Non-Review Review: Jurassic Park

Jurassic Park is one of the “big” blockbusters which defined the nineties. It’s easily recognisable and has thoroughly entrenched itself deep in popular culture – along with Independence Day or Terminator 2. Also, like the two aforementioned films, it’s actually quite good. Of course, coming from director Stephen Spielberg, the man who invented blockbuster cinema with Jaws, can’t hurt. 

I call him "Rex"...

If you doubt the movie’s impact, take a look at the number of iconic moments that pop into your head right off the bat. There’s the glass of water vibrating as the T-Rex approaches, the lawyer on the toilet, the introductory flight over the island, the raptors in the kitchen… I could go on. Remarkable for a film frequently regarded as one of the movies to spearhead the heavy- (some would say over-) use of CGI in movies, the special effects have aged remarkably well. Although the union between animatronics and CGI isn’t seamless, it holds together. Perhaps its a sign of the director’s skill and restraint – something to be appreciated all the more with the glut of CGI-filled movies we see week-in, week-out these days. 

In fact, John himself – brought wonderfully to life by Richard Attenborough – seems almost like a director, trying to bring his audience something more “real” rather than something that can be dismissed as a mere illusion. In one key scene, he discusses his origins running a motorised flea circus, that required incredible suspension of disbelief from the children. However this illusion – and Ellie correctly points out that the attraction is also an illusion rather than being anything real – would be “something special”. It feels perhaps like Spielberg is talking through his characters, trying to explain his desire to offer something new and magical for everyone. 

However, as fantastice (and revolutionary) as the special effects were (and, really, they’d provide a lot of the movie’s appeal on their own), the true charm of Spielberg’s Jurassic Park – particularly compared to the glut of similarly-themed monster movies that followed – is that Jurassic Park never really lets go of the fact that it is essentially a B-movie. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a B-movie made to the highest standards, but it is still – at its core – a B-movie. It is a story of science gone wild, a cautionary tale of the consequences of man meddling with nature. Despite populating its cast with scientists and archeologists, it’s a movie that steadfastly protests that there are some boundaries man should not cross. “God creates dinosaurs,” Dr. Ian Malcolm summarises the movie for us, “God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs.” There’s a telling sequence early on when – having assembled a whole selection of dino-experts – the mind behind the parks is somewhat disappointed that the only one on his side is “the blood-sucking lawyer”. Not exactly a ringing endorsement. 

Doctor Malcolm has quite a flare for this sort of thing...

The fact that the movie treats the chaos theorist, Dr. Ian Malcolm, as an absolute stand-in for science betrays this core conservative streak. Most scientists rigourously pursue greater knowledge in the hopes that the universe can be rationally explained. However, the school of chaos theory offered in the film is more of a philosophical position: there are certain things that cannot be predicted, no matter how perfect your model. There is always a flaw in the system. 

Despite the on-coming tropical storm – which serves as a convenient plot device to isolate a small cast on an island that would otherwise be populated with a few hundred people – the inevitable faults in the park are, of course, all human. The circumstances which lead to the rampaging dinosaurs preying on the helpless by-standers are created by flaws in the men responsible for designing the attraction – Nedry’s greed and John’s ego chief amongst them. The movie seems to avoid blaming the dinosaurs for the carnage – they are, after all, only doing what nature intended (“they’re not monsters, they’re only animals,” one of the characters explains to a frightened child, “they just do what they do”). This movie could proudly stand alongside the monster movies of the fifties – the tales of atomic paranoia manifesting themselves in giant ants or blobs, so perhaps it is perfectly apt that this is a story of genetic experimentation gone wild. 

This ignores the fact that movie is fantastically made. Of course all its technical aspects – right down to the lead performances from cult actors as diverse as Sam Neill, Laura Dern and Jeff Goldblum, who lend the movie a much quirkier aspect than you’d normally see in a blockbuster – are incredibly impressive. Go on, hum the overture. I won’t blame you. 

Spielberg’s direction is perfect, demonstrating that there’s really not a director who can please a crowd quite as skilfully. He manages to draw real emotion from the film, even amidst all the giant flesh-eating dinosaurs – the humour is wonderful, never so much as to overwhelm the thrill or excitement. There’s even room for Spielberg to work in his favourite themes (the awkward relationship between father-figures and children (here reflected in the merry band of the archeologist and the two grandkids) without it feeling forced or awkward. 

Jurassic Park is easily one of the better blockbusters of the nineties (and also one of the better blockbusters ever produced). Sure, it’s hokey and ultimately quite light, but it’s also enjoyable and unashamed of its pulpy roots – while never really descending into camp. Now, if only the sequels were half as good.