"Summer Turns Prehistoric, Pretty, and Pantheistic"
"Also, critics' responses to Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within, Legally Blonde, The Score, and other movies."
Jeffrey Overstreet | posted 7/01/2001 12:00AM
When I was a kid, one of the best things about summertime was the Big Adventure Movie, a flick that was so much fun it drew me back for two, sometimes three—okay, sometimes nine viewings. There was always at least one, usually more. I'm much older now, but I haven't seen one film this summer that a 12-year-old Jeffrey would have wanted to run back and see again. Until last night.
This year has been so disappointing that I almost talked myself out of attending the preview screening of Jurassic Park 3. But I am happy to say that the summer finally has an action movie that reminds me of those guilt-free, taut action-thrillers of my childhood. This one is made by people who really know what they are doing, people who don't let big budgets and box-office records compel them to create a bloated, over-the-top, self-important epic. This one just stomps in, does the job, turns around, and goes home in less than 90 minutes. There's nothing terribly unexpected in JP3, and it's profoundly unprofound. The CGI-osaur technology seems to have plateaued—(but how much more realistic can these creatures look?) Director Joe Johnston (The Rocketeer, Jumanji) focuses on delivering bone-jarring jolts similar to the best parts of the original film, and avoids the long, ponderous dialogue, exposition, and Darwinian sermons. Characters are developed just enough so we can root for them to succeed. The cast is an impressive list of talents, humbly giving themselves to the typical demands of brainless action. They give us a good anchor in the midst of special effects chaos. Sam Neil is especially impressive, bringing gravity and good humor that was missing from the previous sequel (which was overlong, not very scary, and full of failed jokes.) Also worth mentioning: a glowing but small performance by Laura Dern and a sure-footed and sympathetic turn by William H. Macy.
My friend and fellow critic Peter T. Chattaway pointed out something I had missed entirely: this installment has no villain, and yet it's still intense and involving. The action starts in the first minute, and never lets up. Johnston stages elaborate and exciting chases and one jaw-dropping fight between massive beasties. One in particular, the nasty Spinosaurus, is meaner than T. Rex and bigger even than Marlon Brando in The Score. Best of all, he finally gives pterodactyls, those beloved flying dinos, the action scene that dinosaur fans waited for in vain through the first two installments. Thankfully, this time the monsters don't wear out their welcome. Just as the script's idea-tank starts sputtering and you can hear the gears grinding to a halt, it's over. I was surprised to find myself grateful that Spielberg didn'tdirect this one—there are few squishy Hallmark-card moments, no big teary-eyed speeches, and no pulpit-pounding epilogue. Ride's over. Go back. Get in line again.
Is there anything meaningful to glean from such adventures? I'm sure somebody could come up with something, just like somebody could probably make a sermon illustration about a roller-coaster ride. But I can't fail to mention one moment that plucked a resonant chord—the sight of a cold-hearted, ravenous female velociraptor chasing down a human just because that human is carrying a raptor egg. I wonder if anybody anywhere will find it oddly touching that even a creature as brutal as this would care so much about the life of the unborn.
At this writing, no one else has posted a review. I'll share the usual "forum" next week.
July (Web-only) 2001, Vol. 45
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