In Bengali, we have some wonderfully expressive sayings: Golper goru gache otha (roughly, a cock-and-bull story) and ganjay dom mere banano (something made after smoking cannabis).
By the time The End of Oak Street
ended, I had both running through my head.
Okay, I agree the premise is fresh: an entire 1980s neighborhood somehow shifts to a prehistoric era with dinosaurs roaming the streets, chasing and killing people. But it gets boring after a while.
Thanks to my weird brain, I even thought for a moment, when the first blackish-gray
dinosaur appeared on the screen, that perhaps the dog had somehow changed into
the creature. In my defense, the dog's fur coat did look remarkably similar to
the dino’s.
As for the performances: Anne is fantastic.
She brings an emotional range and credibility that the film desperately needs.
I liked her here, though I loved her more balanced performance in Nolan's The
Odyssey. That, however, is a story for another time.
Ewan McGregor doesn't have much to do
except look like a man who has lost his job, failed at being the provider he
thinks he should be, and is now trying to reclaim some dignity, and presumably
some cash, by delivering pizzas.
The children, unfortunately, are another
matter.
The elder sibling,
Audrey, is irritating in an exhausting way. She seems to have wandered into a
horror film without being told there are dangerous dinos outside. She is
impulsive, wildly emotional, and judging by the hints dropped in the film,
exploring her sexuality too. Fair enough. But who, with prehistoric predators
roaming outside, shouts like a mad woman inside the
house or calls out her brother’s name loudly when looking for him outdoors?
Apparently, Audrey.
But perhaps the dinosaurs had noise-cancelling headphones.
Her brother Brian isn’t any better. He
spends a good chunk of the film worrying about his dog, Starbuck, which at least
gives him something resembling a purpose. But the film (and Brian) conveniently
forgets the dog when it suits, making viewers wonder if all that concern was
merely surface-level.
And the ending? Predictable from a mile
away. I knew what was coming long before the scenes unfolded. Perhaps that's
what happens when you read too many thrillers. Or perhaps the film simply
wasn't trying very hard to surprise anyone.
Interestingly, the most entertaining
performance in the cinema hall came from the lady sitting in front of me.
She was completely
engrossed. When Brian failed to time his jump into the wormhole, she cursed.
When Anne was about to be attacked by that slithering, snake-like creature
inside the house, she shouted, “Arey handa, taaka pechone!” (Look back, you dumbsh##!).
And during the Anne-dinosaur confrontation, she was once again fully invested
until McGregor intervened and paid the price. Her reaction? “Now, aro koro sordari!”
(You tried to be smart, and look where you've landed!)
I found myself
watching her reaction almost as closely as I was watching the film. And hers
was more interesting, hands down!
Coming back to the film, the special effects didn't help either. The
dinosaurs looked like they were supposed to inspire fear, awe, and wonder.
Instead, they mostly inspired indifference. They simply didn't feel convincing
enough to make me care whether they were about to eat, kick, or crush someone.
The scene where two dinosaurs were
"doing it?"
Hilarious? Yes.
Memorable? Not really.
By the time the film ended, I was relieved.
But I also rued having sacrificed a good read waiting for me at home in favor
of stepping out to watch the film.
My verdict? The whole film felt like a
meal prepared by a chef who wasn't entirely convinced about his own recipe. The
ingredients were there. The kitchen was expensive. The platter looked
impressive. But somewhere between the cooking and the serving, the chef seems
to have stopped caring whether anyone would actually enjoy eating it.
