Jurassic Park

I not only remember seeing Jurassic Park in the theater at age nine, I remember seeing the first teaser trailer.  It didn’t show a single dinosaur - just a fossilized mosquito and a tantalizing promise: “For the first time, man and dinosaur shared the Earth.  It happened at a place called Jurassic Park.  This summer, director Steven Spielberg will take you there.”  The film hit cinemas in June, though my parents didn’t agree to take me to see it (for well-founded fears that it would be too scary) until the end of the summer. (Side note: Spielberg released Schindler’s List that November... not a bad year for him.)

When I finally did go, I was entranced.  Jurassic Park earned a place in special effects history for blowing the computer-generated doors wide open, but impressive visuals aren’t the film’s only achievement, nor are they its greatest.  Adapted from Michael Crichton’s spellbinding novel, Jurassic Park tapped into wonderment, the awe that swells up as you stand before a towering skeleton in a museum and dream.  Many talented filmmakers left fingerprints on the project, but Spielberg’s touch made it a masterpiece.  

Entrepreneur John Hammond (Sir Richard Attenborough) invites dinosaur experts Alan Grant (Sam Neill) and Ellie Sadler (Laura Dern), along with renowned mathematician Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum), to visit and hopefully endorse his latest business venture: Jurassic Park.  Constructed on an island off the coast of Costa Rica, Jurassic Park features living dinosaurs cloned from preserved DNA strands.  After a power failure allows the dinosaurs to escape their paddocks, what began as a wondrous vacation becomes a desperate fight for survival.

Until it was dethroned by Titanic in 1997, Jurassic Park was the highest grossing film of all time, and it set the stage for the effects-heavy blockbusters that would rule the 90s, though few were as memorable or as well-executed.  Jurassic Park began production with stop-motion effects; the technology for computer generating the dinosaurs was developed in house during production.  Younger moviegoers who have grown up with CGI might have a hard time grasping the magnitude of the achievement; audiences had never seen anything like it before. Some filmmakers became overly dependent on computer effects in later years (an unfortunate trend that continues to this day), but revisiting Jurassic Park, it’s refreshing to see the blend of groundbreaking and traditional effects used to bring dinosaurs to life.

Twenty years later, Jurassic Park’s CGI holds up remarkably well, partly because Spielberg and his effects team didn’t lean on it too heavily.  Take the spectacular T-Rex attack in the rain; what you see is a mix of computer effects and large-scale animatronics.  When Grant leans against the sick triceratops, you can sense the creature’s physical presence.  Dinosaurs’ pupils dilate and nostrils flare; close-ups on the practical effects help sell the digital ones.  The effects team pushed the limits of the new technology but had an admirable understanding of how to use it sparingly and effectively.

For its 20th anniversary re-release, Jurassic Park has been given the 3D treatment, a format I’m not a fan of, especially for a film shot in 2D and then converted to 3D during post production.  That said, Jurassic Park features the best post-conversion I’ve seen, with impressive depth and tasteful, gimmick-free implementation.  I can’t say the 3D added much to the viewing experience, but it didn’t detract as I feared it might.

Few Michael Crichton novels have translated well to the screen, partly because the science and factual details that pull readers into his stories rarely end up in the film script.  Jurassic Park spends just a few minutes addressing cloning and chaos theory, but those exchanges go a long way in selling the concept as semi-believable.  The movie begins with a frightening attack on a construction worker but then relaxes into scientific intrigue and character development before jumping back into action.  Few thrillers have Jurassic Park’s perfect pacing and emotional range.

Memorable performances, expert direction, an iconic score from John Williams, and some of the best visual effects on record have helped Jurassic Park age gracefully over the last twenty years.  Watching it again in a theater, I loved hearing children gasp as water rippled in the T-Rex’s muddy footprint and again as velociraptors hunted Lex and Tim in the kitchen (I couldn’t help but wonder if parents of younger children in the audience had the same concerns mid-movie as parents had in 1993).  Jurassic Park still has claws, but more importantly, it still has magic.  When the music swelled as Hammond welcomed his guests to Jurassic Park, I got chills all over again.

For the Parents:

MPAA: Rated PG-13 for intense science fiction terror

Jurassic Park received backlash from parents in 1993 because of how heavily it was marketed to children.  Young kiddos who walked in with their Jurassic Park happy meal toys walked out wide-eyed and traumatized.  Nothing about the film has changed for this re-release, so you could preview it at home before taking your kids.  If you don’t have time to re-watch it or just need a recap: a T-Rex picks a man up in his mouth and shakes him like a rag doll.  At one point, you see a bloody severed arm.  More concerning than the sparse onscreen violence, the dinosaurs themselves are often sharp-toothed and scary, with Spielberg consistently ratcheting up the suspense.  Kids will react differently based on what they’ve seen and what they’re ready for; I loved Jurassic Park at age nine, but I was well prepared, having read the junior novel until the pages fell out.

Where Have I Been?

For those who have regularly checked in over the last couple of years, you may have noticed me writing less and less. If you’ve checked in over the last five months, you may have noticed me not writing at all. So where have I been?

As it turns out, I’ve been writing a great deal, though the bulk of my attention has shifted to fiction. I’m putting more energy into my short stories and my novel (which I’m currently shopping around) than my reviews, so the content of this site has suffered. I apologize if you checked back during awards season, when new reviews should have been popping up constantly, to see that same “Skyfall” review from November. It was a fine film, and while I was pleased with my review, it was hardly good enough to hold down the fort for five months.

That said, I’m excited to announce that some big changes are on the horizon. DeeTravis.com will soon receive a makeover to more fully reflect what I’m up to with my writing. A more comprehensive author page with biographical information and updates on my fiction writing are in the works, though my movie reviews will still be a feature. I’m planning to launch the new site later this year.

I am also beginning a podcast with my good friend Luke Harris called, “Center Seat with Luke and Dee.” We’ll discuss movies, TV shows, video games, comics, and other aspects of pop culture that interest us, so stay tuned for more updates about “Center Seat.”

Most of all, thanks for reading; your support means the world to me.

Skyfall

Now this is how you do a Bond movie. Skyfall marks Daniel Craig’s third outing as Bond, and while the excellent Casino Royale (2006) brought Bond into the modern age, Skyfall examines the character’s relevance. In a post-9/11 world where national security operates so differently than it used to, is there still a place for James Bond? In answer to that question, we get one of the greatest Bond films ever made, folding in franchise staples alongside welcome additions. This year marks Bond’s 50th anniversary on screen, and I could not have hoped for a more fitting celebration of the character.

A thrilling chase sequence in the film’s opening minutes culminates in Bond’s apparent death (I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to say that he survives). After some time off, he reluctantly returns to work after a cyberterrorist attack rocks British Intelligence. Bond wonders if he still has what it takes as he sets out in search of the terrorist (who turns out to be Javier Bardem in one hell of a performance). 

Daniel Craig’s reinvention of Bond came as a breath of fresh air in 2006. A character that had by most accounts grown stale seemed a real person again, and Craig’s icy edge moved Bond closer to the character Ian Fleming originally wrote (Timothy Dalton made Bond tougher to some extent, but Craig perfected it). In Skyfall, Craig shows more vulnerability than before, making Bond a tortured soul, and the script delves deeper into Bond’s past and psychological makeup than any Bond film to date. Even the title, which I assumed was the codename for some evil plot involving a laser, holds deeper meaning. In many ways, Skyfall is Bond’s most mature outing.

After the dreary Quantum of Solace in 2008, some Bond fans wondered if Casino Royale had been a last hurrah; maybe the franchise really was finished. Skyfall addresses these concerns early on and never lets up, as characters wonder if agents like Bond are even needed in the field anymore. “Maybe we’re both played out,” Bond tells M (Judi Dench, who gets well-deserved amounts of screen time and dialogue). Bond’s quartermaster, Q (a franchise regular noticeably absent from Craig’s reboot until now) was traditionally an older inventor, but here he’s a young computer nerd (Ben Whishaw) who brags that he can do more damage in a few hours at his computer than Bond can do in a year in the field. In the world of digital espionage, why is Bond still necessary? “Occasionally,” Q acknowledges, “a trigger still needs to be pulled.”

The two most important aspects of a Bond picture (beyond Bond himself) are the villain and the girl. Casino Royale had the best Bond girl ever, and now we get the best villain. Javier Bardem has won an Oscar playing a creepy villain before (No Country for Old Men), but this performance is completely different. He has so much personality, and the energy between him and Craig is electric. Also, his schemes and motivations make sense, an important quality few Bond villains possess. The franchise hasn’t featured a truly memorable baddie since Sean Bean’s Alec Trevelyan in Goldeneye (1995), but even he pales next to Bardem’s quirky computer expert gone wrong.

Director Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition) has captured beautiful moments in artsy dramas, and it turns out that his talent also extends to action. Skyfall opens with a stunning chase sequence on foot, motorcycle, and train, and every action scene to follow features the same expert craftsmanship. It’s really hard to believe this is Mendes’ first action film (I’m guessing it won’t be his last), but like the best Bond pictures, it’s not all action. In between the excitement, we’re treated to the right mix of intrigue, sexy banter, and dry English humor.

Skyfall’s smart script takes a long, hard look at the history of James Bond, reinventing some of the franchise’s best traditions while leaving others behind. I love that this film tackles head-on the question of Bond’s relevance in the modern world. For fans, Skyfall serves as a delightful look back, and it left me convinced that Bond will (and should) stick around for the next 50 years.

For the Parents: 

MPAA: Rated PG-13 for intense violent sequences throughout, some sexuality, language and smoking 

True to James Bond tradition, Skyfall features a few mild sex scenes (more implied than shown) but no nudity. There’s a steady stream of intense action and violence, but again, nothing too graphic. Dr. No (the first Bond film) established these rules in 1962, and they haven’t changed much.

Frankenweenie

A macabre, stop-motion animated delight, Frankenweenie is about as Tim Burton as Tim Burton gets. Adapted from his 1984 live-action short of the same name, Frankenweenie tempers its dark subject matter with humor and sweetness, as most of Burton’s best films do. Beautifully animated, richly imagined, and thoroughly charming, here is Tim Burton’s best film in years.

Schoolboy Victor Frankenstein spends his free time making home movies and playing with his dog, Sparky. He also takes a special interest in science thanks to an enthusiastic and eccentric teacher. After Sparky runs into the street chasing a baseball and is hit by a car, Victor hatches a plan to resurrect his dog through a late-night science experiment.

Though Burton’s Alice in Wonderland was a major success at the box office, it didn’t resonate with me. Many Burton fans (myself included) complained that it wasn’t quirky and strange enough, which seemed impossible given the source material. Tim Burton is an animator at heart, and he’s at his best and most creative when animating an original story. Frankenweenie marks a grand return to form. The sets are quaint and haunting at once, and every character has a defined, memorable look. Victor’s fellow students are equal parts creepy and hilarious. Victor’s science teacher has an impossibly long face and evokes Vincent Price, one of Burton’s formative childhood icons.

Stop-motion animation has always amazed me. It’s a painstaking, meticulous process, and the end result is entirely unique. Computer generated images boast more fluidity and realism, but that cuts both ways, because stop-motion’s jerky movements cast everything in an otherworldly light. Visual effects legend Ray Harryhausen (Jason and the Argonauts (1968), The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (1958)) was a master of stop motion, and his effects hold up so well in part because they don’t look real, and they never did; they’re mysterious and charming. Burton’s three stop-motion animated features (The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), Corpse Bride (2005), and now Frankenweenie) make perfect use of the medium because the stories lean heavily on mystical creatures and fantasy worlds. Burton understands and exploits the medium’s strengths, and he enhances the aesthetic by filming in black and white, which has its own inherent magic.

Sparky comes to life through amazing puppetry. All of the characters do, but Sparky behaves uncannily like a real dog, which helps us care about him early on. Even in his resurrected, zombie form, the title character is an adorable dog. Other animals come into play later on, and again, each character (human and animal) behaves distinctly and memorably. The voice actors do fine work, but much of the emotion comes through quiet moments where the animators were the only actors.

Surprisingly, Frankenweenie is only the second feature film to be both written and directed by Tim Burton; the other is Edward Scissorhands (1990) (The Nightmare Before Christmas carries a strong Burton influence, but he handed the actual direction over to his friend and fellow animator Henry Selick, as Burton was preoccupied with Batman Returns at the time). Watching Frankenweenie, I was reminded that for all of his dark, gothic style, Tim Burton has a great sense of humor. I smiled through most of the movie and laughed out loud more than once. Burton mixes elements traditionally reserved for horror with the wonder and magic of children’s stories, something I’ve always loved about his movies. Fans of Burton’s unique style will not be disappointed here. Frankenweenie finds the right balance of charm, creepiness and fun, and the animation consistently delights.

For the Parents: 

MPAA: Rated PG for thematic elements, scary images and action

Frankenweenie gets a bit scary in its last act. A few animals undergo transformations, including a cat/bat hybrid that’s a little unsettling. One monster ends up impaled. Sparky’s death (before he resurrects as the title character) occurs tastefully offscreen, but the theme of death and loss might be a bit much for younger viewers. I think 10+ kids (or kids who enjoy slightly darker humor) will eat this up.

Looper

I’ve always been fascinated with time travel, a concept riddled with problems and paradoxes. Science fiction pieces which use time travel effectively generally establish rules of time travel and stick to them. The story in Looper involves time travel, but time travel isn’t the story, which is wonderfully constructed and filled with compelling characters. It lays out just enough to make sense but not so much that it gets bogged down in the cerebral.

In the year 2074, time travel exists but is illegal, used only by organized crime. Government tracking has made it nearly impossible to dispose of bodies, so the mob sends its living targets back in time 30 years with silver bars strapped to their backs. In 2044, hired assassins called loopers commit the murders, collect the silver, and dispose of the bodies. When the mob wishes to end a looper’s contract, they arrange for him to kill his own future self, freeing him to retire and live out the remainder of his life. When Joe (Joseph Gordon Levitt) accidentally allows his future self (Bruce Willis) to escape, his situation becomes more complex and dangerous by the minute.

I won’t disclose more of the story than that, because one of the joys of this film is its unpredictability. The plot takes numerous twists and turns, and even minutes from the end, I couldn’t guess what was coming. Writer/Director Rian Johnson has crafted something original and deft. While every last detail of the screenplay might not stand up under strict scrutiny, Looper isn’t one of those mind-benders that invites endless analysis, such as Inception (which after numerous viewings still proves ironclad). Time travel rarely makes perfect sense, so instead of diving in head first, Looper dips partway into complexity and then just takes you for a ride.

Joseph Gordon Levitt proves instantly likable yet again, helping us connect with Joe, a flawed antihero. He kills for money, can’t kick a drug habit, and spends too much time partying at a local club. Bruce Willis was a perfect choice for the older Joe, as he’s another actor with that innate something that makes you root for him right off. Joseph Gordon Levitt wears some effective prosthetics to make him look more like Bruce Willis, but their shared likability does the most to connect the two actors in our minds as the same man thirty years apart. Emily Blunt, Paul Dano, Noah Segan, Jeff Daniels, and child actor Pierce Gagnon also turn in fine performances.

Looper depicts the future with impressive forethought and attention to detail. Metropolitan areas look advanced but dirty. The most popular drug of choice is administered as eye drops. Old technology lays alongside new; for every hoverbike, there are a dozen traditional cars. Most older cars have gadgets rigged up to the gas tanks, presumably allowing them to run on alternative fuel, and 10% of the population has some variation of the TK Mutation (telekinesis), allowing them to move small objects through mind power. Overall, Looper achieves plausibility while dealing in time travel and low-level superpowers, an impressive feat.

Given the complexity and layers that unfold, the film’s resolution is admirably simple, almost poetic. Looper is sequel-proof, which puts another tally in its plus column. Hollywood has become increasingly dependent on guaranteed money-makers (anything with a number after its title), allowing for fewer inventive pictures that stand alone. There’s a sizable audience for smart thrillers, and I think Looper’s cleverness and innovation will be rewarded. Most movies choose between action and ideas, but then a movie like Looper comes along and makes having both look easy.

Fun side note:
The club where Joe passes his time is La Belle Aurore, also the name of the cafe where Casablanca’s Rick and Ilsa spend their last day as lovers before she disappears. “I remember every detail; the Germans wore gray, you wore blue.”

 

For the Parents: 

MPAA: Rated R for strong violence, language, some sexuality/nudity and drug content

Looper is violent, with plenty of blood and gore flying around amidst shootings. A young child is killed at one point. Language is strong. A few women appear topless, and the main character battles a drug habit. In short, this isn’t a movie to take the kids to.