The genius of the Jurassic writers lies in recognizing that when your hero runs headlong into a famished carnivorous lizard the height of a small apartment building and the weight of fifty refrigerators with teeth as sharp as butcher knives and claws as long as horse legs, well, it’s just not very exciting. The characters should also be stuck in a trailer suspended over an eighty-foot cliffside or should be fleeing an active volcano spewing fireballs in every direction. That’s how you create the thrilling excitement of Jurassic World.
It’s said art teaches us about life, and Jurassic World teaches us how to genetically engineer monsters and what to do when they try to kill us. The solution: engineer bigger monsters. That might seem to set us down a slippery slope, but the best art defies logic, and if they had resolved every question there’d be no reason to make a sequel.
Here is my Her challenge. Take the 230-word dialogue excerpt below from Her, which is fairly representative of the film's dialogue in general, and count the number of concrete nouns. If you get a total greater than zero, redo this step because you did it wrong. Then do the same count with the 90-word love poem which follows, which I found at the first link that popped up when I googled "bad teenage poetry". Again you should get a total…
Fun FROGS fact: just as you have a school of fish, a colony of ants, a gaggle of geese or a plague of locusts, the correct term for a collection of frogs is an army. So perhaps frogs can form an organized attack force after all, though you'd never guess it from this movie.
About a third of the footage in this film is National Geographic style closeups of iguanas, bullfrogs and vipers trying to look as threatening as possible.…