I marveled at the audacity of Passengers having flat out copied the med pod from Prometheus - until I saw who wrote it. You really have to wonder how much Spaihts anticipated the negative reaction this film would receive, and how much potential self-deprecation went into his script. I wonder.

The first 15 minutes had me hooked. By the time the papacy is playing volleyball it's official: we're just killing time.

At some point the adults in the room will realize they can't keep peddling Hammond's insane dream as something virtuous (Crichton didn't romanticize the character like Spielberg did, who projected his own desire to spoil children - which, come to think of it, sure explains why he cast Santa Claus in the role). Real pity they could only tiptoe up to the notion of animal rights, but I have a sneaking suspicion these writers are trained to space out their material (inevitable future franchise installments have to be about something, after all); zoological-industrial complex to be discussed in Jurassic Universe.

"Fuck Amok." Seen for the first time in the cinema - and I recommend everybody see it this way, as the inevitable walkouts seem central to the viewing experience.