What classics did you see last week ? (17 Jun - 23 Jun 2018)

I will thoroughly recommend 2 of the above. No prizes for guessing which 2.

Phone Booth (2003) 6/10



The Woman in Green (1945) 5/10



Dressed to Kill (1946) 4/10



Spy Game (2001) 5/10



Pursuit to Algiers (1945) 6/10



Casanova (2005) 8/10



Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008) 7/10



Daddy's Home (2015) 3/10



The Duchess (2008) 5/10



Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) 8/10



Northern Pursuit (1943) 5/10



To Die For (1995) 7/10

On staycation this past week, I tried to see a few films...ticks and dinosaurs and bears, oh my!




















BATouttaheck At last I have met the amazing Orangey, quite by coincidence, he's good in this movie, a major role too!




Now we enter the Jurassic period of my movie week...

There is quite a story behind that young woman. I suspect a billion people have seen her without knowing it.

See:

The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Well here is my little mix:



No! Boring!


A bit funnier than I thought it would be, though still not great.


Secret mission behind enemy lines.


Cold war satire


Sophisticated classic

“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” Distributed by Focus Films, 93 Minutes, Rated PG-13, Released June 08, 2018:

The parallels and similarities are right there, inescapable and plain, on display for everybody to see:

In Chapter Ten of the Bible’s Book for Luke, a lawyer seeking to test Jesus asks him what he needs to do in order to inherit eternal life. Jesus answers the man by saying that he needs to love God with all his heart, his soul, and his mind. And to love his neighbor as he loves himself.

The lawyer persists. He asks Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” And Jesus replies by telling the man the parable of the Good Samaritan.

An ordained Presbyterian minister, it is impossible that Fred Rogers did not know the story documented by Luke in his Gospel…or that he didn’t have Jesus’ parable very much in mind when he composed the song which opened not only every single episode of his seminal children’s television show, but also is used as the title to the superb new documentary released on June 8 by Focus Features, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”

Fred Rogers, of course, was the creator and star of WQED’s “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” the PBS children’s show which over the course of 912 episodes and 31 years helped entire generations of young people through some of the most traumatic times they experienced between infancy and adolescence. Over the course of those years, Mister Rogers changed not only the face of PBS and children’s television—he changed the world.

Directed by Morgan Neville, the Academy Award-winning filmmaker behind “Twenty Feet From Stardom” in 2014 and 2015’s “Best of Enemies,” the new documentary “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” with the full cooperation of Rogers’ family and unlimited access to rare and obscure archival footage, paints the gentle and soft-spoken Rogers as an enormously unlikely but fearless and persistent revolutionary: The word “radical,” in all its t enses and forms, is used several times over the course of the film’s 93-minute running time.

A 1946 graduate of Latrobe High School in Pennsylvania, Fred Rogers was educated at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire and Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida, where in 1951 he earned a BA in music. Intending to pursue a career as a minister in the Presbyterian Church, Rogers experienced a life-changing epiphany when he first viewed the new medium of television.

Specifically, Rogers was appalled by what passed in those days as children’s television programing—pies in the face, violence, and often-inappropriate cartoons. The young Rogers decided to put on hold his ambitions of a career in faith and religion, and instead set about changing the face and image of children’s television. “I’ve always felt that I didn’t need to put on a funny hat or jump through a hoop to have a relationship with a child,” Rogers says in archival footage used by Neville in the film.

Employing a fairly straightforward documentary style, director Neville makes brilliant use of new interviews with Rogers’ associates, colleagues, friends and family members, as well as writers, critics, and historians, to relate observations, insights, and always more stories and anecdotes about the gentle and unassuming man who sought to make television his personal ministry.

But the real heart and soul of Neville’s documentary is the footage of Rogers himself, blazing trails, opening doors, and resisting intolerance, often in ways which when viewed with the clarity of hindsight appear audacious, sometimes heroic, and at least once even prescient: In February of 1968, during the very first nationally-televised week of “Mister Rogers,” the Neighborhood of Make Believe’s ruler King Friday the Thirteenth commanded the construction of a wall topped with barbed wire to isolate his kingdom from outsiders. Sound familiar?

During the course of Neville’s documentary, we see Rogers sometimes braving almost overwhelming opposition to reinforce his vision, his medium, and his message. While public television was originally endorsed and subsidized by the presidential administration of Lyndon Johnson, President Nixon in 1969 needed more funding to channel to the Vietnam War. He sought to find some of that money by deducting $20 million from government subsidies to the fledgling PBS.

To resist cuts which might’ve ended public television while still in its infancy, Mister Rogers went to Washington to testify before the Senate Communications Committee, headed by the cynical, caustic, and outrageously sarcastic Rhode Island Senator John O. Pastore.

In new interview footage, Rogers’ widow Joanne reveals the nervousness and fear felt by her husband that day, but Neville’s archival footage betrays no such tension. Instead, with a firm but carefully deferential demeanor and a quietly modulated voice little different from the tones and cadences he used to communicate with the nation’s preschoolers, Rogers faces down Pastore’s belligerence. He recites to the Senate committee the lyrics to a song he composed for an episode of his show, highlighting the importance of people helping others.

In six minutes of testimony, Rogers accomplishes much the same result as the US Army’s chief counsel Joseph Walsh did some fifteen years earlier while facing down the despotic Senator Joe McCarthy: After Rogers completes his brief presentation, a chastened and defeated Senator Pastore looks down at his hands and resignedly acknowledges, “Well, it looks like you’ve just earned $20 million.” It’s a powerful moment.

There are many such quietly courageous instances included in this wonderful film. In response to news footage of the owners of segregated hotels dumping cleaning compounds into pools as a means of evicting black swimmers, Rogers appears in an episode of his show soaking his feet in a small pool of cool water, an antidote to the day’s oppressive heat. And when the Neighborhood’s Officer Clemons happens by, Rogers insists that the African American policeman join him.

The message of the scene is unmistakable, but one wonders today how many of the nation’s segregationists understood the relevance of the moment which followed, as Mister Rogers helped his black friend towel off his feet…or that the simple gesture’s roots were in the Bible’s Book of John. In new interview footage shot by director Neville, actor and singer Francois Clemons, who played the Neighborhood’s police officer, still grows misty while cherishing his memory of the scene, and the man.

We see moments from “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” shows on assassination, on death, and divorce—“Love is the root of all relationships,” says Rogers, “Love…or the lack of it.” We see black and white news footage of hundreds of children and their families in a line stretching along entire city blocks for a 1969 guest appearance by Mister Rogers on a PBS show in Boston. And it’s difficult to not feel a sense of electricity and inspiration while viewing the images of Rogers and Clemons emerging side-by-side from a tenement during times of civil turbulence, engaging inner-city youngsters playing in the mean streets of New York.

It would've been impossible for filmmaker Neville to have included everyone's favorite Mister Rogers moment. Among those not shown are Rogers' unannounced appearance on NPR's "A Prairie Home Companion" broadcast when Garrison Keillor's show visited Pittsburgh's Heinz Hall in 1997; the ovation that greeted Rogers was thunderous. And Pittsburgh native Michael Keaton, a former WQED intern and "Mister Rogers" stagehand long before his Hollywood superstardom, was once responsible for a sidesplitting prank in which Rogers was surprised by a blow-up sex doll in his on-set closet instead of a cardigan.

Still, Neville never renders Fred Rogers in strokes larger than the man himself. Mister Rogers was not a saint, nor by any means perfect. We see his eyes flash with anger and his words grow harsh at the thought of a proliferation of violence and suggestiveness in children’s television programming. A staff member recalls Rogers admonishing him for frequenting a venue for gays, and forbidding return visits. And we see Rogers’ son John ruefully acknowledging the childhood difficulties of being “the son of the second coming of Christ.”

But the overwhelming impression of “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” is one of a quiet, gentle, unassuming man, not much different than the one entire generations grew to know, love, and trust—the man who regarded the space between the television and the child “holy ground indeed,” and who sought to “make goodness attractive.”

Is there room in the world for such a message today? The tearful smiles of viewers exiting screenings of “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” emphatically suggest that there is.

"Won't You Be My Neighbor?" is rated PG-13 for some documentary news footage of warfare, as well as some adult language, rude humor, and a flash of nudity.


“Ocean’s Eight” Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures, 110 Minutes, Rated PG-13, Released June 08, 2018:

Be honest: Whenever you see some big celebrity on a TV talk show going on and on about attending some big party—the Oscars, maybe, or the prince’s wedding, or the opening night of some big show—you hate them a little bit, don’t you? Probably it’s something left over from grade school: There’s no party quite as desirable as the one you’re not invited to. And it’s natural to feel jealous, even if it’s of some big movie star.

Described as “the most desirable party invitation in the world,” the Met Gala—that is, the annual fundraising party for the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute—is central to the plot of “Ocean’s Eight,” the new comedy released June 08 by Warner Bros. Pictures. Usually attended by the most popular celebrities in the world, the Met Gala is so exclusive that when a character in “Ocean’s Eight” pronounces the second word of the event “GAY-la,” she’s sharply corrected by one of the organizers to pronounce the word “GAH-la.”

In “Ocean’s Eight,” con artist Debbie Ocean, played by actress Sandra Bullock, is the sister of the character played by George Clooney in the three “Ocean’s Eleven” movies. Paroled from prison after serving nearly six years for the one crime she didn’t commit, Debbie is the kind of con artist for whom lies are a second language—she swindles people so naturally that she often seems to not realize she’s doing it.

The instant Ms. Ocean walks out of prison, she begins recruiting a gang of criminal experts to help her commit the crime she’s been planning since the day she relocated from an apartment to a cell—the theft of the most valuable diamond necklace in the world, which is going to be worn by one of the celebrities attending the Met Gala. A secondary benefit of Debbie’s plan is to frame for the heist the former partner responsible for her incarceration.

The original version of “Ocean’s Eleven” in 1960 was produced primarily so Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and a group of their buddies could hang out together in Las Vegas, carouse, and have fun while making an undemanding, low-maintenance movie. When the picture turned out to be a success at the box office, Sinatra and company were as surprised as nation’s film critics.

Forty-one years later, Sinatra’s original idea began to appeal to superstar actor George Clooney. Clooney helped to organize a remake, with himself in the central role and fellow superstars Matt Damon, Brad Pitt and other popular motion picture luminaries in the supporting roles. Directed by Steven Soderbergh, Clooney’s 2001 version of “Ocean’s Eleven” was successful enough at the box office to spawn two sequels, “Ocean’s Twelve” in 2004 and “Ocean’s Thirteen” in 2007.

Believing the novelty of the idea to have run its course, Clooney, Soderbergh and the others declined to continue the series beyond the 2007 picture. But in Hollywood, no money-making opportunity is left undeveloped. And it wasn’t long before the idea was introduced to produce another “Ocean” movie, this time with a female-led cast.

Joining Sandra Bullock’s gang in “Ocean’s Eight” are Cate Blanchett, Mindy Kaling, Sarah Paulson, Rihanna, Helena Bonham Carter, and the popular rap artist Nora Lum Ying, known by her stage name Awkwafina. The eighth member of the “Ocean’s Eight” title refers to the gang’s target, a superstar and socialite played by Anne Hathaway. Additional roles in the picture are played by Richard Armitage and James Corden, and a couple of dozen other celebrities make brief surprise cameo appearances.

“Ocean’s Eight” despite a couple of serious but unobtrusive holes in its plot is well-made, with everybody on their toes on both sides of the camera. Director Gary Ross keeps the plot moving forward at a brisk pace, with Daniel Pemberton’s unobtrusive musical score helping the picture along enormously: During the planning stages, you’ll notice that Pemberton’s background music features cool jazz with a Calypso flavor, while the heist itself is accompanied by drum-driven soft rock, with a faster tempo to suggest tension and suspense.

But to be honest, nobody’s going to win any awards for “Ocean’s Eight.” It’s about as close as these people get to making a home movie and charging us to see it. And that’s okay—as with Clooney’s version of the picture and Sinatra’s before it, nobody was expecting the “Gone With the Wind” of heist movies, a “Grand Hotel” of crime pictures, or “Godfather”-like critical mass.

But there’s something awfully warm and reassuring about a movie like this…especially if you’ve recently felt the cold, clammy hand of “Hereditary” on the back of your neck. “Ocean’s Eight” is the cinematic equivalent of junk food, sort of a motion picture Big Mac, with a large order of fries and a chocolate milk shake on the side. It costs about as much to indulge yourself, and it’s probably a lot healthier.

Like its predecessors, “Ocean’s Eight” is really about attractive people wearing stylish clothes and hanging out together, much like an Academy Awards broadcast with a plot superimposed. That we get to see enormously likable people sticking a pin into the pretentious butts of the rich and famous is an additional bonus. Stars like to make movies like this because they’re human too. Pictures like this give them a chance to get together and play make-believe.

And if it makes us feel any better, they probably didn’t get invited to the Met Gala either.



“Life of the Party” Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures, 105 Minutes, Rated PG-13, Released May 11, 2018:

Melissa McCarthy is a very, very funny lady.

It’s not a surprise that her latest movie, “Life of the Party,” is an agreeable and suitably comfortable little comedy. The surprise is that while the picture is not exactly in the same anarchic league of such collegiate-based comedies as “National Lampoon’s Animal House” or the dozens of R-rated imitations which followed, “Life of the Party” contains a surprising, and extremely refreshing, streak of subversive humor.

Written by McCarthy and her husband Ben Falcone and directed by Falcone, “Life of the Party” is the third feature released by On the Day Productions. On the Day is the entertainment company founded in 2013 by McCarthy and Falcone. Married since 2005, when McCarthy was still a supporting player on the television series “The Gilmore Girls,” McCarthy and Falcone also wrote McCarthy’s “Tammy” in 2014 and 2016’s “The Boss” for On the Day, with Falcone directing.

Currently the fourth highest-paid actress in Hollywood behind Jennifer Aniston and the Academy Award-winning Emma Stone and Jennifer Lawrence, McCarthy can—and does—command $10 million per film role for appearances in films produced by other companies. As a means of lowering production costs for On the Day pictures, however, McCarthy can afford to modify and lower her up-front salary in favor of a higher percentage of the gross profits of the pictures she makes.

And those profits are frequently enormous—On the Day’s 2014 picture “Tammy” was produced on a budget of $20 million, and earned over $100 million in revenues at the box office. In comparison, McCarthy’s 2015 picture “Spy,” produced by TSG Entertainment and others, spent its way through a production budget of $65 million, earning over $235 million. McCarthy’s name on a motion picture currently all but guarantees its success at the box office.

Produced on a budget of $30 million, “Life of the Party,” stars McCarthy as Deanna Miles, a suburban wife and mother who’s unceremoniously dumped by her husband of twenty-some years the minute they drop their daughter off to begin her career at the nearby college where she’s enrolled.

Turns out that Deanna, back in the day, had unselfishly interrupted her own dreams of a degree in archaeology in favor of marriage and family, supporting her young husband’s continuing education all the way through his graduation. Learning that her husband holds the sole title to their home and that its sale is imminent, Deanna decides on an impulse to complete her degree by re-enrolling in college alongside her daughter.

Melissa McCarthy the producer had the sense to surround Melissa McCarthy the actress with a supporting cast containing some of comedy’s most talented performers. Young Molly Gordon, known to some in the audience from her appearances on television’s “Animal Kingdom,” contributes not much more than a generic performance as Deanna’s put-upon collegiate daughter, although young Gordon does participate in a showcase scene in which mom and daughter bond over a simultaneous Walk of Shame.

But a few of McCarthy’s pals from television’s “Saturday Night Live” have outstanding turns: Heidi Gardner as Leonor, Deanna’s dormitory roommate, shines in the relative handful of scenes she’s allowed. Leonor is probably every college student’s nightmare—a depressive slacker goth princess obsessed with darkness, who seems to have enrolled in college as a means of securing a regular place to crash. But the camera loves Gardner, and the viewer’s eye is naturally drawn to her hilarious performance every time the actress appears onscreen.

Likewise the wonderful Maya Rudolph as Deanna’s neurotic best friend, Christine. The entertainment business seems to not understand how best to use Rudolph’s massive comedic talent since the actress departed “Saturday Night Live” in 2007. Likely all that’s needed to showcase Rudolph as a performer is place her before either a camera or an audience and whisper in her ear the word, “Go.” With every performance, Maya Rudolph continues to both delight and surprise the audience with inventive, frequently caustic, and always funny characterizations.

But supporting players aside, “Life of the Party” is Melissa McCarthy’s show. Following in the adult-goes-to-college footsteps of the likes of Rodney Dangerfield in 1986’s “Back to School,” Bing Crosby in 1960’s “High Time,” the Marx Brothers in 1932’s “Horse Feathers,” and even The Three Stooges in the surrealistic 1938 short “Violent is the Word for Curly,” McCarthy as usual works overtime to please her throngs of fans, and movie fans in general who love to laugh.

Although “Life of the Party” does not allow McCarthy to showcase her improvisational skills, the role does afford the performer some space to mature and grow as an actress. A chirpy appendage to an unappreciative husband during the early scenes, McCarthy’s Deanna evolves before the viewer’s eyes into an enlightened, independent person, in the process softening her abrasive demeanor and deepening her shallow persona to become magnetic, charismatic, and even…well, sexy.

“Life of the Party” is not by any means a perfect picture, or even a classic comedy. A high percentage of jokes fall flat. The precise nature of Deanna’s relationship with Chris Parnell’s archaeology professor is never satisfactorily explained beyond their enthusiasm for tired archeology puns. Deanna’s love interest and boy-toy Jack, played by Luke Benward, mostly comes across as less ardent than sweetly obsessed, although a later plot turn reveals a familial relationship that’s a real knee-slapper. And even the picture’s title seems to belong on another movie, perhaps a treatise on the dangers of liquor, or a comedy about a presidential campaign.

But as with the recent comedies “I Feel Pretty” and “Overboard,” with so many agreeable performers working so hard to earn a smile from the viewer, the result is awfully tough to resist.

Released on May 11, “Life of the Party” is not exactly “Citizen Kane,” but you knew all along it wouldn’t be. And who really cares? The laughter coming from the auditoriums showing Melissa McCarthy’s latest picture, much of it uproarious, is satisfaction enough.


“Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” Distributed by Universal Pictures, 128 Minutes, Rated PG-13, Released June 22, 2018:

When Hearst political cartoonist Windsor McKay created the animated short subject “Gertie the Dinosaur” in 1914 as a gimmick to add to his vaudeville act, he inadvertantly began a tradition in motion pictures to reinvent almost generationally the depiction of prehistoric creatures, using the most advanced technology available.

From “The Lost World” in 1925 to “King Kong” in 1933, from 1940’s “One Million B.C.” to the films of Ray Harryhausen and Irwin Allen in the 1950s and 1960s, the moviegoing public has always seemed to be fascinated with a time when dinosaurs walked the earth. And although human beings and dinosaurs never shared the world simultaneously, the notion of people being menaced by giant prehistoric beasts has always been a sort of catnip to moviegoing audiences.

The apex of the cinematic depiction of dinosaurs, the moment when life and art seemed to intersect, was most likely during one scene in Steven Spielberg’s hit 1993 film “Jurassic Park”—when the visitors to the park turned their heads to see a herd of gentle prehistoric brachiosaurs wandering across the tropical plain and lazily grazing on treetops.

Through cutting-edge special effects technology, persuasive animatronics, and especially the superb motion picture storytelling skills of director Spielberg, the dinosaurs depicted in "Jurassic Park" seemed to be the living, breathing reincarnation of animals which became extinct some 150 million years ago, almost a cinematic miracle.

The difference between “Jurassic Park” and its fourth sequel, this week’s new release “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom,” is that director Spielberg invested the original picture with a heart and a soul, and a child’s sense of wonder. With his famously clear understanding of adolescent sensibilities, Spielberg was able to invest “Jurassic Park” with storybook-like qualities half-remembered by an adult audience that always wondered what it would be like to see a real dinosaur walk the earth.

In “Fallen Kingdom,” the magic is gone. The picture is less a coherent narrative than a template for a bunch of new rides at the Universal Studios Theme Park. You might marvel at some of the technology that animates the dinosaurs, but you’ll never quite be able to persuade yourself that they’re really alive.

With a convoluted storyline which contains enough plot for ten pictures, “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is set some three years after the previous installment in the series, 2015’s “Jurassic World.” Isla Nublar, the island off the coast of Central America which was the site of the original Jurassic Park, is about to be destroyed by a volcanic eruption. After being persuaded by “Jurassic Park” survivor Dr. Ian Malcolm that resurrecting the extinct creatures was a big fat mistake in the first place, the US Senate votes against evacuating the remaining dinosaurs from the island.

Claire Deering, the park’s former operations manager, is contacted by reclusive gazillionaire Sir Benjamin Lockwood with a plan to evacuate the remaining dinosaurs from Isla Nublar, and transport them by ship to his spooky remote estate in northern California pending their permanent relocation to a deserted island he owns. Lockwood is revealed to have once been the partner of the late John Hammond, the founder of the company that originally created the creatures from cloned DNA.

After signing onto Lockwood’s plan, Claire recruits former Jurassic Park dinosaur trainer Owen Grady to accompany her to Isla Nublar to rescue the dinosaurs before the volcano’s imminent eruption. Both are unaware that Lockwood’s ambitious assistant harbors a plan to auction off the rescued dinosaurs to hostile world governments, for purposes related to exploiting their potential as battlefield weapons. As one character intones early in the picture, “What could possibly go wrong?”

The cast tries hard to invest their characters with humanity and a sense of purpose. In the leading roles, Bryce Dallas Howard—the daughter of former child star and current A-List Hollywood director Ron Howard—possesses her father’s scrubbed and bright-eyed earnestness as former Jurassic Park administrator Claire Deering, and Chris Pratt as Owen Grady, a sort of modern Frank Buck, is as much fun as he is in his “Guardians of the Galaxy” persona. Daniella Pineda from television’s “The Vampire Diaries” and Justice Smith from “Paper Towns” and “Every Day” are along to maintain the interest of younger viewers.

The script suggests there might be a romantic attachment between the characters played by Pratt and Howard, but there’s a limit to the audience’s imagination: You can sort of picture them helping each other with homework or walking home together after school, but the notion of ardor between the two is less credible than the idea of living, breathing dinosaurs again walking the earth.

Written by “Jurassic World” screenwriters Derek Connolly and Colin Trevorrow and directed by “A Monster Calls” filmmaker J.A. Bayona, “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” despite a gloomy denouement is a worthy investment for your entertainment dollar, and should scratch your itch for a non-Marvel, non-Disney summer blockbuster. On the subject of cloning, composer Michael Giacchino seems to clone the semi-retired John Williams more and more with each new score he writes. But still, there’s somehow no getting past the suspicion that the whole picture is an elaborate means of separating us from our money.

“Fallen Kingdom” careens from scene to scene, often reminiscent of other movies, from “The Lost World” to “Raiders of the Lost Ark” and finally to “The Old Dark House.” And while Steven Spielberg was canny enough to realize that most former children have an all-star list of favorite dinosaurs, the “Jurassic Park” movies seem to feel they’ve run out of real prehistoric animals to resurrect and need to invent preposterous combinations and unlikely hybrids. Indominus Rexes, and Indoraptors? Really? We might as well be watching “Transformers.”

In the end, the most enduring image in “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” occurs about forty minutes into the picture, as the ship containing the rescued dinosaurs pulls away from the doomed island. A solitary brachiosaur, slowly being enveloped in the smoke and ash of the cataclysmic volcanic eruption, sadly watches from the beach as the ship departs. It’s a haunting and emotionally effective image. Unfortunately, it belongs in a better movie.

“Jurassic Park: Fallen Kingdom,” as expected, is making a mint at the box office. Released to 4475 theaters across North America, the picture earned a little over $150 million at the box office during its opening weekend, despite mixed reviews. Rotten Tomatoes in assigning the picture a 50% approval rating notes that “genuinely thrilling moments are in increasingly short supply.” Metacritic similarly assigns an average score of 51%, while exit audiences polled by CinemaScore assign “Fallen Kingdom” an average grade of A-minus.

“Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” is rated PG-13 for intense sequences of science fiction violence and peril. There’s a post-credit sequence that adds absolutely nothing to the story except to set up the sequel. But since it undoubtedly cost a couple of million bucks to include it in the movie, you might as well stick around and watch it.

“Jurassic World 3,” by the way, will be released on June 11, 2021.