Category Archives: Gratuitous Dinosaur Posts

The park is open

Abraham Lincoln was such a Shakespeare aficionado that the quality of a production didn’t affect his enjoyment of it.  “It matters not to me whether Shakespeare be well or ill acted; with him the thought suffices,” he reportedly said.

With Jurassic Park films, the thought generally suffices for me, too.  My attitude is that any Jurassic Park film is better than none at all.  I liked The Lost World; I even liked the much-maligned JPIII, although it didn’t “bookend” the franchise in the way that the first films complemented one another in scale and scope.  I just love the franchise and delight in seeing dinosaurs on the big screen.

The question for me going into Jurassic World, then, wasn’t whether I’d enjoy the film.  I was pretty sure I’d get a kick out of it.  The only question is whether the movie would “suffice,” or whether it would be the follow-up we’ve all wanted it to be.

I got my answer Thursday night.  “Awesome” is a word that suffers from overuse, but in this case it’s warranted.  It’s Hammond’s dream realized on a massive scale, followed by a well-oiled thrill ride that bounces along from one high-adrenaline scene to the next, and it comes as close to capturing the original movie’s sense of wonder as any film I’ve seen in the last fifteen or twenty years.  It’s got enough of that sense of nostalgia to gratify longtime fans of the franchise, but it’s not so captive to its own history that it fails to carve out a place of its own.

Indeed, where it harmonizes with the other installments in the series is not in self-conscious references with a wink and a nudge at the audience—although there are a few of those moments, and they work—but in a more general congruence of structure and theme.  The franchise has always been about two things: the paradox of mankind’s powerlessness to cope with the consequences of his own power, and families, whether the creation of surrogate families (as in the first film) or the strengthening and reconstitution of biological ones (as in the second and third installments).  Jurassic World plays on both themes in a way that’s consistent with the other three films, but with enough innovation to put a new spin on things.

Of course, it isn’t the thematic issues that draw most people to these films.  Ask most moviegoers what Jurassic Park is all about, and they’ll tell you that it comes down to the dinosaurs.  Ironically, it’s with regard to the animals that most of my fellow dinosaur buffs have criticized Jurassic World.  Whereas the original film made headlines for tapping into the spirit of the “dinosaur renaissance” that reinterpreted the terrible lizards as active, warm-blooded, and birdlike, the fourth installment is a little behind the times.  We now know that many theropod dinosaurs—including Velociraptor—were feathered, which only underscores how correct many of the interpretations reflected in the first movies really were.  Jurassic World, however, adheres to the franchise’s internal canon rather than the scientific one.  Indeed, with regard to Velociraptor, it represents a step backward, since one of the raptors in JPIII sported a set of quills on its head in a nod to recent discoveries of feathered dinosaurs.

Normally I’m a stickler for accuracy in movies, and I would’ve preferred a little fluff on the raptors just for science’s sake.  In fact, the original novel provided the perfect rationale for such an adjustment; Wu points out that his lab produces the dinosaurs in “versions” along the line of new software releases to correct for defects in the cloning process.  Still, I’m not nearly as bothered by Jurassic World‘s leathery raptors as I probably should be.  For one thing, the franchise’s raptors were never accurate to begin with.  Velociraptor was a tiny animal; if you ran into a live one, its head would barely reach your thighs, although those teeth could still deliver a nasty bite.  (The raptors in the movies are closer in size to a close relative named Utahraptor, the largest member of the dromaeosaur family.)  And while I agree that feathery raptors in a major motion picture would’ve made for a good public education opportunity, I suspect that the hubbub over the film’s non-feathered dinos has gotten the word out to many of the people who would’ve been surprised had Jurassic World stuck to the science.

But the main reason I’m willing to give Colin Trevorrow and the other filmmakers a pass is simply because I can overlook a great many historical and scientific inaccuracies if a story is told well, and Jurassic World is a great ride.  It’s not a flawless film; it doesn’t have the same flair for deftly handling the scientific and moral aspects of the story with the same wit as the original.  But it’s a return to the franchise’s glory days—a big, bold, breathless adventure story that made me feel like the kid I was back in 1993.  My absolute favorite moment in the film came near the very end, a moment that rectified what I thought would be my biggest complaint about something that had been lacking, a scene perfectly engineered to have fans of the series leaping out of their seats and shouting for joy.  Up until that moment the film had been a home run, but that scene absolutely knocked it out of the park.  That’s as specific as I can get without giving the whole thing away, so suffice to say that Jurassic World saves the best for last, and when the credits rolled, all I wanted to do was go back and take the whole ride over again.

 

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Take the Jurassic World Challenge and support paleontology

A couple of days ago I finished reading An Agenda for Antiquity, Ronald Rainger’s book on the eminent naturalist Henry Fairfield Osborn and his career at the American Museum of Natural History.  It was Osborn who turned the AMNH into one of the world’s leading institutions for vertebrate paleontology.

He was never a field man, he delegated much of the nitty-gritty work of research to his subordinates, and many of his ideas about evolution were off the mark.  But as an administrator, a museum showman, and an intellectual who grappled with big questions, he left behind a tremendous legacy, the magnitude of which is apparent when you walk through those magnificent fossil galleries on the AMNH’s fourth floor.  (Incidentally, Osborn was also a master at coming up with awesome dinosaur names; he’s the guy who christened Tyrannosaurus and Velociraptor, probably the two coolest scientific monikers in the history of zoology.)

Osborn’s background was critical to his success at the AMNH.  He came from a wealthy New York family, and he was connected to some of the richest and most influential Americans of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.  These connections enabled him to raise the money needed to mount expeditions, prepare specimens, build galleries, and publish research.  In Osborn’s day, vertebrate paleontology depended heavily on private donors.

It’s dependent on them still.  A lot of people assume that paleontology must be a lucrative business, since dinosaurs are so wildly popular.  Unfortunately, that’s not the case.  Compared to scientific fields with more immediately practical applications, paleontological research is woefully underfunded.

That’s one of the reasons why I heartily endorse David Orr’s idea over at the paleoblog Love in the Time of Chasmosaurs.  Check it out:

I call it the Jurassic World Challenge. If you’re buying a ticket for the movie, it’s a fair bet that you also have that much money to give to the people who bring prehistory to life in the real world. Think of it as a matching fund, crowdsourced. See the movie, do some good. The official rules:

  • Donate the equivalent of your Jurassic World ticket price to paleontological research
    or
  • Spend the equivalent of your ticket price on the wares of an independent paleoartist

Of course, you don’t have to pick one or the other. Buy some art, give some money to a research effort, enjoy the movie. I also put together a graphic to help spread the word, in before and after flavors. You are free to disseminate these far and wide! Take it and post it on your blog or other social media channels.

If you plan on seeing Jurassic World—or if you’re like me and plan on seeing it many, many times—consider a donation to paleontological research and the production of paleoart.  If you’re unsure about exactly where to send your money, Orr’s blog post has a list of some current research projects and independent paleoartists.  You might also check with your local natural history museum or university to see what dino-related things they’ve got going on that could use your support.

The folks who study and reconstruct ancient animals have made my life exponentially more joyful.  If you’re as excited as I am about Jurassic World, they’ve probably made your life more joyful, too.  Let’s show them a little gratitude.

By Ben Townsend from Blacksburg, Virginia (File:Velociraptor Wyoming Dinosaur Center.jpg) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

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The new Jurassic World trailer is AWESOME, you guys!

Raptors running around and mass pandemonium and ankylosaurs bashing things with their tail clubs and a mosasaur chomping and carnivores grabbing people left and right and explosions and machine guns and pterosaurs snatching tourists right off the ground and whole herds of sauropods and stegosaurs and I think that was the T. rex munching on a goat and HOLY COW I FEEL LIKE I’M TWELVE AGAIN AND IT’S JUST FANTASTIC AND I CAN’T WAIT!

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Brontosaurus is back!

For now, anyway.  Depends on whether the paleontological community gets behind this new study.

Personally, I hope the new classification sticks.  It always seemed like a shame to let an awesome name like “thunder lizard” go to waste.

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Carnegie’s transatlantic dinosaur just got an eviction notice

Here’s a news item that’s gotten plenty of us dinophiles riled up.  After decades of faithful service, Dippy the Diplodocus is moving out of the central hall of the Natural History Museum, London.  A blue whale skeleton will take his place in 2017.

I, Drow male [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

The NHM has been reminding everybody that their Diplodocus is a plaster copy of a skeleton at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh, whereas the blue whale’s bones are the real deal.  That’s true, but Dippy isn’t just any any other display cast.  This dinosaur has got quite a backstory, one that links a multimillionaire, a monarch, and two continents.

Andrew Carnegie was a man who liked to give away money, and some of that money funded dinosaur collecting.  His philanthropic activities in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries coincided with a period of fierce competition among America’s natural history museums, each institution sending teams of collectors into the great fossil graveyards of the West to find the biggest and most complete specimens for exhibition and trying to woo successful field men away from their rivals.  The three-way rivalry among Carnegie’s Pittsburgh museum, the American Museum of Natural History in New York, and the Field Museum in Chicago was particularly intense.

The biggest game of all were Jurassic sauropods, those massive dinosaurs with long necks, whiplike tails, and legs like Doric columns.  Carnegie wanted something big for Pittsburgh, and he got it in 1899; the Diplodocus his collectors unearthed in southeastern Wyoming that year was the largest dinosaur ever found at the time.  It was an important moment in the Carnegie Museum’s history, establishing it as the premier institution for the collection and exhibition of Jurassic sauropods.

Diplodocus bones had been found before, but this specimen was remarkably complete and the holotype of a new species, which John Bell Hatcher named D. carnegii in honor of the man who signed the checks.  Carnegie was so proud of his namesake dinosaur that when Hatcher published a reconstruction of its skeleton in 1901, the steel magnate had the image framed on the wall of Skibo Castle, his Scotland retreat.  In 1902 King Edward VII paid Carnegie a visit at Skibo, spotted the picture, and decided that the British Museum needed a Diplodocus of its own.

Carnegie was happy to oblige.  His technicians cast the dinosaur’s bones in plaster, along with pieces from other sauropod specimens to fill in what was missing from the 1899 find.  The Diplodocus made its British Museum debut in the Gallery of Reptiles on May 12, 1905.  Carnegie’s remarks for the occasion pitched the dinosaur as a transatlantic link between two countries, emphasizing the connection between the up-and-coming science museums of America and the more established institutions in Britain:

It is doubly pleasing that this should come from the youngest of our museums on the other side to yours, the parent institution of all, for certainly all those in America may be justly considered in one sense your offspring; we have followed you, inspired by your example.…Thus you, Trustees of the old museum, and we, Trustees of the new, are jointly weaving a tie, another link binding in closer embrace the mother and child lands, which never should have been estranged, and which, as I see with the eye of faith which knows no doubt, are some day—some day—again to be reunited.

The skeleton was a sensation, and it wasn’t long before other museums wanted their own Diplodocus copies.  Plaster sauropods became something of a cottage industry in Pittsburgh.  Within a few years, duplicates of Carnegie’s dinosaur stood in Paris, Berlin, Bologna, Vienna, Buenos Aires, Madrid, and the museums of other great cities.  (For more on the backstory of Carnegie’s dinosaur, check out Tom Rea’s fascinating account, from which I pulled the above quote.)

The original specimen went on display back in Pittsburgh, while the London copy moved a couple of times before taking up its current quarters in the central hall in 1979.  That’s where it was in the late eighties, when I saw it as a kid on my first trip overseas.  My parents both taught high school, and used to take their students on field trips to Europe during the summer.  Maybe they decided this would be a good opportunity to give me a learning experience, or maybe they couldn’t find a babysitter willing to put up with me while they went galavanting off to England for ten days.  Either way, I managed to get a trip to the natural history museum out of the deal.  Young dinosaur nut that I was, I got a bigger kick out of Carnegie’s plaster Diplodocus than I did out of the Tower of London or any of the other things I saw.

In fact, there’s quite a bit of irony in my personal connection to Dippy.  After dinosaurs, whales were my second biggest obsession as a young kid.  Along with the Diplodocus, one of my most vivid memories from that trip to England is seeing the whale exhibit in the Large Mammals Hall, including the blue whale skeleton that’s taking Dippy’s place in 2017.  Normally I’d be thrilled to see a new whale mount going up in a museum, but when the whale is knocking a dinosaur off its pedestal I can’t help but be a little miffed.

According to statements released by the NHM, the blue whale will remind visitors of the fragility of life on earth, since even this huge creature is vulnerable to extinction.  I can understand that, but my sentiments are still with those who want to leave Dippy in place.  One of the reasons the dinosaur’s pending relocation has stirred up such strong feelings is the fact that we all have such strong emotional attachments to those places where our earliest moments of discovery happened.

The NHM is thinking about creating a new cast of Dippy for the museum’s grounds, or taking the skeleton on tour.  Those aren’t bad ideas, but I can’t imagine anything more fitting to be the centerpiece of the main hall than a dinosaur.  I’m extremely partial to dinosaurs—as partial as they come—but you don’t have to be a hardcore dino aficionado to realize that there’s just something uniquely transcendent about them.  As paleontologist Robert Bakker has said, dinosaurs “take your mind and they stop it.”  The only response to one of those massive skeletons, whether it’s a plaster cast or not, is to just stop and stare up in awe with our mouths agape and our eyes wide, everything giving way to simple, unfeigned, unmixed, undeniable awe at the notion that such things were real, that they walked the same planet we do now.  For centuries, we’d been telling ourselves stories about dragons and monsters, and then when mankind had finally outgrown these stories, when we’d begun to master time and space and assumed that we’d peeked in all the world’s dark corners and reassured ourselves that there were no dragons lurking there, we started digging in the ground and found out that the dragons had always been there after all, waiting for us.

A whale skeleton might indeed remind NHM visitors that the world needs good stewardship, but if you want an invitation to wonder and curiosity, to the sort of attitude that museums work so hard to cultivate, you just can’t top a dinosaur.  Carnegie and Edward VII knew that, and I hope the folks at the NHM keep it in mind.

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Just in time for Thanksgiving, it’s the Jurassic World trailer

Aaannnnd here it is…

First impressions?  What excites me most is the scale.  A fully operational park full of crowds means interesting opportunities for some serious mayhem on a wide canvas, very different from the more intimate, tightly focused approach of the third installment.

Looks like an interesting balance of new stuff (mosasaurs, nifty ride systems, new characters) alongside old stuff that we’ve come to expect from the franchise (wonder, terror, kids in peril, raptors, and scientists making reeeaaaallllly bad decisions).

Would’ve been nice to see some T. rex, but there’s still plenty in that two-and-a-half minutes to take in.

I wish next summer would hurry up and get here already.

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In Rev War and dino entertainment news

Today‘s Jenna Bush Hager visited the Jurassic World set and talked to the cast.  Mostly they discussed Chris Pratt’s abs, but there were also some tantalizing glimpses of what the park is going to look like.

Meanwhile, it looks like AMC has renewed Turn for a second season.  As much as I like having some Rev War fare on TV, I’m not a fan of putting a fictional love triangle at the center of the story.  I’d much rather see the plot unfold from the circumstances of what the Culper Ring was actually doing.  You’d think there would be drama enough involved without manufacturing all these romantic interests for the characters.

And they really need to stop teasing us with the prospect of showing iconic battles without following through.  That stunt where one of the main characters was unconscious during Trenton?  That was just mean.

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