Movie review: Jurassic World: Rebirth

Directed by Gareth Edwards and written by Jurassic Park veteran David Koepp, Jurassic World: Rebirth ushers the franchise back to its roots: isolated jungles, pulse-pounding suspense, and dinosaurs that truly feel alive. This isn’t the globe-spanning chaos of Jurassic World Dominion — it’s closer to the original Jurassic Park vibe, where danger lurks behind every tree and the creatures are the real stars.

The story unfolds on a quarantined equatorial island, where Parker-Genix has confined dinosaurs for pharmaceutical research. The goal is to extract rare DNA from prehistoric species to develop a new treatment for heart disease. But, as always in this universe, tampering with nature comes at a steep cost. Edwards’ decision to shoot on 35-mm film gives the jungle setting a dense, almost dreamlike, texture, and the dinosaurs have never felt more present or terrifying. A T-rex river ambush and a late-night Mosasaurus encounter are among the most riveting sequences the franchise has delivered in years.

At the heart of the film is a trio of characters sent into this dangerous zone: Zora Bennett (Scarlett Johansson), a covert ops expert with layers of trauma just beneath the surface, Dr. Henry Loomis (Jonathan Bailey), a wide-eyed paleogeneticist with a reverence for the creatures around him, and Duncan Kincaid (Mahershala Ali), a level-headed mission leader whose quiet gravitas lends the expedition a sense of moral weight. Their performances are thoughtful and restrained, letting the film breathe instead of drowning it in exposition.

Layered into the narrative is a family subplot featuring the Delgados: Rubén, his teenage daughter Teresa, her boyfriend Xavier, and younger daughter Isabella. They’re inadvertently swept into the action after a Mosasaurus capsizes their sightseeing boat. While their presence initially feels like a narrative detour, the emotional warmth they bring, especially in the interactions between Isabella and a tiny, injured herbivorous dinosaur she names Dolores adds a surprising softness to the film’s more harrowing moments. The family’s arc doesn’t dominate the story, but it punctuates it with just enough heart to make the danger feel personal.

The real stars of Rebirth, however, are the dinosaurs. They’re no longer background chaos or plot devices — they’re active, unpredictable presences in the film. Whether it’s the lumbering Titanosaurus, the slithery menace of the Distortus rex, or the eerie intelligence of the Velociraptors, each species is given space to exist as more than spectacle. Edwards treats them with reverence, and the result is a film where you genuinely feel their power.

Not everything lands perfectly. The pharma-villain subplot is undercooked, and the introduction of genetically modified hybrids — dubbed “Mutadons” — feels like the franchise dipping its toes back into the sillier sci-fi that bogged down previous entries. The family arc, while often sweet, sometimes interrupts the pacing just when the tension is rising. But these stumbles are minor in a film that finally remembers to be thrilling and strange, instead of just loud and expensive.

Alexandre Desplat’s score plays a big role in maintaining the film’s haunting tone. Rather than replicate John Williams’ grandeur, he opts for restraint. His music drifts through scenes like mist, lending an ethereal quality that reinforces the idea that humans are intruders in this ancient world.

In the end, Jurassic World: Rebirth isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel. It’s trying to steady it. It knows the franchise lost its way and, instead of denying that, it leans into a simpler, more primal kind of storytelling. By stripping the narrative back to survival, awe, and raw instinct, the film does what few modern blockbusters manage — it makes you feel small again, in the best possible way.

Rating: ★★★ (3 out of 5)

A grounded, emotionally resonant return that brings the dinosaurs — and the danger — back to the forefront, even if its human storylines wobble along the way.