by William Berigo Gibim Ortéga
A movie theater that has no structure to accommodate its number of customers. Buying food and paying for tickets becomes a delay. There’s no place for people to wait for their orders, causing a crowd all the way to the entrance door.
It would’ve been enough to simply put a small sign at the top with the person’s number or name, instead of making the employee shout. There’s no bathroom in the service area. There actually is one, but it stays locked inside the nearby theater room. So, anyone who urgently needs to use the bathroom has to pay for a ticket and go up to the theater room to relieve themselves.
The seats in the room are cramped, with armrests constantly touching. All this just to fit in more seats. The screen is full of scratches, and you can clearly see the flaws during the movie.
When I finally got my order — popcorn and soda — the employee was super polite and quick. I had arrived half an hour early to avoid unexpected issues, but the delay caused by the number of people beyond the venue’s capacity was so overwhelming that the movie had already started. So, I missed the opening scenes.
To make things worse, the main experience — the movie itself — was just average: generic characters, although played by very good actors who managed to pull off decent performances. The dinosaurs were good, but the plot was pathetic, desperately trying to reference nostalgic scenes. It felt like an afternoon TV movie; even with all the references, it just doesn’t feel like Jurassic Park. However, it’s still better than Dominion.
Jurassic Park isn’t just a movie about dinosaurs — and anyone who thinks that is only seeing the surface. What makes this movie so amazing is precisely what lies behind the giant creatures: a blatant critique of human arrogance, the worship of technology, and the illusion of control over nature.
The dinosaurs are a spectacle on their own, with revolutionary visual effects that remain flawless even today. But they’re not just there to impress or fill plot holes. They’re used with respect, with purpose. Every appearance has narrative meaning; each creature represents a specific point about the power of nature and humanity’s failure to contain it. The dinosaurs are treated as characters, not just decorations. They have presence, weight, and meaning.
Every character has a greater purpose. Hammond is the typical visionary billionaire who wants to leave a legacy but ignores the risks. He believes he can tame nature with electric fences and next-gen security. He can’t. And that’s exactly where chaos begins.
At the end of the day, Jurassic Park is about humanity trying to control what, by its very nature, cannot be controlled. It’s about limits, responsibility, and respect for the unknown.
Does this movie endure because of better technology? No. It ages well because, sadly, human arrogance remains intact.
Jurassic Park is not just a dinosaur movie. It’s a slap in the face disguised as entertainment. And that’s exactly why I love this film so much.
