Why Haven’t All The Dinosaurs Been Killed Yet?: The Logistics Of A Cool – But Implausible – Inter-Species Conflict

A few weeks ago, I watched ‘Jurassic World: Battle at Big Rock,’ a short film that gives us a glimpse at how humans and dinosaurs are interacting in the wake of ‘Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom’s ending.

Having been given a taste of what the third Jurassic World film might be like, I tried to imagine how things could get worse from this point out. Currently there are five concrete facts known about ‘Jurassic World 3’s story:

1. Claire, Owen, and Maisie will be back.

2. Alan Grant, Ellie Sattler, and Ian Malcom are coming back as well.

3. The story will take place around the globe.

4. Dinosaurs being created, sold, and spread around the world.

5. It will not be about a world war between dinosaurs and humans.

Despite the last fact being confirmed, I’m guessing that there will still be a major conflict between humans and dinosaurs, and an inevitable battle to see which species will have the privilege of survival. There is, however, one huge problem with this plot: At the end of ‘Fallen Kingdom,’ approximately 67 dinosaurs escaped into the wild. ‘Battle at Big Rock’ tells us that:

*The dinosaurs have been in the wild for a year.

*Their presence is known to the public at large.

*People are willing to go camping with their families when giant carnivores are running around (?!).

With that in mind, there’s one important question that must be answered: Why haven’t the dinosaurs been killed yet? From a public safety standpoint, these dinosaurs are an invasive species and a massive menace to public health. It’s only logical that authorities would want to take these creatures out as quickly as possible to ensure public safety. But why haven’t they? Five possibilities come to mind:

1. Authorities have not gone after the dinosaurs.

2. Authorities are hunting them down, but are having a difficult time locating them.

3. The dinosaurs have been tagged and are allowed to roam free within a limited area.

4. Shady individuals are bribing/threatening government officials to let the dinosaurs run free.

5. The public wants the dinosaurs to run free.

The first option is highly unlikely: whenever a bear or other dangerous animal is loose near communities, it’s quickly hunted down. If there was, say, an allosaurus or a tyrannosaurus rex stomping around a national park or suburban community, they’d be hunted down as quickly as possible, and if the authorities were slow to do so, then mobs of armed civilians would take up the task, not wanting their children or loved ones to become Purina Dinosaur Chow.

The second option is more reasonable, but still unlikely. We have technology and weapons that not only allow us to kill any dinosaur we come across, but to also track them down; finding the heat signature of a T-Rex or Triceratops with infrared cameras on a helicopter would be a relatively simple matter (though it’d be more difficult to track smaller dinosaurs, like the compies, and finding that mosasaur and the pteradactals would be neigh-impossible considering they could be swimming and flying anywhere on Earth), and military-grade weapons would make short work of even the thickest dinosaur hide. An ankylosaurus might be among the most heavily armored dinosaurs, but I doubt it would survive a rocket to the face.

The third option is the most likely, but is not without its flaws: as noted earlier, dinosaurs are an invasive species, and while a plant eater might be allowed to walk about freely with a tracking beacon, a house-sized carnivore who needs to eat hundreds of pounds of meat a day would still be a massive public safety hazard, and would be tracked down as quickly as possible and shot.

The fourth option, as silly as it sounds, could be at play in some areas: In this day and age, corruption runs rampant in governments, and the thought of shady companies/organizations who want the dinosaurs to survive for whatever reason would deploy threats or bribes to force various officials to look the other way. The problem with this, though, is that the inevitable public backlash against prehistoric carnivores running free would eventually become too great for even bribed officials to ignore; history shows that, when the public demands something for long enough, and loudly enough, governments eventually cave, no matter how corrupt they are.

The fifth and final option has people wanting the dinosaurs to roam wild and free and sing songs in the sun all day long… which means it’s probably environmentalists, hippies, and children who would take this option. But the problem is that they’re likely to be a minority, with the majority of people wanting their families and children to stay safe from murdersauruses running about in the woods.

With all that said, which option is the most likely one? While we’ll have to wait until 2021 to find out, I’m guessing the answer is a mix of 3 and 4 with a sprinkle of 5 thrown in: The authorities are going after the dinosaurs, but because of public affection for the beasts, authorities have decided to tag and track the herbivores, allowing them to roam free while warning the public that they may encounter said beasts in the wild. But while the authorities go after carnivores, the beasts somehow manage to escape capture, thanks to people who want them to be free, such as Eco-terrorists who work to remove tracking chips, or threaten people who try to tag said carnivores.

Of course, this is all speculation. I could be wrong on all of these, or may have just correctly guessed how things are going in the ‘Jurassic’ universe. But this scenario does provide a valuable lesson for writers of speculative fiction where unusual animals are released into the present day: There needs to be a very good reason why they aren’t wiped out quickly by humanity and our drones, guns, helicopters, tanks, and the like. Perhaps the animals are shapeshifters, or perhaps they reproduce at an astonishing rate, or have hides that are almost impervious to our weaponry. Simply having them run free without a good explanation of how they survive won’t work in our modern era; going back to the 6osih dinosaurs now roaming the wild, we have to contend that they face 7 and a half billion people, billions of guns, and every military on earth. To survive, each dinosaur – including the compies – must kill approximately 124,758,064 people to win the inevitable dinosaur war. Coupled with the fact that we have helicopters, heat-seeking missiles, high-caliber weapons, and an unmatched talent for wiping out entire species when we put our hearts and minds to it, the logical outcome of such a war is that the dinosaurs are slaughtered within a week or two, with only the compies surviving and thriving due to their small size, speed, ability to hide almost anywhere, and (presumably) fast reproduction speed.

The bottom line? Before we release animals into the wider world in our stories, it’s always a good idea to sit down, take a few minutes, and figure why they’re not blown to kingdom come by the most bloodthirsty species on the planet – us.

Favorite Moments: Jurassic World Battle Royale

We all have our favorite moments in movies, books, and games, moments that stay with us long after the story is over. This column is my attempt to examine my favorite moments and see why they stick with me.

***

The Video

Why it’s great

Here’s an interesting mental exercise to try when you’ve finished your next book or screenplay: If all the characters in your story were put into an enclosed area and forced to fight to the death, who would win?

That’s the premise behind this video, which features every dinosaur in the game, ‘Jurassic World Evolution’ (up to that point) released into a single, large enclosure to fight for survival, and see who would come out on top. As you might imagine, it’s… well, it gets pretty chaotic as herbivores and carnivores duke it out to see who wins the privilege of being the last one standing, to have the privilege of being lord of all they survey, to stand tall on Isla Nublar and bellow forth their call of triumph as they’re pelted with popcorn by gawking tourists for the rest of their lives.

While I’ve always found massive free-for all battles fascinating, it wasn’t until this video that I realized why: The fewer contestants there are, the higher the drama gets, and if one of your favorite characters is among the last few standing, you’ll hope against hope that they’ll survive (I was rooting for the Spinosaurus and the T-rex), even though fortunes can turn in an instant, and death is only one mistake away.

What we can learn from ‘The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time!’

METADATA-START

45 weeks ago, we took a look at ‘Sharknado 5: Global Swarming’, and now, at long last, it’s time to take a look at the final film in the venerable series: ‘The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time!’

After five long years of sharknados taking out cites, going into space, becoming radioactive, and destroying the world, the series finally comes to an end with ‘The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time!’ which, having exhausted all other possibilities, sends the title monster back through time (the only other sensible option would have it going to the afterlife), with surfer-rurned-barternder-turned-sharknado killer Fin Shepard on a journey to stop the sharknados for good. Let’s journey along to see what valuable story lessons we can learn by watching sharks terrorize people throughout history.

Avoid abandoning a greater-scope villain after establishing them

In the previous film, ‘Global Swarming,’ we learned that the sharknados were not just a freak of nature, but were created by a malevolent shark god that Fin and friends (I never get tired of writing that) set out to stop. While they did stop the sharknados at the end of the fifth film (at the cost of every other human alive), it’s odd that the shark god isn’t mentioned in ‘It’s About Time’.

When we introduce a supernatural threat – or any threat so big that it effectively becomes the main antagonist for a franchise – it’s imperative not to have that threat dropped so quickly, especially when it’s a supernatural one. It’s logical to think that Fin would have to take out the shark god to prevent any further sharknados from being made, but its nowhere to be found. If our own greater-scope villains need to be dropped, a good reason needs to be established instead of never mentioning them again, hoping that audiences won’t notice. They will.

Establish solid rules for time travel, lest audiences get hopelessly confused

While traveling through time offers nearly endless possibilities for exciting storytelling, it can quickly become a mess of intersecting timelines, cause and effect, and how actions in the past affect the future (and that’s without getting into the grandfather paradox). ‘It’s About Time’ tries to make things simple by stating that everyone can only travel back in time once, but then it has Gil continuously going through different eras. When it comes to time travel, it’s best to make things as simple as possible. Better to have our audiences focus on the fun shenanigans going on, then wondering how such things are possible.

When doing time travel, consider bringing back minor characters for big roles

One of the things that ‘It’s About Time’ does best is bringing back minor characters for bigger roles in the story, like Bryan and Skye. While they may have served as cannon fodder in their original appearances, or had a small role that didn’t affect the story all that much, we don’t expect much from them. They’re background characters, ones who don’t take the spotlight. Thus, when they come back as main characters, they become underdogs who have a chance to shine and help save the day. Even better is if they’re in a completely new time and location (like the prehistoric era), as not only do they have to contend with being in the spotlight, but now they also have to try and survive in an environment they’re not familiar with.

Consider having monsters and antagonists from the future battle people from the past

One of the most enjoyable aspects of time travel stories is seeing people and technologies from different eras interact with one another. How, for example, would a modern-day person fare in the Revolutionary War era? Or in Ancient Egypt? How do technologically disadvantaged people fight off opponents from a different era? ‘It’s About Time’ has medieval knights, Revolutionary War soldiers, and Cowboys fight off sharks, and those battles are easily the highlights of the movie.

The reason these fights are so interesting is that the people of the past are automatically the underdog and have to fight harder to win. Cowboys have the advantage of guns when fighting sharks, but revolutionary war soldiers only have muskets, while knights are stuck with swords and bows, which makes audiences wonder how on earth they’re going to win. An even cleverer version of this trope is to have the people of the past take advantage of futuristic tech: When sharknados attack Revolutionary America, the British use a sharknado to gain an advantage in their war, almost changing the course of history in their favor.

When writing historical characters in time travel stories, the more authentic they are, the funnier they are

Another draw of time travel stories is being able to use famous people throughout history and put them in exciting fights and teamups with monsters and people from other times in history. Part of this draw is seeing how someone from one era coping with another, and how they would react to, say, modern weapons and technology. However, for this trope to be most useful, it’s important to make historical characters as accurate as possible; much of the humor/awesome factor in their appearances is that they take things seriously. While comedic or light-hearted time travel stories can make famous people goofballs (Think ‘Bill and Ted’), it is possible to go too far: When Finn and his friends go to the Revolutionary War era, I was excited at the thought of seeing George Washington fighting a sharknado. Instead, we get a man who’s more interested in taking a nap and cracking jokes instead of fighting or taking the situation seriously.

Consider having someone alter history in a time travel story, even when they know it’ll hurt them

While ‘It’s About Time’ engages in all the standard time-travel tropes (meeting famous figures, having historical characters and groups fight monsters from other eras, etc.) and get into debates about changing the future to avert a personal catastrophe (Nova trying to save his grandfather), the film smartly changes things up by giving Finn an impossible choice: He has a chance to stop sharknados forever by traveling through time, but at the cost of losing his son, who will never be born, and even be erased from Finn’s memory.

So often, time travel stories are about changing the future for the better, or preserving it, but rarely do we see stories where travelers doing the right thing know they will suffer greatly, even if its for the greater good. By having our characters lose something important to them, whether it’s a loved one, a job, or a dream, and being willing to let them go to save so many others, we give them an unparalleled chance to shine and show how brave and heroic they can be.

If it fits the theme of a series, there’s nothing wrong with a happy ending

It’s a classic trope: The characters of a story manage to succeed in their fight. They achieve their goals, get what they want, and live happily ever after. It’s so overused that it’s a scenario that could easily turn into a parody, and many stories try to subvert it by using a darker, or more bittersweet ending where not everything is right or well. But there’s nothing wrong with a happy ending, especially if it’s well-earned, and the end of the Sharknado series has a very well-earned one indeed: Fin manages to restart history and create a timeline where sharknados don’t exist, saving all his friends and acquaintances, and even Gil, with the very last shot of the series has Al Roker declaring that it’s going to be a beautiful day with nothing unusual going on. It’s a satisfying conclusion that ties everything up, and gives everyone a happy ending without any tease or hint of further adventures, giving the characters – and us – closure.

And so, after a year, we finally finish our marathon of all the Sharknado films. Turn in next week, when we’ll do an analysis of the series as a whole.

What we can learn from: ‘Wizards of the Lost Kingdom 2’

Wizardsofthelostkingdom2cover

Two weeks ago, we took a look at the 80’s fantasy film, ‘Wizards of the Lost Kingdom,’ a flawed film that had a lot to teach writers on approaching fantasy tropes. When I saw that a sequel had been made, I was curious to see if it had learned from the mistakes of its predecessor, and after watching I can say that while the end result is… well, while not a classic film, or a well-made one (it features the most obvious rubber snakes in film history), it is an improvement, if only a little. I was especially pleased to see that ‘Wizards 2’ corrects the lack of a focused plot: instead of a vague goal and random events, our protagonists here have a clear, achievable goal from the beginning and a general knowledge of what they’ll face. As a whole, ‘Wizards 2’ is better than the first, including a few genuinely clever ideas, but you’ll probably get the most entertainment out of watching it on ‘Mystery Science Theater 3000.’

Now, strap on your sword, and let’s return to the world of Argentian sword-and-magic epics to see what we can learn from the last tale set in the world of Axeholme.

Avoid doing a follow up that invalidates everything your heroes did the last time around

In most stories, victories, triumphs, and success are hard-won, bought with sweat, blood, and tears. Heroes fight, struggle, and strain to achieve their goals… which makes it especially cruel when a sequel invalidates everything they achieved. ‘Wizards 2’ (which has no characters or locations from the first film) starts with the kingdom getting into yet another war, and killing everyone from the first film.

In our own stories, doing a ‘all of it was for nothing’ sequel isn’t the wisest course of action if we want to keep fans satisfied; if a sequel makes the first pointless, who’s to say a second sequel will do the same to the first? It also retroactively harms the previous story, making rewatches or re-reads feel futile, as we know that everything we’re seeing the protagonists do will be for naught.

Consider having a grade Z mentor for your hero

In fiction, having wise, knowledgeable mentors is a standard story trope, both for helping guide the hero on the journey, and for explaining to the audience how the world and its various traits (such as magic) work. One thing ‘Wizards 2’ does well is invert that by having Caedmon – Tyor’s mentor – be not very wise, or even powerful. He’s a discount Obi-Wan who initially doesn’t even want to help Tyor due to feeling inadequate and not up to the task, but still takes up the mantle, even if his magic isn’t all that great (like turning straw into dung instead of gold).

In our own stories, having a mentor be a less-than-ideal candidate adds a unique spin on the typical student and master relationship, in that both don’t really know what they’re doing, and both have to learn and grow during the course of the story.

Consider not dumbing down your bad guys because they’re in a family movie

We’ve seen it so many times: Whenever the Chosen One (inevitably a young boy or girl) comes across an evil lord or a minion of the evil lord, said villains never just try to kill the child, instead gloating, mocking, and all but allowing themselves to be inevitably defeating in an embarrassing way (bonus points if they yell “This cannot be!” in the process). ‘Wizards 2’ is no exception, as the evil sorcerers Tyor faces are… well, either defeated too easily (Loki), give up too easily (Freya), don’t even try to take him on when they’re obviously more powerful (Donar), with only Zarz putting up an actual fight, but not taking obvious opportunities to kill Tyor when the moment arises.

Considering how family-friendly fantasy films wouldn’t take kindly to showing dark lords killing children, and making them incompetent makes the hero’s quest feel too easy, what’s a writer to do? I believe the answer is simple… don’t dumb down the villains. As an example, take what I consider to be one of the best villains ever to appear in a child’s film: Sharptooth from the 1988 film, ‘The Land Before Time’

In both of these clips, Sharptooth doesn’t mess around with Littlefoot and his friends. He sets out to eat them, no matter the cost, forcing Littlefoot and his friends to work together and rely on their wits to defeat him. When they finally achieve their victory, it feels well earned. Now, compare Sharptooth to all the villains on ‘Wizards 2’, and they don’t present any threat, and their inevitable defeats don’t feel earned at all.

Bottom line: Make your villains dangerous. Make them so determined to get their goals that they treat young Chosen Ones as adversaries to be disposed of, not played with, unless it’s to mess with their minds and weaken them.

Consider having characters in a fantasy treat our everyday objects as bizarre, frightening things

In fantasy, writers have the unique opportunity to take the ordinary and turn them into mysterious objects for their characters. A remote control becomes a summoning device for long-gone monsters. A cell phone becomes a holy device to contact the gods, and an ordinary piece of fruit becomes something bizarre and dangerous. In ‘Wizards 2’ ‘s most (intentionally) amusing scene, Tyor tries to turn a rock into a sausage, but accidentally creates a banana, which neither he or Caedmon recognize, and immediately throw away.

The biggest opportunity this trope presents to writers is letting us play around with everyday items, allowing us to either get a good look at how silly they can be, or, better yet, get an opportunity for some great humor. We, the audience, know the true nature of everyday, harmless objects, but characters don’t, and that can lead to some good laughs.

Consider limiting the number of places that must be freed/ bad guys that must be fought

‘Wizards 2’ takes the well-tread trope of having its characters go to three separate places to gather three separate things, and defeat three evil characters in each. Nothing wrong with such an idea, but the problem comes that the movie is only an hour and twenty minutes, and we don’t have much time to get to know each location before heading off to the next kingdom/item.

In our own stories, consider limiting the number of kingdoms to be liberated, dark lords to be fought, and items to be gathered. If there are too many, we risk rushing the story, never giving the audience the chance to slow down and take things in before the ending shows up. Perhaps there’s only one kingdom to save, or there’s only two bad guys, and only one item to find. The fewer we have of each, the more time can be spent on them.

Don’t have your Chosen One have everything given to him

An important part of any quest, Chosen One or not – is having the protagonists grow from their experiences, whether they end in success or failure. As in life, it’s okay to give them advice from other people in the story, but there’s a fine line between helping and telling them what to do in every situation that comes up. ‘Wizards 2’ has a problem with Tyor’s allies bailing him out, and even telling him exactly what he needs to do instead of letting him figure it out himself. While it makes sense to save his life when he’s in mortal danger, having a disembodied voice say “No, do this’ or ‘No, do that’ feels like cheating. It’s especially egregious at the climax, where Caedmon has numerous opportunities to actually fight and stop Zarz, but doesn’t, instead telling Tyor to arm himself instead of whacking Zarz or setting his robe on fire to distract him.

In our own stories, by all means, have allies help the protagonists, but also leave room for your main characters to try their own things and learn from their own experiences. They may reach victory more quickly if they’re shown the path, but it’s more satisfying for them to put in the effort and figure out the way to it.

Consider forcing your characters to defeat a villain without using violence

My favorite moment in ‘Wizards 2’ comes at the climax, where Tyor faces Duran and Zarz, but has a delima: if he kills them, he’ll become evil and join them, forcing him to try and find a way to win without resorting to violence. This presents an interesting challenge, where the key to Tyor’s victory lies in his wits, cleverness, and morals, instead of strength and bloodlust.

While audiences expect the climaxes of fantasy films to include fighting and weapons slamming into one another, trying something different can help make your story stand out. Having to do something other than violence helps authors come up with creative victories and resolutions, and I would argue that giving Tyor this situation is ‘Wizards 2’ ’s most creative moment… had the movie not proceeded to ignore it and have Tyor kill both Duran and Zarz without any consequences. Whoops.

Consider having the student become the master to her/his mentor

In an amusing twist, Caedmon becomes the student to the now powerful Tyon at the end of the film after defeating the sorcerers and reuniting the Powers of Creation, leaving the two set off on more adventures together. It’s not everyday we get to see this kind of inversion, especially when the mentor survives the story (can you imagine Obi-Wan becoming Luke’s student at the end of ‘A New Hope’? Me neither). Because of its uncommon nature, it opens up all sorts of interesting avenues and ideas for a relationship between two individuals, making the story as a whole more interesting.

The Takeaway

Be very careful choosing to do a sequel to a story that invalidates everything the protagonists did (but if said story wasn’t too good, you can turn this to your advantage). Regardless of what you choose, consider having your protagonists be baffled by everyday objects common to us, be mentored by a less-than-ideal mentor, and face off against villains who won’t treat young, ‘Chosen Ones’ differently than any other enemy, while limiting the number of those villains and their kingdoms to a reasonable amount to avoid rushing through all of them. When the time comes for the final conflict, consider forcing the hero to try and resolve it without killing, while not telling the protagonist everything he needs to do, and then switching positions between the mentor and the student to mix their relationship up