The Midnight Horror: 'The Jurassic Dead' (2018)

♰ Welcome to The Midnight Horror! ♰

I must confess, today's post is arriving late, but trust me, I had my reasons. After enduring the sheer torture of the 2018 (or perhaps it was 2017) comedy-sci-fi-horror abomination known as The Jurassic Dead, I needed some time to clear the jumbled mess that had become my mind. It felt as if my brain cells had staged a mutiny, and I had to wait for them to recover before attempting to put my thoughts into coherent sentences. Let me tell you: this movie is an unholy disaster! I loathed every second of it! The blame falls squarely on the shoulders of the filmmakers—the directors (yes, there were two of them), the writer, the producers, and, of course, the actors. They each contributed to this chaotic train wreck, and I am more than willing to unleash my wrath upon them.

Let's talk about the plot—if you can call it that. Picture this: a ragtag group of redneck mercenaries teams up with a bunch of tech-savvy students after America is hit by an EMP attack. In the midst of the chaos, they stumble upon the source of their troubles, a mad scientist named Dr. Borge, who has inexplicably managed to create a living T-Rex. But this isn’t your average dinosaur; oh no! This one has a nasty habit of turning anyone it bites into a zombie. So, our ragged heroes must scramble to survive and avert the apocalypse at the hands of this ultimate undead predator.

Now, if you came in expecting a colossal, bad-CGI battle between a zombie T-Rex and an army of mercenaries rampaging through a city, prepare for disappointment! The grandeur promised on the Wild Eye Blu-ray/DVD poster is a cruel joke—aside from the T-Rex, which, mind you, is more comparable in size to a raptor than a towering behemoth. I can begrudgingly give the filmmakers a smidgen of credit for attempting to use practical effects for the T-Rex, but I absolutely cannot forgive them for the convoluted, cluttered plot. The blame lies entirely with them. Look, I understand the ambition behind attempting to create a B-level monster flick, but there's a stark difference between making a B-movie with an ironic twist and producing a jumble of incoherent nonsense. Sadly, these filmmakers lack the necessary talent to straddle that line.

How do these cinematic nightmares get made in the first place? It seems that anyone with a half-baked camera and minimal know-how believes they can direct a film. They may aspire to be the next Ed Wood, but at least Ed infused his work with an unmatchable passion that shone through the screen. What I witnessed in The Jurassic Dead had no soul, no spark—just the lifeless floundering of misguided ambition. As I sat through this excruciating experience from start to finish, I couldn't help but question my own sanity—who’s the bigger fool, the filmmakers or me for subjecting myself to this travesty?

So let me save you the pain: do not watch The Jurassic Dead. You’ll thank me later. And while you're at it, do yourself a favor and steer clear of anything that seems remotely connected to this cinematic catastrophe. Consider it my small act of mercy for your viewing pleasure. ╌✰✰✰✰✰

〜B.J. Burgess