Science Fiction

Jurassic World Rebirth: Yawn of the Dinosaurs

Jeremy BeckReviews
Jonathan Bailey and Scarlett Johansson in Jurassic World Rebirth

Do people still like dinosaurs? The box office data would seem to say so, but the deflated characters of the new Jurassic World movie aren’t so sure. “Nobody cares about these animals anymore,” bemoans Dr. Henry Loomis (Jonathan Bailey), the curator of a prehistoric museum with flagging attendance. Shortly before, we learn that a brachiosaur has escaped from confinement in New York City, yet while the sight of a mighty beast roaming the Big Apple’s sidewalks might have once provoked astonishment or panic, now it results in a simple traffic jam. The return of ancient “terrible lizards” to contemporary civilization is no longer cause for wonder or terror. It’s just an annoyance.

The chief innovation (or regression) of this latest episode in the Jurassic World franchise—which is subtitled Rebirth, and which has been directed by Gareth Edwards from a script by David Koepp—is that it’s aware of its own potential obsolescence. Now that hulking computer-generated monsters are pro forma in mainstream cinema, a new Jurassic flick has little hope of conjuring the sense of majesty that accompanied Steven Spielberg’s 1993 classic. So despite some cheeky references to that picture—the shot of a car’s mirror with its famous “Objects are closer than they appear” warning; a faded banner proclaiming “When dinosaurs ruled the earth”—Rebirth doesn’t attempt to match its conceptual grandeur or vast ambition. It’s a blockbuster about huge creatures that keeps things relatively small. Read More

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Mickey 17: Live Esprit or Die Scarred

Jeremy BeckReviews
Robert Pattinson in Mickey 17

Cinema is a medium of imagination, and science-fiction is a genre of possibility. So it’s understandable that movies about the future tend to be, if not optimistic, at least aspirational—conjuring a realm of flying cars and exotic planets and soulful cyborgs. Mickey 17, the latest whatsit from Bong Joon-ho, tacks in the opposite direction. It asks, with a mixture of whimsy and sincerity: What if the future sucks?

To be fair, this line of prospective apprehension has its own gloomy descendants. (Just last year, Alien: Romulus continued that franchise’s preoccupation with capitalistic drudgery, conceiving of a mining colony where indentured servants labored in permanent darkness.) But Bong’s vision here is distinctive for how it depicts galactic exploration as an error-riddled process that’s permanently, perpetually janky. Hardly anything works smoothly in Mickey 17; its characters are constantly beset by glitchy conveyor belts and ineffectual antidotes and crappy cooking, not to mention the usual human malice and venality. It feels a lot like the world of today, only with more spaceships and aliens. Read More

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Companion: Beauty Is in the AI of the Beholder

Jeremy BeckReviews
Jack Quaid and Sophie Thatcher in Companion

She’s the perfect girlfriend. She’s smart but not intimidating. She’s pretty but doesn’t draw too much attention to herself. She’s a good listener but doesn’t dominate the conversation. She’s good in bed but doesn’t demand her own gratification. She’s everything a man could want, and nothing he can’t handle.

The chief satirical insight of Companion, the slick and engaging new thriller from Drew Hancock, is that the preceding paragraph’s negative phrases—emphasizing a woman’s passivity, her lack of desire or independence—function as positive attributes. For the men in this movie, the platonic ideal of romantic partnership isn’t equality but compliance. They aren’t interested in being challenged or enriched; they just want to be admired and obeyed. Read More

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Megalopolis: An Offer He Can’t Excuse

Jeremy BeckReviews
Adam Driver in Megalopolis

The story of Megalopolis is that of a power-drunk visionary struggling to wield his formidable artistic gifts within the constraints imposed on him by an entrenched and inflexible society. Oh, and stuff happens in the movie too.

The saga of the production of Megalopolis, the first new Francis Ford Coppola film I’ve seen in nearly 30 years, is a juicy and tawdry tale, full of hubris, chaos, and despair. It is also vastly more intriguing than the movie itself, which—for all its stately ambition and grandiloquent style—is most notable for its tedium and incoherence. It is the unhappy outcome of what appears to have been an unruly process. Read More

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Alien: Romulus: Razed by Wolves

Jeremy BeckReviews
Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson in Alien: Romulus

The first Alien was a very scary movie, but it also spawned a franchise that was unusually fearless in terms of reinvention. Made seven years apart, Ridley Scott’s singular original and James Cameron’s pluralized sequel share a few commonalities (Sigourney Weaver, those snarling xenomorphs), but they’re dramatically different in terms of tone and style; one is a gritty, claustrophobic creature feature, while the other is a boisterous, kinetic action extravaganza. David Fincher’s Alien 3 isn’t nearly as good as either of its predecessors, but it earns points for its despairing atmosphere and its defiant refusal to just replay the hits.

But the longer a series runs, the harder it is for each new installment to distinguish itself. Alien: Romulus, which is either the seventh or ninth episode (depending on whether you count its crossovers with the Predator pictures) of outer-space screaming, is a modestly diverting blockbuster, featuring some decent character work and a few scenes of nerve-jangling suspense. But it lacks a true identity or personality, instead feebly mirroring the first Alien (and the underrated Resurrection). The only thing scarier than a monster bursting from your chest, it seems, is the prospect of nudging this franchise in a new direction. Read More

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