Jurassic Park at 30: A Special Kind of Dino D.N.A

This story contains spoilers for the overarching Jurassic Park franchise as a whole.

Thirty years ago, a four-year-old little girl went to the movies for the first time. Jurassic Park would proceed to change her tiny world, even if, at the time, the only thing she was really capable of articulating about it was “oooh, dinos!” The movie would inspire a lifelong obsession with both dinosaurs and film, one of which would be put in grave danger some time later when a global pandemic shut down movie theaters. But, just like the dinosaurs from Michael Crichton’s original novel, life found a way and drive-ins would make their triumphant return. Because of that, Jurassic Park ended up being the first movie that girl saw in a drive-in nearly 30 years later, too. 

(That girl was me.) 

Jurassic Park is, objectively, one of the greatest films of all time. Whether you’re in awe of the marriage of its practical effects and CGI, in love with the characters who have stood the test of time with ease, or are just looking for some monsters-munching-people goodness, there’s something in this movie — and its subsequent franchise — for you. Have you ever met someone who doesn’t actually enjoy Jurassic Park? I’m guessing no. (Bet the dinosaurs ate them.) 

Because of its status as one of the greatest films of all time, basically every single aspect of Jurassic Park has been written about a hundred different ways. So, what could I possibly have to offer after so many writers — many of whom had the benefit of seeing it when it premiered with fully developed brains — have dissected it every way humanly possible? Reverence, my friends. But that reverence isn’t just my own. Rexy’s (that’s the T.rex) proverbial footprint is huge, both personally and culturally. So much so that, despite the popularity of the creatures, no one’s been able to crack the dino D.N.A. in quite the same way.

Dinosaurs, of course, exist across all forms of media. Whether it’s Batman’s Fido (yes, the animatronic T.rex in the Batcave has a name); the Transformers franchise’s Dinobots; The Valley of Gwangi’s titular dinosaur; or the countless depictions of beloved prehistoric personalities from The Land Before Time’s Littlefoot to Rugrats’ Reptar to Rex, Woog, Elsa and Dweeb of We’re Back: A Dinosaur’s story (which was the second film I saw in theaters, several months after seeing Jurassic Park). But, whether they feature dinosaurs as the key players or in a supporting role, none of these other properties have achieved the same kind of cultural oomph as Jurassic Park. 

Yeah, the death of Littlefoot’s mom ruined all of our lives, but we’re talking impact as a whole, here!

While some have made fun of just how far Jurassic Park missed the mark on realistic dinosaurs, the dino-centric franchise is chock-full of attention to detail. For example, Alan Grant’s helicopter seatbelt struggle foreshadows the reveal that all the dinosaurs at the park are women, as the paleontologist cannot fasten his belt because he has two “girl” sides of the belt. Meanwhile Tim’s book pays homage to paleontologists both real and fictional. The book shown is, of course, written by Alan Grant himself, but Tim also mentions a book by a guy named Bakker, a nod to Robert T. Bakker, one of the on-set experts who helped keep things prehistoric.

One of my very favorite — and most heart wrenching touches — requires a one-two punch from two separate films. The very first dinosaur we see on Isla Nublar in Jurassic Park is a brachiosaurus. It’s a miraculous moment, one where the audience gets to live through Ellie and Alan’s absolute awe of creatures they’ve devoted their lives to without ever laying their eyes on them. Five films later in Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, the silhouette of a brachiosaurus is all we can see in the smoke as the remaining dinosaurs are engulfed by flames after the eruption of Mt. Sibo. Move over, Littlefoot’s mom. I have a whole new scene that makes me cry into my dino stuffies.

And that’s really the crux of what makes Jurassic Park’s continuing story so impactful — at least on a personal level. Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler are two of my favorite characters of all time, but it’s not really about them. I am here for the dinosaurs, and a tiny change triggered that lifelong connection that would leave me bawling like I was four years old again as Isla Nublar went down in flames. 

In Spielberg’s last-minute decision to include the T.rex in the final scene — a choice that was made because he believed viewers would be frustrated if they didn’t get to see her again in the finale — he put the dinosaur in the position to be the unintentional hero of the film (unintentional because our girl just wanted a snack). This is a trend that continues throughout the franchise, but starts to feel more and more intentional as the series progresses. Rexy’s front and center through the biggest, most memorable moments, whether it be Jurassic Park’s finale or Jurassic World’s Blue/Rexy team up for the ages, but both the T.rex and the velociraptor (and eventually her baby, Beta) continue to play key roles in these films.

Rexy is the top of the food chain, and she’s not going to let anything try and take her spot.

Back when the Birth. Movies. Death magazine was still kickin’ (RIP), I wrote a story called “Instinctive Guardians: The Unlikely Heroes of the Jurassic Franchise.” In it, I pointed out that, no matter our love for these characters, they’re really just doing what their instincts tell them to. Rexy is the top of the food chain, and she’s not going to let anything — mosasaurus, indominus, giganotosaurus or otherwise — try and take her spot. In her first finale, she’s helping the raptors understand their place and the humans are barely a blip. The same is true when she saves Owen from the carnotaurus in Fallen Kingdom, and the giganotosaurus in Dominion. Blue — despite the eye-roll worthy “raptor trainer” nonsense — is also largely driven by these instincts, even if she is a little farther down on this food chain and has a tenuous loyalty to certain humans. 

While Blue hasn’t always been met with the same affection as the T.rex who started it all, it’s hard to argue the difficulty of making a dinosaur a protagonist without actually making a dinosaur a protagonist. From where I’m sitting, it’s the weird anti-hero status of Jurassic Park’s key dinosaurs that keeps us coming back for more. (In a different timeline, the whole InGen/espionage angles were handled better and that’s what kept us coming back for more, but those have currently been squandered in favor of cicadas.)

Somehow, a last-second change — adding Rexy to the finale of Jurassic Park — unlocked what seems to be the key to the successful dinosaur blueprint. And, even if that’s not the real secret sauce, it’s most certainly what enamored me and sent me on my journey into criticism. So, I guess you can all thank Steven Spielberg for the fact that you’re stuck with me now. 

See you in five years for a riveting breakdown as to why The Lost World: Jurassic Park is great, actually. 

Amelia is the entertainment Streaming Editor here at IGN. She’s also a film and television critic who spends too much time talking about dinosaurs, superheroes, and folk horror. You can usually find her with her dog, Rogers. There may be cheeseburgers involved. Follow her across social @ThatWitchMia