At the age of eight, comfortably installed in a movie theater, I witnessed, dumbfounded, a real little miracle. Before my astonished eyes, moved with a mixture of grace and quiet strength a creature disappeared for millions of years. This is our critic of Jurassic World movie.
Jurassic World movie critic
A magnificent being, a power of nature that came back to life for my greatest happiness. A moment of pure poetry, of sweet childish reverie, accompanied by the exhilarating score of a John Williams at the height of his art, and which left me with the same ecstatic smile as the characters when the symphony reached its apotheosis and revealed to us a peaceful herd savoring a very ephemeral tranquility at the edge of a sparkling lake. The kind of memory dear to the heart of a big kid who can not help but shiver at the mere mention of this moment suspended in time.
Twenty-two years later, I was invited to relive this fabulous event, I was offered the opportunity to go through the doors of this mythical park again. Just for me ? Perhaps. To fill the boxes? Sure, but it was already the case on my first visit anyway, which didn’t stop the magic from happening. To put me in condition, to vibrate the sensitive chord of nostalgia, they stroke me in the direction of the grain, they give me big winks, we even bring out the notes of Williams. But anyhow, without any rhythm, on any image, like a too well-oiled machine.
Like Scream 4, Jurassic World movie is aware from its first moments of its ungrateful nature of late sequel. Throughout the two hours of screening, he will not cease to regret the jaded air of spectators too long drunk with manufactured products where the dough and the overbidding have replaced all spontaneity, all emotion, all magic. And like the Wes Craven film, it will not deviate from this line, from this calibrated direction, will not offer anything other than a pale copy of the original film.
A hypocritical speech (as if admitting to doing shit reduced the stench), coupled with a statement going totally against what the masterpiece of Steven Spielberg wanted to convey, the fatally indomitable nature of the first shutter finally finding a very practical way to adapt to the requirements of a script content to laboriously copy the pieces of bravery seen more than twenty years ago.
Entrusted despite common sense to the unknown Colin Trevorrow (who had no real feat of arms but the indie comedy Safety not Guaranteed), Jurassic World struggles throughout to arouse the slightest tension, the slightest wonder, chaining the sequences mechanically and filming his bestiary without ever trying to iconize it a minimum. Without being catastrophic, the staging is bland, without relief or personality, leaving the visual effects to do the job.
Never spectacular because of a distressing banality, devoid of the smallest scale, Jurassic World movie also fair its gallery of characters, yet essential to the success of the first part. Here they are nothing but caricatures, traveling clichés, dehumanized and boring puppets that a sympathetic cast on paper cannot transcend. The two kids are unbearable, Chris Pratt plays nothing, Bryce Dallas Howard is content to run while opening his eyes wide, Vincent D’Onofrio is hard to see and Omar Sy, visibly slashed in the editing, comes to say hello here and the.
Ending on a last quarter of an hour of abysmal bullshit that would become almost funny if the whole was not so hypocritical and lazy, Jurassic World movie is ultimately just one more calibrated production, of which I would have retained only a relative astonishing violence for this kind of blockbuster general public; a manufactured product whose objective is to pump the sorrel of the spectator by waving the banner of nostalgia, without never offering him the spectacle promised in return.