Jurassic World (2015)

 Is Jurassic World (2015) simply a cash cow for fan service, with brazen product placement and an unstoppable budget? And can it compete critically without Spielberg directing?

After twenty-two years since we first came face to snarling-face with Spielberg's reanimated dinosaurs, we have arrived here: to a monolithic adventure park that finally sees John Hammond's (Sir Richard Attenborough) vision a reality. However, this thrill ride sees Spielberg offering his directorial chair to the indie wonder Colin Trevorrow; renowned for his wonderfully wholesome and fantastical Safety Not Guaranteed (2012). Instead he has opted, as he has done in recent years, to act as Executive Producer overseeing the production with creative integrity and dinosaur mayhem in check. The question we should then be asking is can Tevorrow deliver to the franchise? Can the spectacle revived from the original astonish us, and hopefully bury the atrocious Jurassic Park 3 which mortified our eyes with mere fan service and stretched narrative device. It has only taken a few glimpses of teeth, a handful of notes from John Williams' nostalgic score, and a sprinkling of references to Jurassic Park (1993), to reunite the fans for the biggest battle of prehistoric creatures in what seems like too long.

Since it was last in operation in 1993, the park has seen a massive overhaul in innovations, dinosaur genetics and viewing experience. Now under management, with Simon Masrani (Iffan Khan) acting as the main investor and 8th richest man in the world he has now continued to pursue Hammond's dream, by creating not just a park, but an infrastructure. A multitude of enclosures, paddocks and quasi-sea-world shows and you have Jurassic World. Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard), the park operations manager and Auntie to Zach and Gray Mitchell (Nick Robinson & Ty Simpkins), has the misfortune of playing host to the boys while attempting to run a park and contending with a new park attraction - the aptly named Indominus Rex - a name met with immediate mockery by the characters. As can be expected operations don't run smoothly in Jurassic World, so Claire calls in dinosaur expertise, and resident eye-candy. Chris Pratt plays Owen Grady, an ex-Navy Seal turned park trainer, who sees past the scaly exterior of theses scientific experiments, and actually bonds with and raises several Velociraptors to take commands. Compared to everyone else, customers included, he appears to be the only one who realises these are still ruthless predators, regardless of genetic domestication. Therefore he treats them with a balance of fear and respect.

It all sounds like a dream come true. The dinosaurs have become genetically modified so they are born ostensibly domesticated; making them much easier to control. These once wild beasts that were highest on the food chain are now pets to be paraded around for human amusement, in a park that seems suggestive of the universal theme park in Orlando, Florida - a smart marketing move by Universal Pictures. Yet with all these improvements and advancements, we are reminded of Jeff Goldblum's words 'nature always finds a way', as Owen foreshadows to us the growing hostility that is apparent in animals who remain in captivity. Before long the intimidating Indominus learns of her own confinement, grows smarter, more volatile and devises an escape and tricks the park attendants into becoming dino-chow.  

Woven expertly into this overriding story about the dinosaur attraction, are two other carefully constructed stories in their own right. One perspective is seen through the children attending the park; one gawking at the magnificence, and the other at the girls, while the third narrative perspective takes us behind the scenes. Not so much as a derivation of the first film, which had deception, exploration, car chasing action sequences and humans falling prey to hungry dinosaurs, the latest installment offers practically the same; only this time the action is turned up to eleven. The cliché 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' should be applied fairly here. After all, the writers and produces tried all other variants of plot device in the sequels, and did that work? Well, you can find the answer in Sam Neil's soggy demeanour in Jurassic Park 3 (2001). 

Nevertheless, some comfort can be taken in the fresh faced actors who are happy to take on these archetypes with a gleeful enthusiasm and originality. Pratt and Howard are delightfully well fitted as an on screen couple, following the trail of her character's nephews with quips, in jokes and connectivity that fully rounds out their characters. This immediate backstory develops a romance plot early on that is somewhat unnecessary, but does however invest us in this group of characters. So much so, that we find ourselves transfixed on the acting, and multiply that by ten for the 100 foot talking points surrounding them.

While most viewers will have focused on the characters, and the awe-inspiring dinosaurs, the more astute will have been noticing, the overabundance of product placement for Coke, Mercedes and Samsung. Call it shameless marketing if you will, but Trevorrow has his own answer to this, which he explained to News.com that 'there's something in the film about our greed and desire for profit [...] the Indominus Rex, to me, is that desire.' Therefore it is contestable that Trevorrow's awareness of advertising, commercialism and capitalism is in itself flipped on its head. In one scene, the tech-savvy operator Lowery Cruthers (Jake Johnson) sports a Jurassic Park t-shirt, much to the dismay of Claire. He tells of his attire as a worthwhile purchase from Ebay for $150, before later praising Hammond's initial park concept, and ripping into the commercialisation of the park attraction now. In itself a commentary on Spielberg's simpler narrative of dinosaurs reborn in the age of mankind's dominion, compared to the Frankensteinian hybrid in Trevorrow's movie that is synonymous with the dangers of capitalism. Clearly Trevorrow knows his source material, he deeply adores the franchise and has had the guts to reinvigorate the franchise into something more than just the year's highest grossing film. If it takes selling the souls of the dinosaurs for brand marketing, just to expand the budget, then it may be a practical sacrifice. Especially when you're mocking the whole capitalist ideology in the first place.  

             

Reminiscing back to Jurassic Park, it is noteworthy that the CGI has made vast improvements in the twenty year gap since we first saw those Brachiosaurus grazing on the hills. The opening shot takes care of any preconceptions we may have had for the forthcoming movie. The visuals feel crisper and refined, to the point where you can actually feel those baby dinosaurs clawing out their shells and up to your seat. Similarly, the sound quality and music composition is on top form. The absence of John Williams as musical director is upsetting, but Michael Giacchino fills his particularly large shoes, with a little wiggle room. After some playful homage to the great Williams, Giacchino keeps a consistently atmospheric and unnerving sound, that pierces every scene in all the right places.

Spielberg has pushed the scope for the franchise. When the first film was released, it was the dinosaurs that became the stars. Now, it is the island that is the most diverse character. Boasting viewing decks and rolling bubbles that allow one to immerse themselves in the whole Jurassic experience, then throw into the experience, lectures, archaeology digging and the return of Mr DNA. What we then have is a four dimensional world that is as real to the extras in the film, as the people behind the veil, sitting in their seats, eagerly stuffing popcorn into their mouths. 

It may not have the propulsion to get it any more critical acclaim than art direction and visual effects, but it is certainly a movie that innovates and captivates. Jurassic World will easily follow with sequel after sequel. Quite simply, Trevorrow has injected this franchise with the literal performance enhancer it needed, whilst focusing on the main points: characters, setting, homage and teeth. A roar-some spectacle that every member of the family will enjoy. 

Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) Review

Originally Written: 07/01/2015

Edited: 23/02/2015

Haggard, forgotten movie star, or schizophrenic superhero? Alejandro González Iñárritu’s dark comedy combines the magnificent cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki and punchy dialogue of Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Armando Bo, and Iñárritu himself, to deliver a spellbinding piece of cinema that cleverly transcends expectations and tradition. 

Birdman is Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton), a once loved superhero movie star who has now fallen into the realms of theatre. As a last ditch effort to pull himself from the dregs of obscurity, he adapts a Raymond Carver short story into a play on Broadway. Riggan is pushed to the extremes as he contends with pretentious, hostile actors, dysfunctional family relationships and a malicious journalist pecking at him like a vulture, all in parallel to the demise of Riggan’s spirit through the battling of his secondary persona, as it quickly outshines as the main attraction.  

The narrative outlines more of a melancholia of the disenfranchised celebrity, than the telling of a play. However, Iñárritu comes full circle with this by reflecting the melancholia of said stardom using the featured adaptation as a commentary on troubled relationships. This feature is punctuated primarily through Sam (Emma Stone), Riggan’s daughter, who is fresh out of rehab and now working as Riggan’s assistant. In one particular scene she and her father exchange verbal blows, as she ruthlessly attacks his pretention and selfish intentions to reclaim his accolades, by butchering him as a father and actor. The camera does not cease. We’re in the midst of the action, uninterrupted, as Stone gives one of the best performances to date. The whole audience can feel the angst of this jilted daughter, as this heated argument ends with Stone’s own expression of perplexity and shock.
Accompanying this star studded cast, and portraying their own celebrity counterpart is Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) offering up a stand out performance, with the pretentions of an actor so immersed in his own performance and status that he borders on psychotic, rather than method actor. The important thing to note, is just how Iñárritu is using these actors to comment on their own acting careers, by using the narrative as a device. Norton’s acting prowess is intrinsically linked to Mike Shiner’s egocentric real performances. Almost as explicit as the now dim light of the bat signal, that was Keaton’s stead as Batman. However, it must be emphasised that this is a black comedy, and so it is only fair that the real-life accomplishments of these actors be roasted. 

Yet Birdman is a multifaceted and visually stunning cinematic production, and it would be a travesty to omit the most compelling aspects of this feature, namely the manipulative and subversive cinematography. All pointing to a metafiction of self-grandeur. 

           
Riggan beings to expose the question that so many actors are plagued with; legacy. With reminiscence of so many Hollywood A-listers turned director, Riggan too is constantly under fire. Terrible reviews, setting disasters, ‘difficult’ actors, financial problems, and his own duality of self, Riggan proceeds undeterred like so many writers, producers and directors trying to create their vision. Regardless of the backlash of bad publicity, or Riggan’s nearly naked strut back to the theatre in his underwear, he still immerses himself in his performance. A testament to the ‘show must go on’ attitude that is propagated by artists and visionaries alike. What emerges is an impromptu documentary of the stage play. Sweeping us seamlessly behind the scenes; a voyeuristic glance into the fallings and pitfalls that are inherent within stage productions. This fixed lens – straight out of the Hitchcock directing handbook – delivers unceasing shots in practically real time. Iñárritu envelopes the audience in the action for the entire duration, positioning the audience as the omniscient party behind the curtains. Relationships turn to boiling point, all tightly framed to achieve a clever claustrophobia to reveal the anxiety turned depressed, tired actors all reflecting on the status quo. Yet this becomes somewhat subverted by the overarching narrative device, Riggan’s schizophrenia. 

Compared to the scenes that defy expectations, which are smartly juxtaposed by an intense battle between the protagonist and his wayward daughter and his flustered agent, we as an audience are left struggling to understand the director’s intention behind this metafiction. Is this quite simply one man’s legacy that has took off beyond the constraints of the theatre set, or on the reverse, is this a man who has failed to deliver on his promises and has instead flown the coop? A pivotal question that reinforces the film’s psychological aspects, pushing it in to the realms of “fantasy thriller”. By the film’s conclusion no one has the faintest idea what we are meant to believe. Much like Ridley Scott’s ambiguity surrounding Blade Runner’s protagonist, Iñárritu will endeavour to keep a closed lip on his interpretation of what Birdman represents. 

Birdman: a visually stunning and mesmerising cinematic gem. No film has astounded me quite like this film in the last five years. Iñárritu gracefully sweeps the audience through the duration of this film with tremendous acting, beautiful cinematography and visuals, and an original screenplay worthy of an Oscar.