DINOSAURS, BITCHES.

JURASSIC PARK (1993)

"Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherits the earth."

Let's get one thing straight. Dinosaurs are badass. If you don't think dinosaurs are badass, you need to get an MRI pronto because chances are, you have a large parasite eating away at the part of your brain that differentiates badass from Justin Bieber. With that said, Jurassic Park could have easily been cool without even trying. They could've slapped a couple CGI creatures in there, and then slapped a couple hundred more flying little digital splashes of color and called it a day. Because that's how movies are made, right?

Image from www.filmofilia.com

Wrong. Jurassic Park is how movies are made. Or at least, how movies should be made. No matter how many times I've seen it, I have yet to find a single fucking flaw in the thing. When I say it's a flawless movie, I mean it's a motherfucking flawless movie. So flawless that I had to review it twice because I just couldn't contain my feelings. It is better or worse in 3D? Meh. As an avid 3D disparager, I actually didn't mind it in 3D this time around. Why? Well, because it's Jurassic Park on the big screen. They could've had those irritating television popup ads on the bottom corner of the screen every five minutes and I still would've enjoyed the shit out of it. 

What makes this movie a timeless classic is this: it brings out the child in us. And I don't mean the child who wants to go see animated spy hamsters roll around for an hour an a half (guilty as charged). I mean that feeling of absolute wonderment we get when we see something for the first time. That unbridled curiosity, the desire to know, to feel, to touch, to jump out of a moving car because hell, if the animals won't come to us, we'll go to them. Really, it's a filmmaker's wet dream, the ability to capture the essence of filmmaking in one solid film. You want to wow me, give me dinosaurs, give me lovable characters, give me a score that I can feel expand in my ribcage. 

Image from businessinsider.com.

The brilliant thing is, Jurassic Park is about so much more than dinosaurs. It's about Dr. Alan Grant, played by you'll-never-get-a-better-role Sam Neill, who finds something in him capable of change, of evolution. It's about Dr. Ellie Sattler, played by you'll-really-never-get-a-better-role Laura Dern, who constantly challenges male hierarchy and, more often than not, beats them at their own game. Can I get a holla for a badass female character who doesn't have to hide her femininity or the fact that her biological clock is ticking to be considered a "badass?" Jurassic Park is about Dr. Ian Malcolm (you'll-never-be-hotter Jeff Goldblum), who constantly warns the heroes of the chaos to come but doesn't get to say I-told-you-so until it's far too late. More than anything, however, this movie is about motherfucking John Hammond (thank-you-for-your-awesome-face Richard Attenborough), who you love, then hate, then love some more, because he's flawed to his core but hell, at the end of the day, we can't really blame him.

Of course, I have to give a shout out to my favorite people in film: the minor characters. Those who doesn't get half as much love as they should because at the end of the day, they're the shoulders the heroes stand on to get to the finish line. First, we've got a rebellion-son subplot which, honestly, didn't need to be there, but hell, the 90s were good to Wayne Knight. So sure, the storm could've come through and ripped out the security systems and let all the dinosaurs loose, but that wouldn't have been half as fun, nor would it have been half as human, to watch Dennis bumble around and taunt a small, curious, and--dare we say--sassy dilophosaurus. Then we've got the two grandkids, Tim and Lex Murphy, who just had Steven Spielberg stamped all over them. If anyone knows how to write realistic, witty, and badass children, it's Steven Spielberg. He's pretty much the only director that can throw children on the screen and not kill the movie instantly. True story.

Image from fyeahjurassicpark.tumblr.com.

But hey, this wouldn't be a Smoking Pen review if I didn't give a shout out to my man Samuel L. Jackson. Who knew he could play such a damn good nerd? Especially when he's burning through cigarettes like no tomorrow. Finally, my favorite character, Robert Muldoon, played by Bob Peck. He's a small role, but he's a hunter who gets what was coming to him while, at the same time, going out in a blaze. It's a subtle character, but you feel both satisfied by his death and redeemed. Plus, he has the line, "clever girl." Can't top that.

And the end of the day, despite the epic actors and the even more epic dinosaurs, we have to acknowledge the fact that it was the score that really put the movie miles ahead of all other monster movies. That feeling of awe you get when you see the Brachiosaurus rear up to get the high leaves? The intensity that builds as the children climb the electric fence? The moment you fall in love with motherfucking pelicans? Yes, the writing is great, I'm really happy for you, I'ma let you finish--but can I please shake John Williams' hand? I'd wax poetic, but I'm really just going to let it speak for itself. Enjoy 3:20 of motherfucking instrumental magic. Bitches.