If there’s one thing that defines Gareth Edwards as a director, it’s his knack for scale. The guy knows how to make things look and feel epic. But the only thing impressive about the scale in Jurassic World Rebirth is just how completely flat and lifeless it all feels. Across seven films, audiences have marveled at prehistoric monstrosities resurrected via ancient Dino DNA, stirring up all the usual ethical woulda, shoulda, coulda hand-wringing. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should” has never felt more relevant, nor as exhaustingly humdrum as it does with Rebirth. And yet here we are, in the fourth new-era Jurassic World movie (seventh overall), with a film so devoid of purpose and personality that it feels like a supergroup doing a really expensive cover of someone else’s greatest hits album. Read More