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“No film about dinosaurs is ever really about dinosaurs. It is about us — our hubris, our technology, our belief that we can master forces beyond our comprehension. And in Jurassic World: Rebirth, for the first time in a long while, that idea returns to the forefront.”
The Jurassic franchise has long teetered between spectacle and meaning — sometimes leaning too heavily on the former, forgetting the awe that first defined it. With Jurassic World: Rebirth, director Gareth Edwards has attempted a cinematic course correction. And while the result may not be perfect, it is, perhaps for the first time since the original 1993 film, a worthy successor.
Gone are the raptor clickers and cloned girls jumping rooftops with dinos. Gone are the militarized Velociraptors and laughably convoluted biotech schemes. What returns is something simpler, more primal: a sense of scale, of tension, of reverence.
The Premise: When Dinosaurs Meet Mortality
Set years after the catastrophic events of Dominion, the film presents a quiet apocalypse — not of cities falling, but of the dinosaurs themselves slowly dying out due to changing climates. An elegant idea, if you think about it: the rebirth begins with extinction.
A pharmaceutical giant sends a team to a remote island to extract DNA from three of the world’s last remaining prehistoric giants. Their goal? A miraculous heart disease cure. Their real motive? Profit, naturally. And when humans meddle with nature again, nature, as Ian Malcolm once reminded us, finds a way.
What follows is not just an action film but a moral thriller. Scarlett Johansson plays Zora, a corporate ethicist turned reluctant hero. Mahershala Ali brings gravitas to Duncan, a former military man with his own quiet trauma. Jonathan Bailey is the soul of the film as Dr. Loomis — a paleogeneticist who believes he can save the dinosaurs, but perhaps not his own species.
Their chemistry isn’t about romance. It’s about survival, philosophy, and the question that echoes through every act: What do we owe the things we create?
Craft Over Chaos
Edwards directs with restraint. Where Colin Trevorrow gave us dinosaurs in Las Vegas, Rebirth gives us fog-choked jungles, the slow groan of a giant tail sweeping across the screen, and — crucially — silence. In one moment, a brachiosaur simply stares into the distance, its breath steaming. The camera lingers. You feel it.
Gone is the jittery editing of past entries. John Mathieson’s cinematography, shot on 35mm, gives the film a textured, analog feel. He doesn’t chase action; he composes it. Alexandre Desplat’s score is lush and somber, with echoes of John Williams but none of his bombast.
The film trusts you to be still. It wants you to listen.
Thematic Meat on the Bones
If Rebirth has a thematic heartbeat, it is this: Redemption through humility.
In this film, dinosaurs are not weapons, nor monsters. They are animals. Dying. Dignified. A haunting early scene shows a stegosaurus collapsing near a ravine, watched by its mate. The emotional core isn’t in the roar — it’s in the stillness that follows.
But Rebirth doesn’t sermonize. It merely suggests: We had our chance. And maybe we weren’t meant to be gods.
Where It Slips
Like the creatures it reveres, the film moves slowly — almost too slowly. The second act meanders, caught between existential dread and corporate espionage. The villain (played effectively by Rupert Friend) is more symbol than character: a biotech CEO with slick hair and no nuance. The moral questions are there, but they sometimes feel undercooked.
And as much as Bailey’s Loomis commands the screen, some supporting characters vanish into archetype territory. Johansson, for all her charisma, is underwritten — her character a cipher for ethical discomfort, but not much else.
Yet, it’s hard to fault a movie for being too thoughtful, especially in a franchise that once gave us Chris Pratt motorcycling alongside raptors.
Easter Eggs & Echoes
For fans of the original, Rebirth is rich with subtle callbacks:
- A broken pair of night-vision goggles, half-buried in the soil.
- A mosquito trapped in amber — this time crumbling under heat.
- A faint musical echo of the Jurassic Park theme during the final fade.
And yet, it never feels like fan service. It feels like a goodbye letter.
Final Thoughts
“The greatest trick dinosaurs ever played was convincing us they were the stars of these films. In truth, it’s always been about humans playing god — and the world that resists.”
Jurassic World: Rebirth may not be the most exciting film in the franchise, but it is easily the most introspective. In a summer of noise and reboots, it dares to be quiet. To reflect. To mourn. To suggest that maybe the end of the Jurassic era isn’t a failure — but a mercy.
The Daily Crumbs Verdict:
★★★ out of 4
It’s not a resurrection. It’s a requiem. And maybe that’s the point.
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