JURASSIC WORLD: REBIRTH. This Isn’t Renaissance

Jurassic World: Rebirth is without a doubt one of the most bizarre titles in the history of the franchise. It suggests a reboot, a return to roots – and yet it offers absolutely nothing of the sort. It’s still just recycling: reheated themes from Jurassic Park, elements of survival cinema, and animal-attack tropes. At the same time, the film sinks into a narrative dead zone and completely misunderstands that audiences come to a dinosaur movie to see… dinosaurs. Not mutants. Not hybrids. If they wanted mutants, they’d go see Mutant World: Rebirth. The film has two faces. The first – which won me over – lasts until about halfway through, maybe a bit longer. The second – the ending – is something I sincerely despise.

Because it embodies a total lack of understanding of the spirit of the series. And that hurts even more because, along the way, we get a few brilliant scenes that hit right at the heart of dinomania. But in the broader picture, they feel like the filmmakers are toying with us: “Look, we could have done it right, done it classically, with respect – but nah, we chose something else, because dinosaurs are passé.” Still, it’s a better film than Dominion, which I called “a crapstorm with dinosaurs in the background” right after the premiere three years ago – and I haven’t changed my mind, even if it gained a little through watching it with my son.

That’s because Jurassic World: Rebirth, on the level of action and execution, gets the job done – visually, it’s stunning… and that only makes it a more frustrating example of a wasted opportunity. Gareth Edwards – alas – simply doesn’t seem to like dinosaurs. And no, I don’t mean that he said so in some promo interview. You can feel it in the structure of the film itself. Dinosaurs are there – but only briefly. By the finale, they’re gone. And this isn’t even about spoilers – there’s nothing to spoil. The film is painfully predictable. No surprises, deaths checked off like a list, and plot armor protects the right people, even when it makes no sense. The script? Even for survival cinema – tragic in the second half.

Rebirth really wants to be about surviving in extreme conditions. But the level of narrative sabotage past the halfway mark is outrageous. It’s hard to feel any suspense when you’re being shown hydrocephalic dinosaurs and wyverns – and you came to see dinosaurs. But that’s not even the worst of it – the real problem is how the story just follows a by-the-numbers path in the finale, with none of the intended emotional payoff. It’s all showy spectacle. David Koepp – yes, the same one who wrote the original – and company should honestly be barred from writing more. It hurts to say this, because I love the first film with a passion. It’s a cornerstone of my pop culture and cinematic experience.

Here, the number of plot holes and idiocies is off the charts. There’s barely any horror – even though the film clearly wants to go in that direction. At first, there’s a setup – simple, but it’s something. Then the action starts, there’s a nod to Jaws, and then… it all falls apart. The plot splits between two groups of characters. The storyline gets fragmented, there are too many characters – and Edwards completely fails to handle it. Some characters have their story arcs written in an appalling way – plots are introduced and immediately dropped.

The worst offenses are in the family subplot, which is not only unnecessary, but is used as a clumsy device to hint at the mysterious, tragic past of Kincade (played by Mahershala Ali). The family members eventually start acting like they’re in some parody skit. And yet… there are three or four brilliant scenes, drenched in the atmosphere of the original trilogy. In each of them, the dinosaurs take center stage – naturalistic, fresh, compelling. The scene with the titanosaurs (mercenaries led by Zora – Scarlett Johansson does her best with a script that gives her nothing) is a beautiful nod to the brachiosaurus scene from the first Park.

So evocative, it brought a tear to my eye. The sequence with the mosasaur and spinosaurus is the best Jaws homage I’ve seen in years – but narratively, it’s completely wasted. The biggest heartbreak – as always – is how the T-Rex is handled. For years, the creators seem to have had a strange grudge against the franchise’s biggest icon. This time its appearance is different, intriguing – it starts out a bit slapstick, unfortunately, but ends with a great visual and suspenseful sequence. And… that’s it.

Shame. None of these scenes come together into a coherent whole. The film is predictable, shapeless, and lacks rhythm. Even the first Jurassic World told its story better. But my biggest disappointment with Edwards is that he takes on a movie about dinosaurs – and then almost completely removes them. Instead, we get a finale full of mutants, with no emotional weight, no logic, no meaning. Too many characters, no background, no development. Even Jurassic Park III had scientific musings, reflections on animal behavior, and moral dilemmas – something to hold the narrative together. Here, there’s no room for any of that. Too many characters, too much chaos, too little time. As a result, the film lacks cohesion, and the finale feels completely disconnected from the spirit of the series. Because Jurassic Park, underneath its animal-attack exterior, always carried something more: reflections on humanity, nature, and the limits of science. Here, there’s none of that. Just a checklist of tropes we forget about before the credits roll. And yet – and here’s the paradox – it’s still worth seeing on the big screen. If only for those four fantastic scenes. If only to feel, for a fleeting moment, that thrill evoked by the first glimpse of the brachiosaurus in the meadow.

Jurassic World: Rebirth is not a good film. But in a few moments, it reminds us how great dinosaur cinema could be. If only someone genuinely loved them. If only it didn’t have to be a flashy, profit-driven product. It’s a shame that with each big-budget film, Gareth Edwards becomes more and more bland – when he once stood out for boldness and defying franchise conventions.