ONE WAY

Stars: Colson Baker, Storm Reid, Drea de Matteo, Travis Fimmel, Rhys Coiro, Meagan Holder,  Luis Da Silva Jr., Thomas Francis Murphy, K.D. O'Hair and Kevin Bacon.
Writer: Ben Conway
Director: Andrew Baird

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The school bus drivers of my youth would have wrapped up Andrew Baird’s backseat potboiler One Way in about five minutes, so demanding were they of good behaviour. There was no tolerance for bags of coke, cash, handguns or bleeding-out petty crims on the Carlingford-Epping Hillsbus #549. Fortunately, for audiences who appreciate a well-structured and atmospheric crime thriller, the Sunways coachline team let a lot unravel on this late night run.

Fleeing a bold and bloody drug/cash heist is mid-level street hood Freddy, played by Colson Baker. Those of a certain age know the star as white rapper/red-carpet staple Machine Gun Kelly, aka MGK, but here he is donning his ‘serious actor’ persona. And he’s very good, conveying first the pain of a gut-shot wound and then existential angst as he realises he needs to get things in order with his ex, ER nurse Christine (Meghan Holder) and estranged daughter (Colson’s real-life tyke, Casie Baker) before the inevitable happens (not really a spoiler, as it’s right there in the title).

Trying to navigate his way out of trouble and into Christine’s care from a bus seat, Freddy befriends teen runaway Rachel (a terrific Storm Reid) while coping with the occasional pain-related hallucination. Also on board is Travis Fimmel’s social worker Phil (“You don’t look like a social worker,” notes Freddy, presciently) and, as the aforementioned bus driver who only has eyes for the road ahead, Thomas Francis Murphy. As the Puerto Rican crime boss hunting down our anti-hero, Drea de Matteo deliver ice-cold villainy well; as Freddy’s scumbag father, whose rare blood type may be all that can save his desperate son, Kevin Bacon brings that capital-H ‘Hollywood’ presence to some nasty moments.

Freddy carries two mobiles (including a ‘burner’, which I’ve learned is a thing today), which means One Way is a film in which a lot of time is spent watching actors reacting to phone screens and not other actors; it is usually something I cringe at, but Baird, DOP Tobia Sempi and editor John Walters keep the interactions lively. It is also likely the project was bound by pandemic protocols, adding immeasurably to the credit due the production unit for pulling off such a convincing confined-space dramatic conceit.

The Irish director’s first mainland U.S.A. shoot is steeped in the rain-soaked, neon-bathed lore of ‘70’s American crime-noir thrillers; it is not too hard to envision a version of One Way with Walter Hill calling the shots and a cast boasting the likes of Bruce Dern and Warren Oates. Baird leans into some modern flourishes that Hill and his hard-edged contemporaries would have baulked at (lens flare, slow-motion, strong female characters), but it is nevertheless a sturdy work and confirms the filmmaker is a talent to watch.

SMILE

Stars: Sosie Bacon, Jessie Usher, Kyle Gallner, Robin Weigert, Caitlin Stasey and Kal Penn.
Writer/Director: Parker Finn

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Try telling non-horror types that the best horror films hold a mirror to society and/or humanity, and you’ll get some variation on “harrumph”. Horror movies exist to exploit and manipulate base fears, they’ll say; that most just use loud noises and fake blood to give thrill-seekers an in-the-moment cinematic sugar high; that a key role of horror films is to disengage the brain and tap the instinctual, not the intellectual.

Horror types know that sometimes that is true, and are hugely grateful for it, but that some really great horror films are also deeply insightful. Parker Finn’s SMILE has a foot strongly planted on both sides of the horror film divide, and emerges as one of the best of its kind in recent memory. You’ll shriek and shudder and cover your eyes, as the stylishly visual horrors unfold before you, but you’ll be drawn into the story of a woman facing off against an evil entity that metaphorically addresses the debilitating impact of depression and cyclical trauma.

A terrific Sosie Bacon plays psychotherapist Rose Cotter, a principled young woman who has foregone profitable private practice to offer aid to those in underfunded community mental health care. Her morning is upended when a frantic patient (Australia’s own Caitlin Stasey) starts screaming at her that she can’t escape people hideously grinning in her direction. One horribly bloody moment of self-harm later, Rose is now faced with nightmares of her own, as the toothy entity starts manifesting in the most terrifying ways possible.

The essence of writer/director Finn’s narrative is in Cotter’s backstory, which is revealed to be one rife with family trauma and untreated mother-daughter issues. In a lesser genre work, such undercurrents would be hinted at but then jettisoned in favour of the ghoulish byproduct of such sadness, but SMILE is a work that spells out very clearly the ties that bind the horrors of the past with the persons we are today. 

Specifically, it speaks to the shocking statistics that indicate suicide begats suicide; that those impacted by loved ones who kill themselves are then cursed to carry the burden of crippling, sometimes fatal, pain. 

Some may baulk at the use of severe mental health issues as the crux of a story that presents outwardly as a supernatural thriller. But genre fans know that horrors real and imagined can share the same space, and SMILE provides a smart, sad, shocking argument for their cause

BLONDE

Stars: Ana de Armas, Bobby Carnavale, Adrien Brody, Lily Fisher, Dan Butler, Xavier Samuel, Evan Williams and Julianne Nicholson.
Writer: Andrew Dominik, based upon the novel by Joyce Carroll Oates.
Director: Andrew Dominik

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Andrew Dominik has spent the best part of a decade writing his adaptation of Joyce Carroll Oates novel or, as she calls, fictional biography; a mighty 700+ pager that reinterpreted the real-world celebrity of Marilyn Monroe as a case study of abuse, mental torment and workplace exploitation. Hollywood and, in one of many shocking sequences, Washington DC, discovered a pliable public goddess figure in the industrially-crafted form of ‘Marilyn Monroe’, deciding early on that the impact upon the emotionally fragile woman that was Norma Jean Baker was inconsequential.

That is the version of the Monroe mythology that Dominik is undertaking in his bold, occasionally brilliant, sometimes infuriating 2.5 hour wallow in fame deconstruction. It is a film full of people who, like the American public since Monroe first appeared on screen in Don’t Bother to Knock, fall willingly and blindly in love with false idols. In tearing down the carefully manufactured facade that was ‘Marilyn Monroe’, he is also merciless in his depiction of baseball great Joe Di Maggio (Bobby Carnavale) and President JFK (Casper Phillipson), fellow icons of America’s golden post-war years.

Enduring the tortuous mental deterioration as Dominik’s Marilyn is Ana de Armas, and the actress is both entirely at one with her director’s vision and, more often than not, significantly better than it. While there are legitimate issues that one may have with Dominik’s style or structure or perceived intent, there can be no reservations as to the bravery and depth of character that de Armas demands of herself. Physically, she is as cinematically luminous as Monroe at her most photogenic, while also offering a stark portrayal of an emotionally incomplete and constantly deteriorating victim of lifelong abuse and loneliness.

The Marilyn Monroe biopic that captures her business acumen and comic timing and acting prowess, aspects of her life that critics have noted is absent from BLONDE, is another film entirely; Dominik’s wildly ambitious work is the story of what the American entertainment industry is willing to do to draw every last drop of humanity out of those it selects to exploit. It is a sad, bitter, horrible tale, which is not how those invested in her legend want to see Marilyn portrayed. But it is a version of her life that is as important in its telling as the perpetuation of her screen-goddess myth.

PINOCCHIO

Stars: Tom Hanks, Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, Benjamin Evan Ainsworth, Lorraine Bracco, Keegan-Michael Key, Giuseppe Battiston, Jaquita Ta'le and Luke Evans.
Writers: Robert Zemeckis, Chris Weitz. Based on "The Adventures of Pinocchio" by Carlo Collodi.
Director: Robert Zemeckis.

Rating: ★ ½

Pinocchio now represents two significantly symbolic lines in the sand for the Walt Disney company. In 1940, the cartoon (produced by Walt, but directed by a team of animators each assigned key sequences) landed in cinemas an instant classic; along with Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs, Dumbo, Fantasia, Cinderella, it represents the might of the Mouse House at the height of their creative commitment to wondrous, heartfelt movie magic.

In 2022, Pinocchio is not any of those things. Superficially, it is the latest live-action/CGI hybrid that the Disney boardroom have deemed an intellectual property up for a reboot; a legacy title that may be nearing its expiry date after 80 years stoking the commercial coffers of the studio, and that the money-men have decided needed a new coat of paint.

And the result, in line with most creative undertakings borne out of greed, is horrible. Directed by Robert Zemeckis (and more on him later), Pinocchio is a shockingly soulless, cynically constructed slab of modern streaming content. It is a monumental testament to bad creative decision-making and corporate shilling; from the moment the cuckoo clocks on the wall of Geppeto’s workshop chime, and a parade of Disney characters emerge, this travesty ironically abandons any pretence it will take on anything resembling human form.

Zemeckis draws on old mate Tom Hanks to play Gepetto, the latest character in his 2022 tour of weird accents (see also Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis). The pair are working together for the umpteenth time, hoping to recapture that Forrest Gump vibe but more often recalling The Polar Express in everything they do. Why Hanks bothers going full ‘old Italian’ is hard to fathom, as Joseph Gordon-Leavitt as an annoying Jiminy Cricket is all Louisiana drawl; Pinocchio himself, voiced by Benjamin Evan Ainsworth, sounds like Bobby Brady. Other casting is either focus-group driven (Cynthia Erivo as The Blue Fairy…is fine, I guess) or totally in line with memos from the boardroom (“Hey, Beauty and the Beast’s Luke Evans is still on the books, so find something for him…”).

And on Zemeckis? By my reckoning (and I’ve been a fan since his script for Spielberg’s 1941 and his 1980 directorial debut, Used Cars), there is no sadder figure amongst the top-tier Hollywood directing ranks. Having helmed four legit classics (Back to the Future; Forrest Gump; Who Framed Roger Rabbit?; Contact) and one black-comedy cult favourite (Death Becomes Her) that found the perfect balance between new Hollywood tech and storytelling, he has chased that dragon over and over. His unwavering fascination with the potential of filmmaking technology has resulted in an ambitious but irredeemably flawed series of films that favour gadgetry over humanity (Beowulf; The Polar Express; A Christmas Carol; The Walk). 

Pinocchio is his worst yet; the story of the boy who wants to be real becomes a contradictory, even cautionary tale about how bringing life to the lifeless can go terribly wrong.

SAMARITAN

Stars: Sylvester Stallone, Javon 'Wanna' Walton, Pilou Asbæk, Dascha Polanco, Sophia Tatum, Martin Starr, Moises Arias and Jared Odrick.
Writer: Bragi F. Schut
Director: Julius Avery.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Sylvester Stallone looks great for his age, and Aussie director Julius Avery is an exciting visualist who uses framing and colour in a way that recalls Todd Phillip’s Joker, but in every other respect Samaritan is a pretty rote fallen super-hero adventure that was bound for the big-screen but feels about right as a streaming debut.

Sly plays Joe, a garbo on the dirty streets of dank metropolis Granite City, desperate to remain in the shadows of whatever anonymous life he can make for himself. But he shares an apartment complex with pesky brat Sam Cleary (a pretty good Javon Walton), who is becoming increasingly convinced Joe is, in fact, the once-mighty superhero Samaritan, a legendary figure whose was forced out of the masked, cape-wearing lifestyle after a reputation-ruining family incident with his evil brother, Nemesis.

The two are thrown together eventually over shared adversary Cyrus (Game of Thrones’ Pilou Asbæk), the stereotypically snarling local ganglord who yearns to be the bad-ass bad-guy that Nemesis once was. From here on in, the story mostly writes itself - Sam becomes leverage; Joe is drawn out of hiding; Joe, Sam and Cyrus face-off in a fiery climax. It’s all Superhero Bluster 101, sometimes recalling Arnie’s The Last Action Hero minus the ironic laughs, with a few genre staples (Sophia Tatum’s cold-blooded, smokin’-hot killer, Sil; Martin Starr’s bookstore-owner/exposition portal, Albert) in the mix.

Avery has a great film in him, waiting to break out; if you believe some corners of the internet, it already happened with 2018’s bloody WWII-horror romp, Overlord. And it might have also been Samaritan at some point, as there is some social-commentary material in its DNA that addresses rich-vs-poor inequality and family legacy. But that all fails to materialise, with the production favouring loud-and-fast over character and nuance. Which’ll be fine for some, but represents a missed opportunity for others.

THE MAGICAL CRAFTSMANSHIP OF SUZHOU

Director: Zengtian Sun

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Centuries of unparalleled commitment to a life of artistry and beauty are honoured with warmth and precision by director Zengtian Sun in the captivating documentary, The Magical Craftsmanship of Suzhou. The story of the city of Suzhou in the southern Jiangsu province of Eastern China is rich with the gifted and dedicated exponents of their chosen skill, and this breathtakingly lovely profile of a modern city embracing and honouring the artisans of their past is a fitting testament.

 The region is home to the most celebrated of all Chinese arts and crafts, works that are cherished both locally, by a population who recognise the wisdom and skill of the old practitioners, and internationally, where the one-off designs and unmatched elegance is big business. However, the filmmakers only fleetingly touch on how far the influence of Suzhou has impacted global commercial markets, instead focussing on how generations of intellectual and artistic enrichment have led to a prosperous modern metropolis.

After a brief prologue that enlightens us to the exalted status of the Suzhou craftsperson as seen through the eyes of a young boy, we are introduced to the artificer community in the form of 75 year-old Wang Xiawen, a master of lantern design for over 50 years, who is overseeing his small team on the eve of one of the city’s renown lantern festivals. 

What follows are extraordinary scenes of masterful artistry across several disciplines - Zhou Jianming, whose steady hand and exact eye has helped his olive-pit carvings become prestige items; the tiny culinary creations of the boat snack chefs; the women who maintain the traditions of Song Brocade silk weaving and embroidery; the furniture makers who turn centuries-old red sandalwood into Ming-style contemporary pieces.

As the documentary points out, the defining traditions of Suzhou combine, “the ingenuity of the literati and the dexterity of the craftsmen,” resulting in a people who, “will never compromise on the quality of life.” Zengtian Sun’s The Magical Craftsmanship of Suzhou embodies the same qualities - a work that revels in the history, refinement and majesty of one of the world’s truly unique city experiences.

RESIDENT EVIL

Stars: Ella Balinski, Lance Reddick, Tamara Smart, Sienna Agudong, Adeline Rudolph and Paola Núñez.
Writers: Andrew Dabb, Garett Pereda, Shane Tortolani, Jeff Howard, Kerry Williamson and Lindsey Villarreal.
Director: Bronwen Hughes, Rachel Goldburg, Batan Silva and Rob Seidenglanz.

8 episodes to stream on Netflix from July 14, 2022

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The RESIDENT EVIL franchise is proving harder to kill-off than one of its own cannibalistic T-virus infected bad-guys (or girls, or dogs, or whatever). Since CAPCOM launched the first Playstation video game version in 1996, it has been a blockbuster - since its inception, no less than 31 versions have been released on gaming platforms, making it the most successful horror gaming series of all time. The seven live-action films, six of which starred Milla Jovovich, have grossed over a billion dollars, making it the most successful film series based on a videogame ever. This is before you add in graphic novels, animated films and TV shows, merchandise and, I shit you not, live theatre productions, of which there have been three in Japan since 2000.

Such hot-property legacy IP means that Netflix and their safe-bet programming strategy couldn’t be far behind. They dipped their toes in the Resident Evil waters with last years’ CGI-series Infinite Darkness and have now gone all in with this new 8-episode arc, boldly calling itself simply ‘Resident Evil’, suggesting this is the new and defining narrative for the brand. With zombies or zombie-adjacent types having bought in big bucks for streamers in recent years, it’s seems only fair that the starting point for the re-animation of the undead as legit pop-culture iconography shouldn’t enjoy the spoils - without Resident Evil, there’d be no Walking Dead or 28 Days Later or World War Z, so good luck to all involved.

But does this fresh spin on the mythology of New Raccoon City and the spread of the T-virus earn its own stripes, under the showrunning of Supernatural alumni Andrew Dabb? He takes the potentially risky step of splitting his story into two distinct timelines - the first, a future-set dystopian vision where 6 billion infected roam the Earth and freehold outposts provide shelter for the uninfected (a bit like in Mad Max 2). British actress Ella Balinski plays Jade Wesker, a lone figure monitoring the herd actions of the infected, until she is knocked unconscious by a monster caterpillar (yeah, in this Resident Evil, there are monster caterpillars!) and becomes collateral for the nomads to barter with the evil Umbrella Corporation.

Storyline #2 is not quite so ambitious, or compelling; it is 2022, and teen Jade (now played by Tamara Smart) and her sister Billie (Sienna Agudong) have relocated to the oh-so-white suburbia that is the pre-T-virus outbreak New Raccoon City. Their emotionally-absent father is Umbrella bigwig Albert Wesker (a typically compelling Lance Reddick), who is struggling to raise the two girls, who struggle with their own PTSD moments from the life they’ve left behind. An animal rescue attempt, during which Jade and Billie gain (surprisingly easy) access to the Umbrella labs, starts to align the two story strands.

The intercutting of the present and future plotting is handled skilfully, even if the high stakes of 2036 Jade’s undead-infested existence and the teen beats of 2022 Jade’s high-school/homelife world seem initially mismatched. Corporate horrors and homeroom villainy find a surprisingly satisfying balance. Those in for the traditional Resident Evil thrills will be happy to know zombie dogs turn up in Episode 1, and that the infected are shriekers, not shufflers. Balinski, who was so good in the recent Charlie’s Angels reboot it was like she was in a different film entirely, is great as a hard-edged action heroine.

As a refresh of the Resident Evil mythology, the series exhibits a strong pulse…

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPEN

Stars: Mark Rylance, Sally Hawkins, Rhys Ifans, Christian Lees, Jonah Lees and Jake Davies
Writer: Simon Farnaby
Director: Craig Roberts

Rating: ★ ½

The Phantom of the Open is based upon the true story of Maurice Flitcroft, a factory worker who offset the anxiety of his impending retrenchment by acting on a whim - he liked the look of golf on the tele, so he filled out the entry form and somehow managed to gain a spot in The 1976 British Open Golf Qualifying Round. Of course, having never played the game, he shot the worst round in Open history, yet became a folk hero in the process.

These ‘sports underdogs’ stories have a long and rich film history, the best of their kind being pics like the 1979 cycling drama Breaking Away or the 1993 bobsled comedy Cool Runnings, but Phantom of The Open isn’t really like those films. Sure, it’s got sport in it - the cinematically-challenging spectacle of golf - but those films identified with and seemed to actually like their heroes. But Phantom of The Open feels like a piss-take, a shot at both this dippy, working-class dolt and the establishment he snuck one pass to become a national laughing stock.

No, Phantom of The Open is more like another film I hate, the 1997 Australian film The Castle. Both base their “comedy” upon the premise that you have to be a bit dim to stick to your working class morals in the face of modern society, and it's a bloody hilarious miracle if by doing so, you get the outcome you’re hoping for. The Castle turned working class Australians into idiots and then conned us into laughing along at them, and Phantom of The Open tries to pull off the same schtick.

It is also no surprise that Phantom of The Open is written by one Simon Farnaby, whose script for Paddington 2 earned him a BAFTA nomination (wtf?). In Mark Rylance’s terribly mannered, vaguely condescending performance as Flitcroft, you have what is essentially a cartoon figure, like Paddington, trying to cope with the real world around him and the real world deciding to laugh along at his buffoonery.

Actor-turned-director Craig Roberts pumps up his Forrest-Gump-on-the-fairways story with period-appropriate add-ons, succumbing to the cinematic feel-good shorthand that disco hits and flared trousers provide. It’s all so shallow and flash-in-the-pan as to suggest there wasn’t that much to Flitcroft’s achievements or, in Rylance’s one-note portrayal, the man himself, in the first place.

HUSTLE

Stars: Adam Sandler, Queen Latifah, Juancho Hernangómez, Ben Foster, Kenny Smith, Anthony Edwards, Jordan Hull, Maria Botto, Ainhoa Pillet, Raul Castillo, Jaleel White, Heidi Gardner and Robert Duvall.
Writers: Will Fetters and Taylor Materne.
Director: Jeremiah Zagar

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Adam Sandler finds a winning balance between his ‘comedy sports guy’ bit and the dramatic leading man potential he displayed in Uncut Gems with his new Netflix movie, Hustle. He plays ageing NBA talent scout Stan Sugarman, a 30-year veteran of chasing leads to sign basketball’s next big thing. His mentor, Philadelphia 76ers owner Rex Merrick (the legend Robert Duvall) ups him to assistant coach for his dedicated service, but when ownership shifts to his son, Vin (Ben Foster), old conflicts see Stan punted back into the scouting game with the added pressure of finding that championship-winning rookie every club yearns for.

Stan may have found his next NBA great in the housing projects of Spain - a natural talent called Bo Cruz (Juancho Hernangómez, real-life Utah Jazz recruit and a member of the Spanish national team). He’s a true wild card, with a history and temper to match, But together, and with a little help from a cast drafted from the NBA ranks and featuring names like Seth Curry, Trae Young and Jordan Clarkson - Stan and Bo can build a partnership that ought to take them to the top of the toughest basketball league in the world.

Director Jeremiah Zagar and his writers Taylor Materne and Will Fetters do exactly what they need to do to turn the standard sports drama template into the crowd pleaser they deliver. Take a coupla of down-on-their luck outsiders, have them set goals for themselves that’ll make them strive to be better and punch out an ending that ensures they deliver above and beyond their new self-belief.

Zagar and his ace cinematographer Zak Mulligan give the game play some super immersive energy, while support players like Queen Latifah as Stan’s super-supportive wife and ex-SNL player Heidi Gardner as the more likable Merrick offspring bring the right pitch.

But it’s all about Sandler, who’s in every scene and who flushes out depth and character in his shuffling, shrugging Sugarman like he was born into the part; there’s both Walter Matthau’s exasperation with life and Jack Lemmon’s understated desperation in Sandler’s performance. Oscar loves this sort of performance - the clown who finds a place in the real world (think Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society or Good Morning Vietnam). Sandler pulls up just shy of riffing on Burgess Meredith’s classic trainer archetype ‘Mickey’ in the Rocky films, but the temptation must have been strong (they are shooting on the streets of Philly, after all!) 

While the narrative has that faint whiff of “seen-it-before”-ness about it, Hustle fits in alongside such hoop classics as Hoosiers (1986) and Coach Carter (2005) as simply structured stories that find their vibrancy in fresh perspectives, honest emotions, great performances and boundless energy.

JURASSIC WORLD DOMINION

Stars: Chris Pratt, Sam Neill, Laura Dern, Bryce Dallas Howard, Isabella Sermon, Jeff Goldblum, Campbell Scott, DeWanda Wise, Mamoudou Athie, Omar Sy, BD Wong, Dichen Lachman and Justice Jesse Smith.
Writers: Colin Trevorrow and Emily Carmichael; from a story by Derek Connelly and Colin Trevorrow; based on characters created by Michael Crichton.
Director: Colin Trevorrow

Rating: ★ ½

Aside from a fleeting diversion to the Bering Sea, where a deep sea monster balances out the oceanic life ledger by sinking a fishing trawler, the sixth Jurassic franchise film opens in a faux 4:3 ratio. This allows for a montage of evening news clips and CNN types talking about how hard it’s become to live with dinosaurs since they integrated themselves into human society, a promise of things to come that we glimpsed at the end of 2018’s Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (who names these films??). 

The audience, rightfully expecting an opening that sets hearts pounding from frame 1 (like what Steven Spielberg did with some ferns and a bunch of guys in hi-vis helmets, back in ‘93), is instead napalmed with information concerning the industrialization of genetic science and the government agency controlling the increasingly dangerous problem and blah, blah, blah. It is a clumsy, crappy opening to a summer blockbuster, but it sure sets the tone for the 150 minutes to follow.

Director Colin Trevorrow, once thought the man to forge a new path for all things JP, then segues his already convoluted narrative into, of all things, a big bug movie; genetically mutated locusts, as large and disgusting as house cats, are destroying crops all across America, except those planted by ‘Big Farmer’ conglom BioSyn, a Monsanto-like corporation with designs on global food sector domination. It’s an early bit of stupid plotting (how long before investigators establish that link?), but is by no means the most egregious, indicating Trevorrow and co-writer Emily Carmichael are happy to jettison logic in favour of maintaining momentum.

The problem that faces the writing pair, however, is the number of characters they are going to have to juggle to keep us invested in if they want to see out the film’s hook - uniting the key cast members from both iterations of the Jurassic film eras in a trilogy-encapsulating final chapter. Paleobotanist Ellie Satler (Laura Dern) is called upon to bust open the bug conspiracy, providing an entry point for OG everyman hero Alan Grant (Sam Neill). Dr Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum) has let his ethical firewall slide in the intervening years; he’s now consulting for CEO Lewis Dodgson (Campbell Scott, a fitting physical appropriation for the original “Dodgson!”, Cameron Thor), allowing Ellie and Alan passage into the villainous hi-tech BioSyn lair.

Of the Jurassic World ensemble, we are reunited with dino-whisperer Owen Grady (Chris Pratt, bringing his patented ‘ironic blandness’ in spades) and Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard), now guardians for mopey teen DNA fleshpod, Maisie Lockwood (Isabella Sermon). They live in the woods, sharing the wilderness, often uncomfortably with raptor heroine ‘Blue,’ who has ‘found a way’ to have a calf, called ‘Beta’. When kidnappers take Beta (for her black market value) and Maisie (for her bridging DNA strands), Owen and Claire enlist the aid of JW#1 callback Barry Sembene (Omar Sy), now a French undercover agent, to get them access to Malta's thriving, illegal underground dinosaur marketplace.

Is anyone still reading this? Because it’s exhausting to recall and boring to write, and I still haven’t got to DeWanda Wise’s tough-talking mercenary pilot Kayla Watts; Mamoudou Athie’s naive corporate shill, Ramsay Cole; Dichen Lachman’s cold-hearted black marketeer Soyona Santos, whose chilly, OTT glamour seems more suited to Bond villainy; or an insufferably mopey B.D. Wong, returning to the fold as original JP geneticist, Dr Henry Wu. Worse still, the script allows each support player feeble and time-consuming character arcs and earnest dialogue; at one point, I turned to my equally-dejected movie mate and said, “I wish everyone in this film would just shut up!” 

It is at this juncture that you have every right to ask, “Uh, we are going to have some dinosaurs…in your…in your dinosaur movie review? Hello?”, given that it was exactly the question I whispered to myself as the mighty beasts of prehistory found themselves being shunted into the background of their own film series. New species turn up, including an impressive beast called Giganotosaurus (“The biggest carnivore that ever lived,” says Dr Grant, in one of many ‘Golly Gee!’ dog-whistle moments for the franchise-primed target audience), but Trevorrow mostly just drops them into the path of our heroes, who dodge them with scant regard for their status as ‘alpha predators’. 

This seemingly endless parade of hoops through which to jump is a built-in reference to the plot machinations of the series that demands our heroes travel from point A to point B, dino-dodging the whole time. But even in the much-maligned Jurassic Park III (finally casting off its ‘Worst of the Franchise’ tag), the protagonist’s trek held some degree of menace, some ‘imminent threat’ element that provided an often very basic but undeniable tension and sense of adventure. That never manifests in Jurassic World: Dominion, a bloated 2½ hour plod that is unforgivably dull and irreconcilably misjudged.