I've spent a good majority of my film journalism career immersed in the world of independent cinema. 

It is in my name, after all. 

I've seen the best of indepndents. I've seen the worst of independents. 

I've seen independent cinema where action sequences fall flat, boneheaded extraneous storylines sabotage a film's potential, and where I sit there befuddled by the missed opportunities. 

I had the same experience watching Jurassic World Rebirth, most definitely NOT an independent film and yet a film that is seemingly so charmed by itself that it often feels as if we're all its cinematic possibilities implode. 

I wanted to love Jurassic World Rebirth, though I will confess I've never been much of a fan of the Jurassic films. Early reviews seemed to indicate the possibility that director Gareth Edwards had figured out the perfect ingredients to make this baby cook. 

Alas, Edwards is sabotaged by David Koepp's clunky storytelling and laughably awkward dialogue along with far too much time being given to the uninteresting and completely unnecessary Delgado family. 

And yet, somehow, Jurassic World Rebirth remains at least somewhat watchable. Much of that credit goes to the welcome addition of Jonathan Bailey and the charm of Scarlett Johansson and the always welcome Mahershala Ali. 

Jurassic World Rebirth is considered a stand-alone reboot to the three-film Pratt sequels. The film takes place only a few years after Jurassic World Dominion. The planet is now nearly inhospitable to the dinosaurs that remain. They are limited to the sparse, isolated equatorial landscapes and humans are expressly forbidden to visit. 

However, as we will quickly learn it has been discovered that three of the most colossal creatures remaining hold the key to a miracle drug capable of ending heart disease and bringing about remarkable benefits to mankind. 

So, um, here we go. Eh? 

Johansson is Zora, a sort of mercenary drawn less to the humanitarian side of the effort and more to the number of zeroes offered as her reward. She will be joined by Bailey's Dr. Henry Loomis, a quirky and anxious chap whose Altoid-chomping fits of anxiety are among the film's highlights no matter how often they happen. They'll be aboard a ship owned by one Duncan Kincaid (Mahershala Ali), a renegade pal of Nora's, along with, of course, the obligatory baddie, Martin Krebs (Rupert Friend). 

As I left the movie theater, I will acknowledge that I leaned toward an ever so slight recommendation for the film. I fancied Bailey's Dr. Loomis quite a lot and found myself even rather enchanted by the poorly used Mahershala Ali. Considerably better than Jurassic World Dominion, Rebirth certainly wasn't a rip-roaring good time but neither was it the disaster I'd expected it to be. 

Yet, this is where my immersion in the world of independent cinema comes in. 

Blessed with many millions of dollars to make the best film that could be made to restore Jurassic World to its glory days, this was determined the best that Rebirth could be. This film in which nearly every character's fall looked as if they were either being pushed down or pushing themselves down toward the grand as if we'd entered a Conjuring mash-up. This film, in which dialogue often falls so laughably flat that I laughed out-loud at unintentionally funny times. This film in which the Delgado family, dad (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo) apparently has a rare weekend with his kids only to take off with them in his sailboat toward prohibited islands with the results to be expected. 

This film. This film. This film, at times close to having moments of brilliance only to practically force itself fully into mediocrity again and again and again. 

I'd not even gotten home from the movie theatre before realizing that any sort of recommendation was absurd. I could think of a myriad of $10,000 independent films that I'd rather watch again than ever sit through the over two-hours I'd devoted to watching a mediocre movie commit relentlessly to its mediocrity. 

And yet, I must stress again. Jurassic World Rebirth is still at least somewhat satisfying. I found myself fancying the idea of a Bailey-led journey into the Indiana Jones world should that franchise ever be, well, rebirthed (and you know it will). While I've spent years rather hit-and-miss on Johansson, I found myself utterly charmed by her here despite costuming that seemed designed to remind us that she has breasts. Large breasts. I was reminded that Mahershala Ali is fiercely talented and woefully underutilized. Heck, even going back to the Delgados I found myself enchanted by David Iacono's slacker, lazy boyfriend who likely has more character development than anyone else in the film. 

So, yeah. There were times I genuinely enjoyed Jurassic World Rebirth. 

Just not enough.

I have a feeling that Jurassic World Rebirth will be satisfying enough for many franchise fans and for those kiddos who want to see the bada** dinosaurs. Did I like Jurassic World Rebirth? No. Did I hate Jurassic World Rebirth? Also no. While a dramatic improvement over Jurassic World Dominion, Rebirth is also yet another reminder that for all the wonder of the original film it seems as if no one has ever really understood why that film remains a beloved classic. Instead, Jurassic World Rebirth is yet another reminder that when mediocrity is your only goal mediocrity is what you get. 

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic