Once upon a time, Spielberg gave us Jurassic Park — a cinematic miracle that fused science with suspense and left us wide-eyed every time that T-Rex roared. Fast forward to 2025 and here we are, watching Jurassic World: Rebirth — the cinematic equivalent of a badly reanimated corpse that doesn’t know whether to scare you, seduce you, or sell you theme park merchandise.
Spoiler: it does none of the above well. Look, I love dinosaurs. I grew up on Jurassic Park with wide eyes and uneven breathing. But Jurassic World: Rebirth isn’t nostalgia. It’s a Frankenstein of bad ideas—mutant dinosaurs, sloppy CGI, and a misspent Scarlett Johansson — and it’s high time someone called it out. Even the T-Rex doesn’t really scare you and that’s a worrying trend for these movies.
A Genetic Mess — Literally
Let’s start with the dinosaurs, or rather, the CGI-fueled mutations pretending to be dinosaurs. This movie introduces creatures so far removed from prehistoric reality that even a Pokémon evolution chart would make more sense. We’re talking about six-limbed hybrid monstrosities with wings, venom, and—wait for it—invisibility cloaks. I wish I was joking.
There was a time when a raptor in a kitchen had us clutching the armrests. Now we have a genetically modified reptilian rave gone wrong, tearing through the plot like it’s auditioning for a Resident Evil spin-off.
Suspense? Zero.
Science? Irrelevant.
Logic? Extinct.
The CGI Problem Nobody Wants to Admit
If you’re expecting breathtaking visuals, don’t. The effects here look like they were churned out by an overworked animation intern with a hangover. The dinosaurs, once textured and terrifying, now look like they’re rendered in the same engine as a mobile game. Everything’s glossy, hyper-lit, and emotionally flat. Remember when the original Brachiosaurus made you cry? This one makes you yawn.
The visuals are flashy, yes. But they’re also hollow. The original T-Rex scene in 1993 made you feel something—fear, awe, respect. In Rebirth, the dinosaurs look like slick holograms bouncing around like Marvel characters on a green screen. You don’t fear them. You expect them to start breakdancing at any point. The weight, the texture, the sense of realism that made the original Jurassic Park unforgettable? Gone. Eaten. Digested. Extinct.
Scarlett Johansson Deserved Better
Yes, the film has Scarlett Johansson. And yes, it still fails. Scarlett Johansson is a rare commodity—a star who elevates mediocre material. But here? She’s Zora Bennett, a covert ops badass reduced to reacting to novelty mutations like a deer in the headlights. She’s the lead, but the script seems determined to bury her talent beneath mountains of exposition, recycled one-liners, and the kind of dramatic scenes that look like they were shot between coffee breaks. She’s either screaming, surviving, or smoldering — with little else to do in between. Honestly, you could’ve replaced her with a cardboard cutout and the plot would’ve rolled along just fine.
The Plot: A Tangled Jungle of Nonsense
The plot is a stitched-together narrative corpse. A billionaire wants a miracle cure. Naturally, this means sending mercenaries to poke around in prehistoric DNA with the subtlety of a jackhammer. We get the usual “extract DNA from an apex predator, ignore all moral consequence, release chaos” formula—but this time with more tech jargon and even less sense. There’s a side plot involving a shipwrecked family, but it’s so disconnected and emotionally void it feels like a deleted scene from Lost. Everything moves fast, but nothing actually builds. Scenes exist not because they matter, but because a screenwriter probably said, “We haven’t had an explosion in a while.”
Remember when the original Jurassic Park grounded us with plausible science? Rebirth gleefully tosses that out the raptor cage and introduces us to Distortus rex—a six-limbed abomination born from InGen’s genetic knockoff experiment. It predates the main story by 17 years, escaped containment, and kills an unlucky staffer—then just fades into the ecosystem like it’s in a Pokémon cartoon. The whole thing feels like the writers threw darts at a wall labeled “cool stuff” and strung it together with duct tape and nostalgia.
Emotionally Bankrupt and Creatively Dead
Rebirth wants to trick you into caring. It brings back the iconic music (only to underuse it), drops references to Hammond and Wu, and flashes a few shots of the OG park. But it’s all surface-level bait. There’s no heart, no soul—just empty echoes of a franchise that once had both. This is a franchise that used to ask, “What happens when humans try to control nature?” Now it’s asking, “How many laser-guided dinosaurs can we fit into one scene?”
There’s no soul here. None of the awe, wonder, or ethical tension that made Jurassic Park a landmark. Just endless chaos, more roars per minute, and dialogue so wooden you’d think AI wrote it. Except even ChatGPT would’ve passed on this gig.
JAY’S VERDICT
Jurassic World: Rebirth is proof that just because you can resurrect a franchise, doesn’t mean you should. It’s noisy, directionless, and a pale shadow of the greatness it tries so desperately to emulate. If this is the rebirth, then let’s do the humane thing and pull the plug.
