jurassic. park

(Welcome to Nostalgia Bomb, a series where we take a look back on beloved childhood favorites and discern whether or not they’re actually any good. In this edition: Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park is 25 this year, so let’s make sure we’re not crazy about still loving this one.)

The great film truant Ferris Bueller once said, “Life comes at you pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Of course, Ferris wasn’t being chased by a nine-ton T. Rex.

Some people measure their years by the changing of seasons, celebrations of wedding anniversaries (or divorces) or school being out for summer. Not me. Until recently, I chose to mark the passage of time by how many years it had been since the release of Jurassic Park.

I’m not sure quite how JP became my benchmark. I didn’t see it in the theater when it opened in 1993; I wasn’t that into dinosaurs, and my 6-year-old brother would have thrown an absolute shitfit if my parents had excluded him. That first viewing came a few years later, the same brother diving behind the couch every time a velociraptor or dilophosaurus came into view. I still haven’t watched it on the big screen.

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