"If there is one thing the history of evolution has taught us it's that life will not be contained. Life breaks free, expands to new territories, and crashes through barriers, painfully, maybe even dangerously..."
- Jurassic Park (1993)
In October of the year 1990, the Human Genome Project began mapping the DNA building blocks of humankind, and a new era of genetic science was upon us.
As had been the case with the atom bomb in 1940s and 1950s genre cinema, this dawning chapter in man’s scientific understanding was quickly recognized by intrepid Hollywood filmmakers, and immediately recruited as a template for new silver-screen initiatives.
Specifically, the “science run amok” horror and sci-fi
films of the 1990s -- much like their “don’t tamper in God’s domain”
predecessors (Them! [1954] for instance) -- explicitly concerned the idea of
a new Pandora’s Box being wantonly and recklessly opened.
And once opened, that
box could not be closed…or at least not easily
closed.
Thus genre cinema gave
the world such DNA-based horrors as The Island of Dr. Moreau (1996), Mimic (1997) and Deep Blue Sea (1999). The biggest blockbuster of this brand,
however, was undoubtedly Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park (1993), a
work based upon the best-selling 1990 novel by Michael Crichton.
According to critic Malcolm W. Brown in his New York Times article “In New Spielberg Film, a Dim View of Science,” – Jurassic Park “revived” the image of Frankenstein in terms of “amoral scientists unleashing forces they can’t control.”
According to critic Malcolm W. Brown in his New York Times article “In New Spielberg Film, a Dim View of Science,” – Jurassic Park “revived” the image of Frankenstein in terms of “amoral scientists unleashing forces they can’t control.”
Furthermore, Brown concluded, the film featured an “anti-science message.”
In terms of Jurassic Park’s thematic DNA, the “science run amok” conceit was indeed powerfully vetted, and, yes, it concerned scientists unleashing forces they weren’t able to control.
Yet the message of the film wasn’t necessarily so much anti-science as pro-responsibility. The scientists who created the dinosaurs in the film did so explicitly for profit, and because technology made it possible. In other words, they went climbing a dangerous mountain…because it was there.
By unleashing the “most awesome force this planet has ever seen”
-- namely genetics – the scientists featured in Jurassic Park failed to
respect and heed nature itself, much as Brown’s critique suggests. But what the Spielberg film actually seemed
to seek was not a total curtailing of scientific progress, but rather some
sense of modesty and judiciousness on the parts of those who chose to tamper in
God’s domain. Janet Maslin got it
exactly right in her review, noting that Jurassic Park involves “both
the possibilities and the evils of modern science.”
Indeed, it would have been
remarkably hypocritical for Jurassic Park to eschew science and progress
entirely, since the film itself exists, primarily, because of advancements in
technology, particularly the new special effects breakthrough of computer
generated imagery.
The film thus owes much of its power, even to this day, to its breathtaking dinosaur specimens. These “living biological attractions” move and roar and rage with a sense of realism previously unseen in the cinema. The dinosaurs in the film even seem to boast personalities or specific characteristics, from the nobility of the T-Rex to the cunning, cold intelligence of the Velociraptors. For all intents and purposes, our eyes register these creatures as "alive" and no bad effects exist to undercut that accomplishment.
The film thus owes much of its power, even to this day, to its breathtaking dinosaur specimens. These “living biological attractions” move and roar and rage with a sense of realism previously unseen in the cinema. The dinosaurs in the film even seem to boast personalities or specific characteristics, from the nobility of the T-Rex to the cunning, cold intelligence of the Velociraptors. For all intents and purposes, our eyes register these creatures as "alive" and no bad effects exist to undercut that accomplishment.
More to the point, perhaps, the idea underlying Jurassic
Park is that “life will find a
way,” and that if man chooses to play God by creating new life, he must also
possess the modesty to understand that he cannot control that life, once he
sets it in motion. Science even boasts a champion in the film, after a fashion, in the voice of "rock star" mathematician Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum), who hunts for some sign of restraint or modesty from the geneticists, but finds none. His view of the world -- Chaos Theory -- provides the key to understanding Jurassic Park the amusement park and Jurassic Park, the film.
I often write here on the blog, and in my books, about how a film's visual form should reflect or mirror the content. I consider this the highest value of the art: revealing to us in images a reflection of the film's theme or meaning.
I admire Jurassic Park so much because Spielberg understands this dynamic perfectly. Many compositions in the film as imagined by the director showcase the idea of technology as the "monster" to be reckoned with. Since the film concerns the dangers of relying on technology without first judging technology in terms of how it affects the surrounding landscape, this approach is appropriate.
But lest this approach sound preachy or heavy-handed, Spielberg leavens Crichton’s jargon-laden narrative – one highly reminiscent of Westworld (1973) – with large dollops of visual humor and roller-coaster ride tension.
I admire Jurassic Park so much because Spielberg understands this dynamic perfectly. Many compositions in the film as imagined by the director showcase the idea of technology as the "monster" to be reckoned with. Since the film concerns the dangers of relying on technology without first judging technology in terms of how it affects the surrounding landscape, this approach is appropriate.
But lest this approach sound preachy or heavy-handed, Spielberg leavens Crichton’s jargon-laden narrative – one highly reminiscent of Westworld (1973) – with large dollops of visual humor and roller-coaster ride tension.
In short, for all its
debate over modern science, Jurassic Park remains a great
entertainment: a thrilling, action-packed movie that, while never quite possessing the same cutthroat mentality as the book, nonetheless boasts some unbelievably
suspenseful moments. The T-Rex attack on
a tour caravan by night and the hunting of two children in a kitchen by a tag-team of Velociraptors leap to mind in this regard.
These scenes retain surprising power, more than twenty years after the film was released. The powerful idea underneath those images is quite resonant: what if man "recreates" with science a being with the power to usurp him, to replace him on the food chain? The T-Rex attack, and especially the Velociraptor hunt remind us that except by a quirk of destiny, dinosaurs may have "ruled the world."
Is man so foolish and imprudent a creature that he could undo that favorable destiny, even after God "selected" dinosaurs for extinction?
These scenes retain surprising power, more than twenty years after the film was released. The powerful idea underneath those images is quite resonant: what if man "recreates" with science a being with the power to usurp him, to replace him on the food chain? The T-Rex attack, and especially the Velociraptor hunt remind us that except by a quirk of destiny, dinosaurs may have "ruled the world."
Is man so foolish and imprudent a creature that he could undo that favorable destiny, even after God "selected" dinosaurs for extinction?
“Creation is an act of
sheer will.”
On Isla Nublar, an island close to Costa Rica, InGen CEO John Hammond (Richard Attenborough) has harnessed cloning technology and genetic engineering to create a new breed of dinosaurs.
Utilizing dinosaur DNA found in mosquito corpses trapped in amber -- and filling in the sequence gaps with frog DNA -- Hammond has brought back to life specimens including a T-Rex, triceratops, brachiosaurus, and even the pack-hunting velociraptors.
Now, Hammond wants to
share his discovery with the world at large, and to that end has created an
amusement park for the wealthy, Jurassic Park, where visitors can pay to see
the extinct species. However, an accident
involving a Velociraptor and the death of a park worker instigates investor
concerns about the safety of the park. Hammond now
needs experts to sign off on the park for his lawyer, Gennaro (Martin Ferrero), and he recruits paleontologist
Alan Grant (Sam Neill), paleobotanist Ellie Sattler (Larua Dern) and
mathematics expert and chaotician Ian Malcolm (Jeff Goldblum).
These
experts are joined at the park by Hammond’s grandchildren, Tim (Joseph Mazzell)
and Lex (Ariana Richards), but the first tour goes badly when a high-tech saboteur,
Nedry (Wayne Knight) de-activates the park’s safety systems in hopes of
stealing trade secrets. The dinosaurs,
including the T-Rex, escape their paddocks as a dangerous storm washes across
the island
While
Dr. Grant, Tim and Lex attempt to stay alive in the wild park, the others work to
re-boot Jurassic Park’s computer systems, a task which is made exponentially more
difficult by the fact that the clever – and merciless – velociraptors are now
free to hunt.
“You think they'll have that on the tour?”
From Jurassic
Park’s opening scene, director Steven Spielberg reveals his penchant
for visual humor, but importantly, visual
humor that buttresses or reflects the movie’s theme.
As the film opens, for example, we see a
group of nervous, armed men standing in a nighttime jungle. From their
expressions, we know that they now face grave danger. The film then cuts
to shots of trees rustling, and leaves swaying as something unseen moves through
the shadowy foliage at a high altitude.
Importantly, this is a shot that, if you
boast any familiarity with monster movies, is quite commonplace.
You’ll see it in Guillermin’s King Kong (1977), for instance, just as
Kong is about to appear for the first time and take Dwan (Jessica
Lange). It’s the trademark moment when the monster is about to be
revealed, standing high above man, coming into a clearing for his first
close-up, essentially.
And yet what emerges from the jungle in Jurassic Park is not a biological monster or beast,
as we would expect. Instead, it’s a man-made machine -- a dinosaur paddock or container -- on a crane. This shot is our
first indication that the dinosaurs are not the true monsters of Jurassic Park.
Rather, that honor goes to technology or science that has been allowed to run
amok.
This leitmotif is carried on throughout
the film, in a variety of ways. The protagonist, Alan Grant, for example,
is a proud technophobe. “I
hate computers,” he announces early on, and this point of view is
reinforced by his experiences on the island. When Alan is on the
amusement park tour, for instance, the computers don’t fail, but the electrified fences do,
meaning that dinosaurs are free to escape and endanger him. He is
constantly, throughout the narrative, being imperiled by products of
technology, from DNA-enhanced dinosaurs to failed security systems.
Also, during the height of the film’s
climactic action, a Velociraptor jumps up on a table in a control room, and bright images from a computer
monitor are reflected upon its face. Superimposed over the
dinosaur’s visage, specifically, are the letters representing DNA code: A, C, T, and G.
This shot expresses well the nature of the dinosaur: he's man made; science made.
Once more, the message is clearly that
these dinosaurs are not the source of the danger themselves, but that the unrestrained, irresponsible
science that created them represents the true menace. I must admit
that I deeply love this particular composition (pictured at the top of the
review), because it declares in one still what Jurassic Park concerns: danger created by
overreaching science. You can't blame the animals for being what they
are; but you can blame amoral science for bringing these dinosaurs back into
the mix.
Genetic science isn't the only kind of
"progress" that gets tweaked in this Spielberg film. In
short order, Jurassic Park invites us to peer and gawk at
virtual reality gloves, CD roms, driver-less cars and night goggles,
even. The idea seems to be that -- at
the time of the film -- we
were on the verge of taking a giant step forward in terms of our understanding
and application of technology. We were either going to go forward
responsibly and carefully, or chase recklessly behind our science, “just
racing to catch up,” as Alan Grant worriedly notes. Again, it should
be noted that this thematic through-line needn’t be seen as being merely
anti-science, rather one in favor of the notion that human morality should
dictate our scientific investigations. We must control our tools, not let
them control us.
"Spared no expense,"
Hammond's near-constant refrain isn't a statement of morality, after all. It's
a statement noting that all available resources were utilized. Thought
was not given as to whether they should have been utilized on this endeavor in
the first place.
Still, Hammond in the film, a man much
softer and friendlier than his counterpart in the novel, boasts good intentions
regarding his amusement park. Although yes, he wants to make money, what
he seeks more deeply is the respect of his audience. After starting out
creating “flea circuses,” he feels desperate to create an attraction with
inherent value or merit, hence the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park. But
Hammond has allowed his own insecurities to take over his good sense. He has
let his desire to please others short-circuit his sense of moral
responsibility. Finally, even he can't endorse his own park.
If "creation is a sheer act of
will," as Jurassic
Park suggests, then one
must pose two additional questions. First: whose will, in particular,
stands behind the act of creation? And secondly, what is driving that
sheer act of will? Insecurity?
Avarice? If human failings stand at the need to push scientific
boundaries to their limits, then we’re all bound for a lot of trouble. As
James Spence wrote in his essay, “What’s Wrong with Cloning a Dinosaur,” human
beings boast a “limited capacity to control our own technological
innovations.”
That's okay, so long as we are mindful of
it, and take precautions, I suppose.
All of this dialogue about scientific
responsibility might have come across as pretentious in the hands of a lesser
director. And indeed, one on-the-nose scene with Hammond and Sattler discussing
the dangers of the park does play very much that way, and should have been cut
back radically.
But for the most part, Spielberg plays
lightly with the film's premise, and incorporates a number of visual
jokes.
One of the funniest, by my estimation,
occurs as Lex -- sitting in the cafeteria -- spots a Velociraptor on
approach. She turns to jello, literally, even as she holds a spoon of
green jello in her hand.
The girl and the jello both begin to
jiggle at the same time.
The film’s action scenes, furthermore,
appear inspired wholly by Chaos Theory. Events seem to spiral out of
control, with each
random event causing increasingly dangerously and random results.
Alan rescues little Tim from a car lodged in a tree, for
example. They escape the car and the tree, but then the car falls to the
ground…over and above them, and they barely survive. “Here we are…back
in the car,” Tim says, and the line is funny because the moment seems
unpredictable and spontaneous. So many moments in Jurassic Park actually play that way, with
spontaneous incidents generating chaos and disaster.
Another great in-joke involves a T-rex
chasing a car in motion. We see the dinosaur’s toothy mouth open wide,
filling the screen. Right beneath it reads the legend: “objects in
mirror are closer than they appear.” In some way, this is another
lesson about the danger of technology: it can sometimes distance us from that
which is menacing...and close-by.
All these witty moments suggest to me that
Spielberg had a great deal of fun making Jurassic
Park, perhaps because in terms of the heavy lifting, he had a good
template in the script by Crichton and Koepp. The script was solid enough
that Spielberg could direct his energy towards creating sharp-as-nail visuals,
ones that actively reflected the content, and even had some fun with
it.
“How’d
you do this?”
Why does Jurassic
Park hold such a powerful
grip on our imagination and affection, even after twenty-five years?
For me, I know it’s not just Steven
Spielberg’s sense of directorial humor, or even the message about morality
guiding scientific progress.
No, it’s the dinosaurs themselves.
I realize this isn’t true for younger
generations, but I grew up during an era when dinosaurs on film invariably
disappointed. They never looked quite real. Sometimes they
appeared...laughable. They never seemed to move with authenticity, or
with the grace and majesty I knew they really, really should possess.
That all changed with Jurassic Park. When a gorgeous, majestic Brachiosaurus
lumbers across the screen at approximately the 20-minute point in this
Spielberg film, the secret dream of all dinosaur-lovers is potently
fulfilled. You feel as if you are seeing a real, living, breathing creature, not an over-sized lizard projected
over a miniature landscape, or a man in a suit. No, you are seeing the regal dinosaur as
it was meant to be seen.
I still recall the first time I saw that
Brachiosaurus scene in Jurassic
Park. It brought a
tear to my eye. In
rendering the dinosaurs so beautifully, so nobly, so wondrously, this film understood my unspoken dream
as a dino-loving child. One I’d forgotten I’d ever even had, at that
point. There’s just something so glorious, so right about the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park, especially in conjunction with John
Williams’ rapturous score.
For me, this movie felt like a destiny
fulfilled, somehow.
Because there is not an ounce of phoniness
in their physicality, Jurassic
Park truly awes. I
don’t want to lavish all the credit to the CGI, either. Special effects
genius Stan Winston (1946 – 2008) created animatronic, life-sized replicas of
many dinosaurs and controlled them using cable actuation, rod-puppets, cranes,
radio control, hydraulics and whatever else could sell a scene
effectively.
Amazingly, Winston’s mechanical creations
blend perfectly with the digital creations of Phil Tippet and Dennis Muren at
ILM so that we believe, truly, dinosaurs walk the Earth again.
This idea also gets dramatic visual punctuation in the film.
There's the valedictory image of a real life T-Rex occupying the former
space of a T-Rex skeleton, as a banner reading "When Dinosaurs Ruled
the Earth" flutters before him.
In short, this is a magnificent passing of
the baton, as though a new generation of special effects are supplanting the
skeletons of the old one. Certainly, these dinosaurs ruled the box
office in 1993. And given their outstanding appearance, justifiably so.
When I think of Jurassic
Park, I think of a tense, funny, intelligent film about "living
biological attracts so astounding" that they indeed captured the
"imagination of the entire planet."
For those of us who wondered after Hook (1991) if Steven Spielberg still
had it in him to re-capture the magic of Close
Encounters, or Raiders
of the Lost Ark, Jurassic
Park was our rather
definitive answer, and the beginning of a beloved movie franchise to boot.
I still can't put my finger as to why can watch the original Jurassic Park and totally accept the existence of the various dinosaurs in nearly every scene they appear in. I haven't had the same reaction to nearly every other film that features CGI creatures including all the Jurassic Park sequels (though Gollum and moments in the latest Planet Of The Apes films come close).
ReplyDeleteIs my reaction purely nostalgic? Was it the quality of the animation (due in large part to Phil Tippet's involvement)? Was it the quality of the lighting and compositing? Was it that Spielberg's enthusiasm for the film showed through in ways that the first sequel did not?
I remain impressed that I can suspend my disbelief every time I watch the first Jurassic Park film in a way that I can't in nearly every other film I've seen since. I wish I could put my finger on what it is that I'm missing in my reaction to other films of this type.