Jurassic World and the Extinction of Capitalism

Jurassic World is exactly what one would expect of the fourth installment in a film series revolving around the resurrection of dinosaurs: it is as loud, thrilling, stupid and awkward as the dinosaurs themselves are.  And the plot of the film is as entertaining as it is predictable. Set 20 years after the events of the original Jurassic Park, the dinosaur theme-park industry has finally become viable and successful. Ironically, it is so popular that the familiar dinosaurs no longer inspire inherent awe and fear. The dinosaur theme-park industry feels threatened by such fading wonder and paranoid with the possible loss of revenue. To support itself the theme-park turns to outside investors to fund its newest attractions: hybridized dinosaurs.  The first such commercialized hybrid, and the primary threat throughout the film, is the Indominus Rex: a hybrid of T-Rex and Velociraptor DNA created by Dr Henry Wu (BD Wong). Suffice to say that such a creature does not prove a commercial success, at least not for the entertainment industry.  The military industrial complex, on the other hand, is interested in its potential as a military asset. And Indominus isn’t the only dinosaur they are interested in weaponizing; Velociraptors are also in demand as counter-terrorism assault units. Velociraptor-handler Owen (Chris Pratt) and operational manager Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) unite together against both the escaped dinosaurs and the military industry out to exploit them as weapons.     

Jurassic World is a combination of sequel and reboot, in the same way that the iconic Indominus Rex is as much a new dinosaur as it is a hybrid of previous genetic strains. It repeats the same dinosaur-disaster-scenario of the original films but provides it with the rationale of contemporary political concerns over corporate manipulation and military exploitation. Both the film and the park itself appropriate elements of their former incarnations in order to derive greater profit from such rejuvenated nostalgia. Yet the film and the theme-park within the film build upon the success of what preceded it as much as they build over it, deliberately obscuring its origins out of anxiety over its absence of authenticity. The new Jurassic World theme-park is literally built upon the ruins of the old Jurassic Park and hidden behind walls from the public.  Lowery (Jake Johnson), one of the park control room operators, comes into work wearing a Jurassic Park t-shirt that he bought online out of nostalgia for the original park. He is then reprimanded by Claire for doing so with her claiming it was done in poor taste. Such is the internal conflict of the film: the oscillation and contradiction between respecting the authenticity of original creations and the commodification and manipulation of creations for profit. Jurassic World appears to endorse the former as a priority but this ideal is continually undermined throughout the film. Lowery came to the park out of the same nostalgia that attracts movie audiences to Jurassic World who are fond of the original Jurassic Park; but for both Lowery and the film audience, the encounter proves unfulfilling. 

Although both Jurassic World the film and Jurassic World the theme-park may be unfulfilling, at least the former is not unenlightening, devoid of critical insight. Viewed from the proper perspective and the disappointment of the film is its most critical asset. In order to appreciate the film, one must recognize the parallel between the film and the theme park that the film depicts. The most explicit signifier of the parallel between the film two is the title of the film itself; Jurassic World being both the title of the film and the name of the park within the film. Jurassic World merely appears to be another movie about dinosaurs, but it is actually a movie about movies about dinosaurs.  It is a criticism, albeit a conflicted one, about resurrecting beloved franchises, be they dinosaurs or films about dinosaurs, for profit. Jurassic World is fundamentally a film about corporate exploitation, not merely of nature, but of the film industry as well. The film is thoroughly self-conscious of itself not only as a film, but as a franchise film.  It frequently makes references which collapse the distinction between the escapist spectacles of the theme-park with that of the film industry itself. Underlying both is the same operating principle of deriving profit from consumers by capitalizing on nostalgia for past excitement made more spectacular. Whether contained within the screen of a theatre or the enclosure of a theme-park the spectacle is the same.

If viewed with a critical gaze, it becomes apparent that the film is an indictment of the block-buster film industry within the crisis of contemporary capitalism. Films are produced primarily to provide corporate revenue, and are hastily assembled from disparate appropriated elements of previously successful films in the hope that the familiar imagery of previous films will predict profit for the rest of the franchise. The film is as much homage to the originality of previous films as it is a criticism of attempts to exploit that originality through sequels. The reboot, unlike the sequel, clears away past plot-lines while appropriating the icons that made the previous films successful.  The audience is able to indulge in the product, insofar as they are capable of collective amnesia regarding past plot-lines they may have been invested in. Loyalty is to the brand alone, since it being divorced from any narrative context outside of its current presentation. For fans of both the film and the park, all that matters are the iconic dinosaur-commodities, with it apparently being best to forget the disastrous events preceding them. Yet it is this intentional ignorance of remembering the past as past that proves disastrous for both the film and park. Indominus was genetically engineered as a commodity to sustain the capitalist industry of the park. In similar fashion, the Jurassic franchise has intensified itself with each film in order to maintain relevance and commercial success. Not only do we want to live in a perpetual present, able to relive the past again and again, but we want it to be more spectacular with each incarnation, and this desire proves to be more disastrous as well.   

Lowery laments that people never learn, commenting on recurrence of dinosaur-related crises caused by capitalism. His statement not only addresses the corporate sponsors of the park, but those of the film itself. The partnership between the new theme-park and corporate sponsors undermines the integrity of the park’s original vision of being able to encounter dinosaurs with wonder, rather than greed.  If new dinosaurs are being sponsored by corporations, they might as well be named after them as well. Why not Pepsi-saurus or Doritos-don? After all, it’s already “Indominus Rex presented by Verizon”. Ironically, this criticism of corporate excess is contradicted throughout the movie as the audience endures product-placement for Mercedes-Benz, Starbucks, Pandora, Brookstone, Margaritaville, Beats by Dre headphones, and Coca-Cola. Yet such intrusions are doubly ironic for they remain consistent with Lowery’s complaint within the film, even if they prevent that message from resonating with the audience. Since the film takes place within a theme-park resorting to corporate sponsorship, it is only nature for such brands to be on constant display for the audience. The product placement of the film is a self-referential meta-joke whereby the movie is critical of itself. What appears to be merely an in-film advertisement that undermines the film, may actually be an arresting example of its message to the audience. 

Capitalism provides the realism for the film, situating us within a world we recognize as mediated through brand labels. And thereby does capitalism reinforce itself as the only economic reality we can relate to. The corporate sponsorship of the theme-park is as consistent as it is in conflict with the anti-corporate message of the film, but underlying both is the assumption that capitalism is the only economic reality conceivable to us, and criticism of it can only occur from within the horizon of capitalism itself. Jurassic World is awkwardly aware of itself, much in the way that the contemporary consumer is critical of capitalism but cannot conceive of the world as otherwise. Unable to conceive of a space outside of capitalism by which to criticize it and offer an alternative to it, the critic is only able to present criticism immanent to the commodity itself.  Unable to offer an alternative to capitalism, but unwilling to support it, the critic can only present their critique as a further commodity of the entertainment market. As Russell Brand notes, the film “plays on the anxieties that it’s creating and then sells those anxieties back to you in the form of a movie.” One cannot help but read the conflicted self-awareness of the film as reflecting the inner turmoil of the film-makers themselves.

Earlier in the film, the military security expect Vic Hoskins (Vincent D’Onofrio) attempts unsuccessfully to convince Owen Grady that the Velociraptors would be better served as military assets rather than entertainment animals.  Owen rebukes Vic, insisting that the Velociraptors are not mere commodities but are living things that have to be respected, not mastered. But once Indominus Rex escapes and is rampaging through the park, Owen and his raptors are forced to submit themselves to military oversight. Vic convinces Owen that the raptors will be made into military assets with or without his participation, and it would be better for Owen if he was there to lead them than stand idly by. In similar fashion, with or without director Trevorrow, the studio was going to make Jurassic World so as to produce profit for its shareholders. But rather than produce another failed franchise film, Trevorrow directed a film critical of the franchise industry despite being a franchise film itself. This reflects the contemporary conception of capitalism as a dominating totality that can only be criticized from within. Specifically such comodification is understood as inevitability; the best one can do in such circumstances is to produce ironic self-critical commodities since commodification as a whole is unavoidable and inevitable.  

The problem with such parodies of commodification, especially in film, is that they appear as authentic forms of dissent while obscuring the fact that they are actually mass commodities guilty of the most gratuitous forms of corporate branding. Despite the inescapable fact that Jurassic World is a franchise film sponsored by corporate interests, it can be credited with making this comedically explicit and condemning it. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the character of Lowery situated in the control room. Not only does the control room parallel a movie theatre with its massive screen, but Lowery even wears a fan-boy t-shirt and sips on a large soft-drink making him easily identifiable with an audience member of the film. Lowery’s frustration mirrors our own; he is attracted to the nostalgia of Jurassic Park just as we were with Jurassic Park, yet we are each cynical about the commercialization of its current form and feel powerless to see it collapse before us on screen. And just as Lowery is working for a company whose practices he detests, so too do we find ourselves responsible for the production of terrible franchise films because studios know they can exploit us into seeing them again and again by resurrecting the past for profit. The extent to which the audience is ruthlessly criticized in the movie will likely escape their awareness. The film asks us to reflect back upon ourselves and question the degeneration of the film industry and our responsibility for it. The joke is on us as members of the audience as the film accuses us of being at fault for movies like itself. Jurassic World was made to remind audiences that it should not have been made, that the original Jurassic Park should be preserved and not exploited and refashioned into some new hybrid form through excessive corporate investment.  

In Russell Brand’s review of the film he states that what fascinates him is that “Starbucks will pay big money to have a fake franchise outlet in a fake theme park, even though the theme park is a microcosm of man’s destructiveness, particularly as a result of capitalism.” This truly is fascinating.  Not only is a real corporation interested in product placement in an unrealistic film, but it maintains this interest despite the fact that the film is an obvious critique of the absurdity of such an investment. Corporations have become so consumed by profit, that they seek out product placement even in spaces which explicitly condemn them, and we have become so cynical regarding such corporate interests that we are willing to welcome in their dominating presence, if we are even conscious of it. If the theme park of Jurassic World is to be identified with the film of Jurassic World then the attendees of the former represent the audience of the latter. If Indominus Rex is the monstrous product of focus-groups as much as the film itself is, then we as members of the audience are implicated in both the disaster of the park and film. Not only do we want to indulge in the fantasy of seeing a dinosaur, on some level we want that fantasy to escape and run rampant, destroying the exploitative system that spawned it. Our fantasies cannot be contained in isolation, but will eventually escape and wreak havoc.

Jurassic World represents the rampant chaos of capitalism in all its self-destructive glory in the vehicle of Indominus Rex: created to ensure the prosperity of the park it proves to be the catalyst for its collapse. Just as the dinosaurs, created to entertain humanity, prove to be their destruction, so too does the threat of rampant appropriation and commodification of life threaten the future of civilization. The film tells the cautionary tale of exploitative and destructive capitalism, only for us to them fall prey to it and be consumed by it in turn. The drive for profit and power over the market result in the collapse of the industry.  This mode of dominating nature and distilling commodities from it can only lead to inevitable disaster. In the original film, death and destruction appeared as obstacles to the awe and wonder of encountering an actual dinosaur.  In Jurassic World however, such destruction is itself the source of wonder, with dinosaurs being created and exploited precisely because of their propensity for violence and terror. This reveals not only the destructive consequences of capitalism, but its inherent self-destructiveness, of which we as consumers are implicated. The excesses of capitalism inevitably cause it to explode in crises and disasters which threaten the system as a whole while simultaneously producing the rationale to reinvest in the system to contain those crises; the release of Indominus Rex provides the rationale to turn the raptors into counter-terrorism units and the crisis serves as their field test. This sort of insanity is intelligible only if capitalism is conceived as a totalizing system with no alternative to it.  The best we can do is to produce our own monsters to contain other monsters.

Despite the Frankenstein-nature of Indominus Rex, Dr Wu is quick to point out that all the dinosaurs of the franchise are not true dinosaurs; they are all hybrids of recovered dinosaur DNA and DNA derived from other animals such as reptiles and amphibians. Not only does this provide an explanation of how the dinosaurs were able to be resurrected through incomplete DNA samples, but it also gives the film an excuse for maintaining its aesthetic against the imperative of scientific accuracy.  Jurassic World (and Jurassic World) willfully ignores scientific discoveries in order to cater to consumer interests; the dinosaurs are genetically modified to prevent them from exhibiting characteristics that conflict with the scientific expectations of dinosaur physiology. But most critically his statement exposes the impossibility of any natural purity; it is artificial commodification all the way down the lineage. The original film did not make this explicit, pretending that the dinosaurs were accurate representations of nature, while Jurassic World is more honest about its manipulation of nature in the service of profit. As such, it risks its honesty as being labeled hypocrisy.

As a critique of capitalism, the film is interesting in its own right.  But as a failed critique, the film is fascinating.  It is not only a representation of the struggle against commodification, but is itself a site of that very struggle. Jurassic World presents a critique of capitalizing and commodified nostalgia, only to perpetuate that process and thereby force its critic upon itself. Critics who expect the film to be taken seriously will be sorely disappointed but such critics fail to recognize as a joke, deriving insight from this insincerity.  Wherein less observant critics will see the film as a failure, a more nuanced appreciation of the film will reveal that the film is reflective of a greater failure of the film industry as a whole, if not global capital itself and our inability to imagine the world any other way. Apparently it is easier to imagine the resurrection of dinosaurs, thanks to capitalism, rather than the extinction itself.