Fear and Self-Loathing on Isla Nublar: Thoughts on JURASSIC WORLD

"Why can't you just enjoy the film? Why do have to crap all over it?" 

That was one of the first (exasperated) things Elizabeth said to me after we left a screening of Colin Trevorrow's latest film and fourth entry in the Jurassic Park franchise. And it's something I've been thinking a lot about since she said it. I mean, like most things, the more knowledgeable you become about the art of filmmaking, the harder it becomes to just sit back and enjoy a movie. But why can I forgive some popcorn blockbusters and not others? I'm not really sure there's catch-all explanation for it, to be honest. 

She really enjoyed Jurassic World and I wasn't really sure how I felt about it. Really, I'm still waffling on how I feel about it. It's such a strange movie. On one scary dino claw, Jurassic World is essentially a film that hates itself. It's a film that is revolted by the fact that it even exists - a blockbuster reboot that finds the idea of blockbuster reboots offensive. It's full of this kind of meta-commentary and all of that stuff is pretty fascinating. But on the other scary dino claw, most of that gets overshadowed by the script being completely absent of nuanced, three dimensional characters and full of set pieces that often feel erratic and inexplicable. And then on the other other scary dino claw, there's the fact that Colin Trevorrow is clearly taking this stuff as unseriously as he possibly can and there's a certain amount of intrinsic fun in that. (I mean, at one point there's a dinosaur riding another dinosaur like some Power Ranger Megazord while fighting a third dinosaur.)

Besides all of the problems with the human characters - which I'll leave to someone else and only say that there are too many of them and all of their arcs are missing the entire middle bit making it basically impossible to be for or against any of them (there are only heroes and villains here because we're told "Look, these are the heroes and villains!") - I think what mostly ruins Jurassic World for me is the Indominus Rex. 

Basically when the film opens, Isla Nublar (the island from Jurassic Park) has been a tourist attraction/theme park for years. So many years, in fact, that dinosaurs have stopped being cool. As a result, the park's (sorry, World's) genetic engineers are forced to create a new hybrid that is bigger, scarier and more exciting than anything that has come before it. This, as you might expect, is a colossally terrible idea. And, of course, stuff goes horribly wrong, the creature gets loose, people die, stop me if you think that you've heard this one before. The film wants us to believe that this desire for more is bad. The problem is that Jurassic World just happens to be everything it's critiquing.

The Indominus Rex, a Frankensteinization of a T. Rex with a little bit of this and a little bit of that and a dash of plot twist, is definitely more. But it isn't just bigger, scarier and more menacing than its predecessors, it's more everything. Actually, it's not even more everything, it is everything. Any kind of ability or power it needs to continue to press forward is magically granted to it, a product of one of the endless creatures used to craft its genetic makeup (powers and abilities that are often used once then never mentioned or used again like the dino's perfect camouflage). It also happens to have a ridiculous level of intelligence that includes knowing that it has a tracking chip inside itself, knowing where and how deep inside it is and knowing what the chip is used for. 

There are no rules here. The Indominus Rex is the perfect killing machine that exists only as a gigantic McGuffin. It has no goals, it isn't trying to survive or escape anything, its sole purpose is to be an agent of chaos that does nothing but drive what little story there is forward. Yes, the I. Rex (brought to you by Apple) and Jurassic World are more everything than Jurassic Park. But all of that moreness rings hollow in comparison to the brilliant artistry of Spielberg's original. The Indominus Rex is the embodiment of the movie's themes, but it is also the embodiment of everything that's wrong with the movie.

But, like I said, Jurassic World is ridiculous. And to its credit, when it's not being stupid in bad way, it's pretty silly in a good way. I've already mentioned the amazing Megazord moment, but there's also the moment from trailers in which Chris Pratt (who plays the Cesar Millan of raptors) rides his motorcycle with a pack of raptors he's imprinted on and raised since they were born. We've also got soon-to-be classic lines like (these are from memory, I apologize if they're not spot on) "Look out, the raptors have a new alpha;" and "Depends on what kind of dinosaur they cooked up in that lab." Actually, so much of what Chris Pratt's character does is really incredibly silly (which is a relief because he doesn't get a chance to be his naturally charismatic self). But there's also creepy, sweaty, tight and beigey Vincent D'Onofrio. There are the criminally underused but consistently amazing Jake Johnson and Lauren Lapkus as two of the control room operators. There's the fact that Bryce Dallas Howard spends the entire film running (much of which is through rough terrain) in HIGH HEELS. And, of course, you've got great dino-on-dino action and some crunchie munchie human death scenes - one of which is so brutally cruel and undeserved that you can't help but laugh at how insane it is. 

And if Jurassic World was simply two hours of ridiculous fun, I would have liked it so much better. But it just isn't. It's trying to do something more and failing miserably. Apart from the Indominus Rex being totally without purpose other than moving people from point A to point B and all the boring, undeveloped characters, it feels like we're missing most of the story. A divorce plot is mentioned but nothing ever really comes of it; we see Bryce Dallas Howard's and Chris Pratt's characters be a part of a love story without any parts where they might bicker, bond and/or share aspects of who they are; Irffan Khan plays the billionaire owner of the park with absolutely zero character consistency - at one point he says money is no object and making people happy is what's important only to later say they can't kill the I. Rex because he has too much money invested in it. 

"Why can't you just enjoy the film? Why do have to crap all over it?" Elizabeth said to me when we left the theater. And I think that've I've finally come to the realization that whether you'll like Jurassic World or not depends on awe. For me, the saddest thing is how the movie presents the park itself. Too many people, too much commercialization, the lines are too long, you can't see the dinosaurs, Jurassic World the park sucks. For me, this is a film that told me over and over that I've lost my sense of awe, but that then proceeded to not give me anything really awe-inspiring. It argues that we're all too jaded and distracted, but then doesn't really give us any reason not to be (other than the mosasaurus, which was awesome). But some people will be inspired and awe-struck by this film. I'm sure millions already have been. And that's terrific! If it does strike you that way - if you see the final battle and the very last shot and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up then I think the film accomplished exactly what it set out to accomplish. 

But I was still chuckling about the one dinosaur riding the other dinosaur and wondering how B.D. Wong's character and his sinister, black turtleneck charmed their way into cooking up another dinosaur in that lab. There was a new alpha, alright. Just not the one we expected or deserved. Now that's meta.

Beautifully Subversive: Thoughts on Paul Feig's SPY

My first interaction with Spy, Paul Feig and Melissa McCarthy latest collaboration, was while waiting outside of the bathrooms at my local Cinemark. While doing my normal (totally not creepy) people watching, my eye was drawn to an enormous 3D standee depicting Jude Law, Jason Statham and Melissa McCarthy falling to the ground and firing a pistol while looking like someone's crazy aunt, complete with grey wig, enormous glasses and a pink t-shirt with a cat's face on it. I rolled my eyes. "Great," I thought, "another riff on her character in The Heat and Bridesmaids - a caricature given just enough emotional nuance by the end to make her seem like a real human being." (Okay, I don't really talk to myself like that, but just give me this one.) But after seeing the positivity pouring out from critics, I thought, "Well, I'd rather see this than Entourage." 

And to my surprise, not only does Spy subvert expectations and conventions of the spy genre, it also subverts expectations for Melissa McCarthy and the character she plays. Unlike the self-assured and super confident Officer Mullins and Megan Price, in the early goings of Spy, McCarthy's Susan Cooper is much more in step with her beloved character Sookie St. James from Gilmore Girls. I think Melissa McCarthy is one of the finest comedic actresses today and here Feig finally does exactly what I've been hoping someone would do with her. Finally, we get to see her start off as a humble and relatable figure who then progressively embraces her inner confidence and ability - becoming the super spy, international woman of mystery that she was always meant to be. 

Essentially, Susan Cooper is a meek, servile CIA analyst working in "the basement" as the voice in Bradley Fine's (Jude Law as Americanized James Bond) earpiece. When Fine is killed by crime lord Rayna Boyanov (Rose Byrne) whose father died at Fine's hand while trying to protect a stolen nuke, Boyanov informs the CIA that she knows the identities of all their top agents - including a bumbling Jason Statham who speaks only in hyperbole and a sleek and gorgeous Morena Baccarin - and intends to kill any of them who try to stop her from selling the nuke to the highest bigger. Racked with guilt about Fine's death, Susan volunteers to observe and report on Rayna in the field with the assistance of her fellow basement-dweller Nancy (the brilliant, scene-stealing Miranda Hart) which her boss (Allison Janney) reluctantly accepts. While initially filled with nervous excitement at the opportunity, Susan quickly discovers that her superiors do not see her as the skilled undercover agent she sees herself as, but as frumpy and incompetent, someone to be demeaned into obscurity and invisibility by humiliating wigs and spy gadgets disguised as fungal spray and medicated hemorrhoid wipes. 

Likewise, Spy's promotional campaign would have you believe that McCarthy spends the movies runtime playing into this image of a foolish, inept clown in over her head - it had me convinced. But, impressively, Feig's script shrewdly reveals Susan Cooper as an incredibly intelligent and capable spy who's clever, quick on her feet and physically artful in a way that lets McCarthy show off her unmatched physical comedy in a way that doesn't feel exploitative of her size a la something like Paul Blart: Mall Cop. She isn't polished or aloof in any stretch of the imagination, but her sheer aptitude and fervor make her one of the most charming and irresistible spies in quite some time - especially in comparison to Staham's hilariously ineffectual Rick Ford and Peter Serafinowicz's absurd and lecherous Italian agent. Susan isn't immune to criticism and jokes, but the indignities she suffers are parceled out smartly and are matched by jabs thrown out at the rest of the cast who are all completely game and strive to match the comedic prowess and willingness to look ludicrous of their co-star. 

Spy has ideas that suggest at a larger satirization of the genre and, more importantly, the stereotypes inherent in it - especially when it comes to gender and appearance - but really, this is a movie about having fun. One of the things I like best about Paul Feig as a director is that once he gets all of these talented people together, he kind of just steps back and lets them go. As such, Spy never lets its satirization get in the way of what it really wants to do. There's one terrific, intimate fight scene in a kitchen, but apart from that the action is pretty pat. This is a film that's all about the comedy. And, as a result, it's probably the funniest mainstream film so far this year. It's not easy for a film like this to be hilarious on such a large scale while also being admirably progressive. But Spy manages to pull it off. 

Don't be fooled by that gigantic standee you see while you're waiting outside of the bathrooms at your local Cinemark. It's only a disguise. And like Susan Cooper, what's underneath that disguise is hilarious, beautiful and endearing. 

8 out of 10