“Jurassic World” is Actually a Beautiful Allegory For Itself
Jurassic World, the latest entry into the classic Jurassic Park film series, currently hovers around a 70% approval rating on RottenTomatoes, with reviewers calling its characters “paper thin,” it’s story “re-used dinosaurs and re-used plot,” and “afraid of anything new or original.” That seems miles away from Spielberg’s classic Jurassic Park, with its 93% RottenTomatoes-rating, and a perennial runner-up for the American Film Institute’s top 100 films of the past 100 years list.
But I want to put forth a personal theory that I couldn’t shake while watching Jurassic World last week: the film isn’t shallow, but actually a brilliant piece of commentary on the state of big-budget cinema in America, and the legacy of action cinema.
Be warned, I am about to spoil the entire film in the interests of academia.
Welcome to Jurassic World
The central storyline of Jurassic World should seem familiar to anyone who saw the original Jurassic Park in 1993: a pair of siblings, Zach and Gray, visit a family member, their Aunt Claire, who supervises an island with various cloned dinosaur attractions, before the potent combination of human hubris and dramatic irony causes plans to go awry.
As the monorail first pulls the young boys past the “Jurassic World” gates, and someone comments that the gates have been reclaimed from the original Jurassic Park, it occurred to me that as characters discussed “Jurassic World” and “Jurassic Park,” their commentary may not just refer to the attractions themselves, but could also be interpreted as meta-commentary on the eponymously-titled films.
The gates themselves are an obvious illustration of this: the new entryway for Jurassic World has been reclaimed from the infamous Jurassic Park — which is to say that this new, modern re-imagining of a dinosaur attraction uses the same entryway as the original attraction. Of course, the same thing could be said for the film Jurassic World itself: it reclaims the Jurassic Park branding as a way to entice audiences into the franchise’s latest flick. It has reclaimed its own entryway.
The theme parks themselves provide additional subtext for the differences between the World and Park films. In the original film, Isla Nublar’s attractions are simple: an educational visitor center, followed by a zoo-like safari past the paddocks of the recreated dinosaurs. The updated Nublar seen in World is anything but simple. A gargantuan aquatic arena treats thousands of spectators to a prehistoric version of a shark feeding (of course, with the shark as prey to a massive mosasaurus). Visitors can take kayaks down a river as herbivores roam down the stream alongside. Instead of a campy film and dinosaur bones in the visitor center, the new hub contains interactive game screens and holographic dino-projections. Gone are the bare-bones safari jeeps, replaced by futuristic plexiglass orbs.
What could be a more perfect demonstration for the changing scale of hollywood’s action blockbusters in the 20-plus years between Park’s 1993 debut and World’s in 2015? More than just a reflection of the differences in budgets ($63 million for the first film, up to $215 million for the new one), action films are now expected to be built around large-scale set-piece scenes with maximum spectacle. Thanks to advances in CGI, the boundaries have become endless in action films, from the battle-suit robots of Pacific Rim to the interstellar armies in The Avengers. And so, keeping with this action-film-mandated-extravagance, as soon as the brothers make it to Nublar Island in Jurassic World, the audience is treated to a glorious montage of all of the park’s newest dinosaur attractions.
This establishing montage probably lasts no more than three or four minutes, but that becomes pretty significant when faced with this somewhat startling fact: in the original Jurassic Park, CGI dinosaurs are on screen for a total of less than 6 minutes (shots using practical effects make up another 14 minutes). Could there be a clearer parallel between World’s overstuffed park, and it’s primary composition of gargantuan CGI masterpieces? The park has become stuffed to the gills with flashy attractions, just as the film is with its over-the-top special effects.
Of Dinosaurs & Chris Pratt
Speaking of CGI, when Zach and Gray first arrive at Jurassic World, their Aunt Claire, the operations manager for the park and their off-and-on guardian for the weekend, is otherwise occupied promoting the park’s upcoming attraction: the first genetic hybrid dinosaur (a combination of a T-Rex and a running mystery). It is later pointed out that the dinosaurs were always technically genetic hybrids, as the original film’s engineers filled gaps in the dino DNA with pieces of frogs.
Spielberg’s original dinosaurs were also technically a hybrid combination: that of traditional practical special effects — including models, animatronics, and puppets — and the new wave of CGI. But this new dinosaur, the menacing indominus rex, is the physicalization of modern action film CGI: the creation of something unnatural, oversized and overpowered, brought into the world to awe and entertain, through the tinkering of our brilliant scientists (albeit computer graphics programmers instead of bioengineers). As for the piecemeal nature of the beast, composed of different pieces of various predators, how many big-budget films are released these days that don’t feel as though they’re cobbled together from the pieces of 20 other films we’ve already seen?
I’d like to mention at this point that I do not read the indominus rex or Jurrasic World (the park) solely as metaphors for Jurassic World (the film). In fact, I believe that these entities are stand-ins for the modern big-budget blockbuster, while the original Jurassic Park not only stands for the original Jurassic Park, but also for the classic hollywood action film.
Consider the character of Claire. Contrasting the wide-eyed and optimistic John Hammond who runs the original park, Claire’s concerns with the park are single-tracked: profits. As she tours the park’s owner Simon Masrani around, she overwhelms the philosophical businessman with her financial worldview. How can we view Claire as anything but a stereotypical Hollywood studio executive, whose profession is to create spectacle and entertainment, yet with a focus only on wrestling money away from consumers? She is the entertainment industry machine, and to her, bringing in more guests (and more money) is what the enterprise is all about.
Contrasting Claire, the audience is next introduced to Owen Grady, a velociraptor expert who believes he is able to train the dinosaurs, in the same way a zookeeper might try to train a bear or lion. We watch Owen first direct the raptors’ attention from a platform above, and then keep them at bay after an accident drops him into their enclosure.
Rather than Claire’s view of the dinosaurs as a revenue stream, Owen sees the creatures as intelligent in their own right, worthy and manageable, able to show restraint if trained. Owen seems representative of the modern auteur action director, who rose in the wake of Spielberg’s early 90's successes to restrain action films into a more sophisticated form. I’m speaking of directors like David Fincher (Se7en, Fight Club) or Christopher Nolan (The Dark Knight trilogy, Inception), who have been prasied for their creation of action films with an added focus on story, character, and theme (as opposed to, say, action directors like Michael Bay).
Of course, Claire and Owen butt heads, as any destined-to-be-together on-screen couple seems like they must (and if this were a different film, the same conflict we see between money versus art). Owen warns Claire that the enclosure she has built around her indominus rex seems insufficient to contain it. And sure enough, a few story beats later, we discover Owen’s intuition to be predictably foreshadowing.
These giant metaphors for hubris have unexpectedly starting doing bad things
As in any large-scale analogue to hubris, the dinosaurs eventually escape their cages and begin overrunning the park and its guests. Of course, Zach and Gray are oblivious to this until the indominus attacks their plexiglass orb, and they make a narrow escape. Wandering through the woods afterwards, what should they stumble upon?
What else but the original Jurassic Park. In major disrepair and overgrown with foliage, the decrepit center is still instantly recognizable, and in the streaming daylight still maintains its original sense of grandeur. And what a key point this discovery makes: at the core of any big-scale action film, the same ideas still remain as from the early glassics. The sense of grandeur, of awe, of visual dazzle, these all remain, even if the outside has become so over-engineered, dumbed-down, and homogenized that the new result is unrecognizable. Perhaps the greatest moments of pleasure in Jurassic World are the hidden references to the original film the audiences find as the boys explore the abandoned building.
So we’ve got lots of analogues in play at this point:
- The raptors and Owen for the modern auteur action film and its director;
- The indominus rex and Claire for the modern simplistic and generic CGI blockbuster, and it’s profit-focused producer; as well the entire park itself;
- The original Jurassic Park for the classic hollywood action film, and the core of what makes it special
Now the indominus is loose on the island, with the boys in jeopardy. But how are all of these allegories tied together? I’d like to consider Isla Nublar itself, the stage where all of our action (and the action of Jurassic Park) takes place.
Isla Nublar is not representative of any particular action film, but rather the soul and legacy of action cinema itself. Zach and Gray are the future generations of filmgoers, those who will be looking back on the cannon of action films and assessing its legacy. They are observers of the world, taking in the sights, and forming their personal judgements of what the world is like. And similarly, in the future they will be judging the canon we have created.
However, as Zach and Gray try to reunite with Claire, the indominus is running loose throughout the island, trying to take control. This is Spielberg’s fear: the low-quality modern action blockbuster will dominate the legacy of action films, casting a shadow over the standouts in the genre. For his part, I believe that Spielberg can be viewed as an analogue for island owner Masrani. By producing his own big-budget action reboot of Jurassic Park, Spielberg is asserting that he can take the reins of the action film legacy in the present day, and still make a high-quality work, instead of a generic film for profits. But just as Masrani believes he can drive a helicopter better than his actual capabilities, it doesn’t take long into the film to realize that Spielberg’s reclamation of the genre might not be as firmly under his control as he had thought (see: the latest Indiana Jones reboot). When Masrani’s helicopter finally crashes, the sight could not be more appropriate than a Michael-Bay-style explosion overtaking the screen.
The battle for control: in 3D!
As we move into the third act of the film, the indominus has escaped (read: simplistic and generic modern action films have become rampant in cinema), efforts to stop it by park security are all in vain (read: the scathing reviews of critics do nothing to stop the production of additional bad low-quality and big-budget action films), and the park-goes are now being attacked (read: audiences’ expectations and tastes are being dumbed down). This is the do-or-die moment: what will be the fate of Zach and Gray? Is it possible for the legacy of action films to overcome the modern lightweight-blockbuster?
After much protest, Owen agrees to try to something drastic against the indominus: he will lead his trained raptors into battle against the beast. Clearly, this is the hope that, in the legacy of cinema, the impact of the auteur action film will be able to overpower the trend of the superficial action film. However, the indonimus easily bests the raptors in battle. That’s when our ragtag team formulates an even more drastic plan…
Release the T-rex.
Yes, at our climax, we’re awarded yet another blatant symbol the original Jurassic Park.
With a nice callback to the red flare used to attract the T-rex in the first film, Claire releases our original big bad guy from his paddock, and drags him into the fight against indominus. Only with the combined powers of the T-rex and the raptors does the indominus start to falter.
Here is finally the film’s first point on the legacy of the action film: it is ultimately the classic action film (along with help from the modern auteur action film) that will be able to redeem the genre’s legacy. Together, the full body of superior action films will be able to stand the impact of the bombastic populist pieces. It is only by “letting out” the classic films, which is to say making them a continuing part of the cultural conversation, that the quality action film will survive.
But also important to note: it is not the raptors and T-rex alone that down the indominus. In fact, the decisive and final blow is the jaws of the giant aquatic mosasaur, whose attraction is the epitome of the park’s excesses.
What is this saying? In the end, other films are not necessary to redeem the genre, but rather, the excesses of big-budget cinema will ultimately be its downfall. The unintelligent blockbuster will be its own undoing, the film posits, as it simply cannot sustain itself for too long without collapsing under its own unrestrained aggression. Zach and Gray will be safe. The legacy of the action genre will remain something Spielberg, and audiences, can be proud of.
A Final Thought
“Life finds a way.”
— Dr. Ian Malcolm
I make no claim that the writers and producers of Jurassic World sat down and plotted out a script that follows as intricate an allegory as I have presented here. I will claim, however, that meaning will find a way into work in any medium, regardless of the artists’ intentions. There is a meta-message in everything that is created, even subconsciously.
Is this theory airtight? Not at all. There’s lots left dangling. But throughout the whole screening of this film, I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that all the references to “Jurassic Park” and “Jurassic World” went deeper than just the parks themselves. Whether it was truly intended as meta-commentary is up for debate. But it is clear to me that, regardless, Jurassic World is a beautiful allegory for itself.
