sequences which do experience their own issues with jumping out of first gear. And needless to say, any of the time that’s not spent on the islands of Isla Sorna or Isla Nublar, all that may leave one wondering why they bothered taking everyone off the original locations, to begin with. There’s so much to this sequel that goes off to its own unmarked tangent, it almost doesn’t feel any more like a Jurassic picture. Simultaneously, its bravery for going off the rails that it does, in bridging one satisfactory picture with the pivotal trilogy-capper, is still commendable, every bump in the road foreseen.

Picking up three years, past the aftermath of Jurassic World’s demise, with an all-too-brief recap setting the tone, former park manager Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard) is keeping herself busy as an advocate for dinos’ rights, ahead of a volcanic eruption at the former site on the fictitious Costa Rican island of Isla Nublar. Of course, she open-invites one of her more valued employees, former trainer Owen Grady (local boy Chris Pratt) along for the ride, albeit reluctantly on his end after an awkward history together, by which any romantic tension no longer feels organic.  The two are asked to proceed on an impromptu rescue mission spearheaded by Ben Lockwood (James Cromwell), a former creative partner of John Hammond’s, only one of the two naturally enthusiastic to the idea. In his state of poor health, he’s eager to construct a proper sanctuary for the refugees, yet his right-hand man, the snidely conniving Eli Gates (Rafe Spall, an actor whose face I still can’t ever peg down for familiarity’s sake) may have other plans, ones taking higher advantage of the replication technology his boss had been so proud of in his prime. This may be the only valuable connection Fallen Kingdom could proudly carry over from its past story elements, with head held high but fanservice tick boxes checked off almost excessively.

Carrying snarky veterinarian Zia (Daniella Pineda), anxiety-stricken systems analyst Franklin (Justice Smith), and their nose-to-grindstone military dispatch liaison Wheatley (Ted Levine), the team embark on this retrieval, certain cracks in the armor plating keeping the plot on a sensical path starting to chip away once we reach the action sequences that really did matter most in selling the film. One may find it obvious the film they’re watching is crumbling apart when the trailers rely too heavily on one key sequence instead of showing off the entire film for its full value. Mr. Bayona, last seen taking a dark spin on A Monster Calls, sees no difficulty in exposing the dark side of Jurassic, offering up a few decent moments lending toward an overwhelmingly gothic aspect, setting literally half the film around Lockwood’s estate and its underground holding cells where one may almost anticipate a pre-evolutionary Fight Club to brew. Yet he wastes the hard work put in by Trevorrow and writing partner Derek Connolly on their script, who are still determined to continue the thematics left behind in the closing minutes of JW1.

In trying to merge the continuing plotline, emphasized greatly by an opening prologue written specifically for empty-caloric nostalgia, with his own special quirks, Bayona nearly derails the momentum, grinding it to an absolute halt, and leaving any worthwhile nuggets devoid of their significant carryover impact. We do see Owen reuniting with star pupil Blue, a velociraptor who’d always taken a shine to the ex-Navy operative, and callbacks to the pair in better times do feel heartwarming. Owen attempting any sort of comic interaction? Unlike the previous installment, its place feels lost amidst the increased dark horror idea. Spall, a dedicated character actor, proves a more competent pseudo-antagonistic individual, versus Vincent D’Onofrio in JW1 who had far little to play around with. The dedicated comic relief can only pull their weight sufficiently when they don’t necessarily have to deliver zing-worthy one-liners; a shame, since some of them did have me cracking up at spots.

The human characters, when all combined together add up to so little against the fictitious CGI creatures they interact with. Pratt’s shtick fails to grow in terms of his own character development, Howard remains rather stationary, and this should go mentioned, hearing Toby Jones with an American accent portraying one of Mills’s financial associates invokes a slight Mickey Rooney sensibility that’s equal parts amusing and hard to take seriously. Of course, the young actress making her screen debut here, Isabella Sermon, playing Lockwood’s granddaughter, she really steals the show, proceeding accordingly with a great amount of care toward the monsters, even when a few frighten her, convincing screams not overlooked. The moments that matter, what meant the most to me, even as the third act began to drag (blame Bayona), were those moments of sheer terror, those scenes where I could say to myself, “we weren’t seeing just another Jurassic Park movie anymore, this was something very unique.” At least Bayona’s bombastic approach to going dark is where he excels at, against Trevorrow and Connolly’s desire to keep the trilogy’s backbone in play, the weaponization of dinos for private use. It’s just not as strongly felt as in the prior installment, but it’s likely something we should be watching for in the final third should there be an all-out war between nations to look out for.

And once again, that’s where I draw the line. The director’s unique idea clashing with the blueprints set aside in another person’s script. There’s plenty to take away from both that could lend to an enjoyable middle ground, but alas, we’re left with an absolute lack of focus and initiative, resources wasted on frilly distractions to keep the audience on their toes, and regrettably not using them to give the real stars of this franchise their opportunity for recognition. Many will likely say, they almost had it; but in a film of this magnitude, almost just isn’t enough. Yes, it’s funny; yes, it’s bone-chillingly frightening; and yes, it’s not a perfect marriage of multiple backdrops that cause one to question just what we’re supposed to focus on most.

It’s not entirely terrible, either, and it’s easy enough to commend Bayona, Connelly, Trevorrow, and I suppose even Mr. Spielberg for trying their hardest not to let their collective efforts fall into a cynical purgatory by which their product evolves quickly into the part of the franchise no one talks about. Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom barely misses that mark, embracing the messy and rolling with unexpected punches. So much of this sequel does not work, and no part of my soul could say with any sense of honesty it’d be worth watching more than once while it’s in theaters. What it can manage to do for the entire franchise, how it both entertains and leaves a chill on the back, while not posing any emotional gravitas, and set up a strong case for future vitality? That’s what will be worth coming back to every so often, so long as the troubling quarrels popping up throughout don’t weigh down the enjoyment. Turn off the criticism in your own head for two hours, and the disdain one may deal with due to insufficient Goldblum, and feel free to enjoy at your own discretion. And, I suppose, stay through the long credit scroll at your own risk, for a glorified end tag of little meaning apart from its purpose as a setup device. (C+)

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom is in most area theaters this weekend; rated PG-13 for intense sequences of science-fiction violence and peril; 128 minutes.