johnnymacbest

There was a time, not so long ago, when the silhouette of a brachiosaurus rising through mist was enough to make an auditorium of children believe in magic. Jurassic World: Rebirth, regrettably, is not that time. Instead, Universal's latest excavation of its prehistoric IP feels less like a cinematic dig site and more like a branded tomb-meticulously looted, desaturated, and flattened for global distribution.

Gareth Edwards directs with the solemnity of a man asked to revive a corpse using only archival footage and studio mandates. Shot on film, yes, and occasionally beautiful-there's a river sequence that's almost meditative in its restraint. But even nature's grandeur begins to sag under the weight of exposition and algorithmically optimized casting.

Scarlett Johansson gamely plays Zora Bennett, expedition leader and emotional ballast, though her performance is confined by dialogue that treats introspection like a scheduling error. Mahershala Ali, luminous as ever, lends gravitas to a script that fails to reciprocate. Jonathan Bailey is present, which is more than can be said for his character arc.

The central monster-the D-Rex, that lamentable hybrid-is a Frankensteinian cipher. Briefly glimpsed, then abandoned, it's a symbol not of awe or terror but of studio fatigue, a creature less bred than brainstormed in a conference room with poor acoustics.

Dinosaurs, meanwhile, remain absurdly photogenic, rendered in VFX so glossy they could be auditioning for toothpaste ads. The absence of practical effects-once a point of tactile joy in Spielberg's original-reminds us that cinematic evolution doesn't necessarily mean improvement. These beasts are pretty, but they lack heft. Wonder, once palpable, has been rendered weightless.

There are gestures toward nostalgia, of course. The familiar strains of John Williams drift in, like scent memory of a long-lost summer. We're meant to feel something. Mostly, I felt tired.

Jurassic World: Rebirth is not a disaster. That would suggest risk. Instead, it's what passes for safe: a product engineered to stir faint echoes without inciting thought. The film gestures at rebirth but delivers reruns. And perhaps that's the real extinction event-not of dinosaurs, but of cinematic daring.

Marvel's Ironheart enters the cultural landscape with the promise of championing diversity, both in its cast composition and thematic concerns. However, upon deeper analysis, the series serves as a case study in the limitations of diversity initiatives that prioritize surface-level representation over deep narrative integration. Nowhere is this more apparent than in its treatment of Riri Williams' supporting cast-particularly her best friend, whose trajectory is emblematic of narrative negligence cloaked in the language of inclusion.

The character arc of Riri's best friend initially suggests an ambitious metaphysical odyssey: a literal ascension to a higher plane of existence, rich with existential and spiritual implications. Yet rather than explore the psychological aftermath or philosophical ramifications of such a transformation, the show reduces this monumental event to a mere plot device-briefly invoked and then narratively discarded. What could have been a profound meditation on mortality, identity, and transcendence devolves into aesthetic spectacle without consequence. This signals not only a structural failure of storytelling but also a missed opportunity to broaden the discourse around Black interiority and speculative fiction.

Equally troubling is the series' decision to revive a deceased woman as an artificial intelligence-a former maternal figure, no less-without interrogating the ethical implications of such a choice. Riri's decision to reanimate this consciousness is framed as a pragmatic act of genius, yet it raises profound questions about agency, grief commodification, and consent. These themes are ripe for analysis in a posthuman context, yet Ironheart resists any engagement with them, choosing instead to reframe the AI as a sanitized emotional crutch for the protagonist. It is a moment that exemplifies technological empowerment at the cost of moral complexity.

This avoidance of emotional and philosophical depth is mirrored across the supporting cast. Characters of diverse backgrounds are introduced with an air of symbolic importance, but rarely develop beyond thematic placeholders. Their arcs are truncated, their decisions unearned, their screen time insufficient to foster meaningful audience attachment. The result is an ensemble that gestures toward inclusivity while being narratively disempowered.

In sum, Ironheart reflects a larger issue endemic to mainstream media's implementation of representation: the privileging of optics over substance. By squandering intricately seeded plotlines and emotionally charged dilemmas, the show undermines its own potential. True diversity in storytelling does not simply populate screens with varied faces-it allows those characters to carry weight, to challenge protagonists, and to linger in the viewer's mind long after the credits roll. In Ironheart, we are left only with the specter of what could have been.

Where do we even start with this? Never has a game been this abysmally unoriginal, uninspired, trite, narrative repulsive story and characters with inconsistent characterization and motivation and just leaves a bad taste in a gamer's mouth and a waste of time, money, and tears.

It has been proven time and time again that divisive politics is ruining and continues to ruin entertainment as a whole and Dustborn or should I say, Dullsborn, is a true testament to that statement. Over the years, we've been bombarded with not-so-subtle political messaging, bringing in outside, daily world problems into video games where their primary reason and purpose is to, y'know, ENTERTAIN. There's a time and place for political discussions; not in any form of entertainment whatsoever; if you wanted to be preached to, you go to a seminar, town hall meeting, etc. Everyone else just wants escapism. Dullsborn provides NONE. At all.

So, to sum it up, spend your money, time, patience and Perseverance on other, more entertaining games like Black Myth: Wukong, Warhammer: Space Marine 2, Stellar Blade or any game that is devoid of audience alienating political discussions, etc. This latest dumpster fire will simply bore you to tears.

Avoid, like the avalanche.