Welcome back to my Jurassic City evisceration review! Last we saw, an evil corporation led by Suit the Book Hammond expy was building dinosaurs, and a raptor attacked a dude and got shot. Meanwhile, our heroine Feminist Face was about to pledge the worst sorority ever when the cops showed up. Oh no! Drama! 
The cop’s hand doesn’t even touch the door when she knocks and Sorority Chick still answers the door. I just thought that was worth noting.
So the cops are killjoys for a little bit and the sorority party has to evacuate. Then we see some more military dudes from Suit’s corporation out on some sort of presumably dinosaur-related mission. And boy, I have to say I really admire this movie’s dedication to ripping off Jurassic World. It’s truly fantastic. I saw a documentary somewhere about a couple of little kids who recreated Raiders of the Lost Ark shot-for-shot, and even they didn’t put in nearly as much effort towards copying a movie as this movie did. They’ve got mostly-blue technology, military troopers specifically used for asset containment, stern military guys who go into control rooms and prophesy about the power of raptors—heck, I don’t think any of those things were even shown to be part of JW until this movie was in post-production. This might not be a crap movie; this might actually be the first and greatest Jurassic World fan film in existence.
Anyway, they Skype Suit and he tells them to go to a ‘secret holding location’ inside a jail. I don’t know why you’d want to keep a bunch of dangerous dinosaurs in a place like a public prison, where people inside can pick a lock with half an inch of underwear elastic and a Cheeto. Actually, I can think of one reason to keep a lethal dinosaur inside a prison, but I don’t recall this movie being set in Texas.
Aaaaand a little bit after a guy got mauled by one of the things, they’ve got a raptor in the truck. Those guys must have really, really good dental plans if they’ve stayed that long with Criminal Neglect Inc. The two sorority girls, drunk as skunks, crash their car with the temperate and sober Feminist Face in tow. And then they get sent to jail. I got 2 to 1 odds it’s the same prison they’re keeping the dinosaurs in. 2 to 1, 2 to 1, can’t miss this offer, take yer bets now!
Meanwhile, a different white guy in a suit makes a call about some “…guests” arriving soon and then watches a TV news report about a guy who raped and murdered several nurses getting captured at last. Rape is not okay ever, but if he killed the nurses from Silent Hill, he should be given a Presidential Medal of Honor. The guy’s name is Doyle McMartin or something, but he has the facial hair of every type of man your mother ever warned you about, so we’ll call him Beardo.
He gets interrogated by a guy that seems generally even worse to be around than the rapist and murderer in the room with him.
No you’re not. You’re what results when Christian Bale in American Psycho and a possessed ventriloquist dummy have a kid with a marijuana problem.
Fun fact: if your movie tells viewers that someone is a despicable, eeeeeviillll criminal and then make him do nothing at all on screen to make us hate him—and even show him getting berated by Slappy Bale while quietly sitting there and not arguing—we have no reason to feel that this character is bad. We feel sympathetic towards him because what was supposed to make us hate him was told, not shown. If we’re supposed to have a visceral hate reaction whenever we see the guy– which I assume we’re supposed to and the director wanted, given the thoroughly stereotypical archetypes of characters that movies primarily about monsters attacking bad guys require– then make us hate the guy as soon as we see him. If you want your viewers to immediately associate someone with, “Ooooh, I hate him,” make us.
In response to the question, “where are the bodies buried?”, Beardo says that Slappy should “use the magic word.” Watch out guys, we’ve got a full-on Hannibal Lecter on our hands here. Also, the death penalty is indeed an option here, which is odd because this is set in California, otherwise known as the world’s biggest amusement park for liberals. Just in case you were in danger of thinking this movie about party girls and ballistic velociraptors was realistic.
This guy really, really can’t act. I’ve seen kids from the drama department at my local middle school convey more convincing emotion than this guy, while singing songs dressed as Christmas elves. I would point out that if one wants to learn about how to act in Jurassic Park movies, Jeff Goldblum actually teaches at a Hollywood acting school, but this guy isn’t quite horrible enough to earn a permanent sidewalk imprint on his butt.
That’s all for today. I’m going on spring break this week, so hopefully I’ll be able to tackle more of this movie in longer segments during that time. I didn’t mention this last time, by the way: here’s where you can watch this if you feel the need to get back at your brain and eyeballs for something awful they’ve done to you in the past:
The Jurassic Adventures of Raptor Dash 