If you grew up in the ’90s, Jurassic Park (1993) probably left eternal claw marks on you. Maybe you saw it at the cinema, maybe you wore out your VHS tape at home—but either way, you likely remember the awe of that brachiosaurus rising up, like you were right there in the Jeep, and the sheer terror of raptors stalking through the kitchen.
Directed by Gareth Edwards and co-written by David Koepp (who also wrote the first two films), Jurassic World: Rebirth pulls off something pretty rare—it’s a fresh, standalone adventure that pays real homage to the original. From the opening frames, it’s clear the filmmakers understand the emotional legacy they’re stepping into. The use of John Williams’ iconic theme is sparing but perfectly placed—just enough to stir that deep, familiar thrill. But Rebirth isn’t just banking on nostalgia—it’s got its own story to tell.
Set five years after Dominion (2022), the film unfolds in the Neo-Jurassic Era. Earth’s climate has become largely inhospitable to dinosaurs, confining them to remote islands along the equator. Here, Big Pharma swoops in, with the morally bankrupt Martin Krebs (Rupert Friend) deploying a black-ops team to harvest dinosaur DNA for medical purposes. The mission is led by mercenary Zora Bennett (Scarlett Johansson), joined by steadfast captain Duncan Kincaid (Mahershala Ali) and palaeontologist Dr Henry Loomis (Jonathan Bailey). Their dynamic is a standout—Zora, an original and compelling action heroine, is sharp and watchable; Henry, the kind of adorable moral compass you’d happily follow into a velociraptor pit; and Duncan brings a quiet emotional weight that anchors the whole film.
We also follow a family—Dad Rueben (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), his two daughters Teresa (Luna Blaise), 11, and Isabella (Audrina Miranda), 18, and Teresa’s boyfriend, Xavier (David Iacono). While the family is introduced through a slightly drawn-out boat scene, they’re a welcome addition, bringing moments of humanity and humour. Isabella, as the youngest in particular, captures that Spielbergian sense of awe and fear. Her wide-eyed expressions to the island’s dangers evokes what made the original film so powerful. In one nail-biting scene, she hides in the aisles of an abandoned service station—a clear nod to the aforementioned kitchen scene. It’s beautifully done, genuinely tense, and for a moment I forgot I was meant to be reviewing and not just whispering, “don’t move, don’t breathe.”
One of the film’s most moving threads belongs to Ali’s Duncan, who carries the grief of having lost a child—and the guilt that it may have been his fault. That pain surfaces when the group rescues the family, with Duncan tearing into the dad for bringing his kids into the same waters. Later, his promise to protect young Isabella adds emotional stakes that land hard. In fact, a bit more time spent on those emotional threads would’ve made it even stronger. The group’s split on the island is narratively necessary (and sets up a dark reveal about Martin), but the emotional weight suffers while they’re apart. For a good stretch of the film, we’re following two storylines that feel disconnected. And when they do finally reunite, the moment doesn’t quite hit the heart like it could have.
Watching Rebirth, I found myself wondering: if this had been my first Jurassic film, would it have cast the same magic? Probably not—but it’s unreasonable to expect that. For those of us who saw Jurassic Park as kids, it was something else entirely. So much of the wonder we felt was tied not just to the technical novelty of the time, but to how the film was made. Spielberg’s use of child-height camera angles wasn’t just clever cinematography—it was emotional engineering. The music swells, the camera cranes, and the audience, adults included, are invited to look up in amazement through a child’s eyes. The first two films were rated PG, while the later entries—including Rebirth—are classified 15. That’s quite a difference.
Jurassic Park also arrived at a time when the idea of a cinematic universe still felt new, whereas today’s teens have grown up in a media-saturated world of interconnected blockbusters and CGI-heavy spectacle. The emotional threshold is higher. So while Rebirth doesn’t recreate that same sense of wonder, it’s not trying to. And for us elder-millennials and up—it might be time to let that go, and be thankful we got to experience the magic.
For someone new to the franchise, it’s an epic introduction. And for those of us who grew up under Jurassic Park’s colossal legacy, it reignites the feeling of discovering it for the first time through familiar music cues and lush island landscapes. For everyone, it’s a fun, swashbuckling adventure with generous nods to the original while offering a fresh flavour with current themes (although you’ll need to block out all the product placement to appreciate the message about corporate exploitation).
The CGI could have used some fine-tuning, and a few early scenes could’ve done with a trim. The characters are strong, no doubt—but with tighter pacing, we might’ve felt their journeys hit a bit harder.
It may not be Spielberg—but Gareth Edwards comes impressively close.
