By the time Jurassic World: Dominion closed the last chapter of the saga, it felt as though the franchise had eaten itself whole suffocated by callbacks, weighed down by nostalgia, and unable to find fresh ground to walk on. So when Jurassic World: Rebirth was announced, I wasn’t sure if there was anything left for this story to say. Strangely enough, that scepticism is exactly what makes this film a surprising ride, though, depending on who you ask, that ride may feel either exhilarating or exhausting.

Unlike its immediate predecessor, Rebirth doesn’t lean heavily on the legacy characters or drown itself in franchise references. It almost does the opposite. Outside of a fleeting name-drop and a musical echo of John Williams’ iconic theme (beautifully reinterpreted by Alexandre Desplat), the film chooses to stand on its own feet. That restraint is refreshing. For the first time in decades, a Jurassic film dares to tell a new story with a new set of characters, while still staying rooted in the universe that Michael Crichton first sparked to life.

The story itself follows a pharmaceutical expedition to harvest DNA from three of the largest remaining dinosaurs in order to develop a life-saving drug. By now, most of the prehistoric creatures have died off, unable to survive in a world so different from the Mesozoic age. What remains are isolated populations thriving in harsh, equatorial environments that feel both dangerous and otherworldly. The mission, of course, goes horribly wrong, and survival becomes the only real objective. Along the way, a shipwrecked family is folded into the chaos, deepening the stakes in ways that feel familiar but still effective.

Now, here’s the thing, Rebirth plays with all the classic Jurassic tropes: the greedy corporation, the scientist torn between wonder and ethics, the kids in peril, the tough-as-nails heroine, and dinosaurs reminding us that “life finds a way.” These ingredients are nothing new, but what matters is how they’re cooked. For some, like myself, there’s something enjoyable about how Gareth Edwards deploys these beats. He gives us moments of genuine awe and terror in equal measure, particularly in the standout Mosasaurus sequence a tense, waterlogged set piece that echoes Spielberg but still carries Edwards’ own sense of scale and spectacle. For others, though, these tropes might feel like stale leftovers, reheated once more without adding much new flavor.

The divide in reception really comes down to expectation. If you come to Rebirth looking for groundbreaking storytelling or deeply compelling characters, you’re bound to walk away disappointed. Much of the ensemble feels underdeveloped, their arcs pencilled in rather than fully fleshed out. At times, the corporate conspiracy thread feels thin, and the family subplot arguably the emotional core gets sidelined when it might have carried the most weight. These missteps make it easy to see why some critics call the film formulaic or even the weakest of the sequels.

But if you come for the thrill of dinosaurs on the big screen, for that balance of horror and wonder, for the sheer rush of adventure cinema that doesn’t take itself too seriously, Rebirth lands where it needs to. Edwards’ steady hand, paired with David Koepp’s return to the franchise’s narrative DNA, gives us a film that isn’t trying to rewrite history it’s just trying to deliver a good time at the movies. And in that regard, it succeeds more often than it fails.

At the end of the day, Jurassic World: Rebirth isn’t the triumphant new beginning its title suggests, but it also isn’t the hollow cash-grab some feared. It sits somewhere in between: a summer blockbuster that embraces its own contradictions, reminding us that dinosaurs are both terrifying predators and awe-inspiring animals. It may not breathe new life into the franchise, but for two hours, it at least manages to make us feel the thrill of being prey again. And honestly, isn’t that the heartbeat of Jurassic?

Rating: 4/5