One Paragraph Movie Review: Jurassic Park

Two hundred and eighty-first film: Jurassic Park, the 1993 thriller about an adventure park that includes a lot of extinct things like dinosaurs and CD-ROMs. This is an extremely exciting movie in which a cuddly billionaire extracts dinosaur DNA from amber-trapped prehistoric mosquitoes and clones it to populate a tourable attraction — a premise more credible than the multiple just-in-the-nick-of-time escapes peppered throughout it. Which is actually fine, because this is a silly Spielberg melodrama with Jeff Goldblum’s chest and a glassful of ominously-vibrating water in it, so all bets are off. We suspend our disbelief like skeletons from a visitor centre ceiling, yet still save room for the main message of the movie — that you can get your boyfriend to like kids if he just gets the opportunity to rescue some from a T-Rex and a couple of velociraptors. RRRAAAHHH. Three and three-quarter giant piles of triceratops dung out of five.