Dinosaurs are frickin’ cool. There’s no debate there, that’s a recognised fact – so imagine how stoked 90s dino-kids were when they discovered that 1993 would boast not one, but two movies featuring rampaging thunder lizards. Yes, that’s right – sneaking in under the wire about a month before Steven Spielberg’s Jurassic Park devoured all comers, was the Roger Corman produced Carnosaur, that hoped to ride on the scaly coat-tails of the Michael Crichton adaptation and score a bit of moolah.
But what could a low-budget, patchy, dino-flick offer up that it’s mega-anticipated rival couldn’t? Certainly not big stars (despite the recognisable presence of Diane Ladd) and obviously not game-changing digital effects by Industrial Light & Magic – but while Spielberg’s hands were obviously tied due to a family friendly rating preventing gratuitous gore, Carnosaur was free to bring on the meat and make it nice and bloody.
After withdrawing from public life to really get to grips with the notion of being a batshit crazy, mad scientist, Dr. Jane Tiptree throws herself into her work, while the Eunice Corporation slowly catches on that they have no clue as to what she’s actually working on despite funding her sequestered research. They know that it’s something to do with genetically modified chickens, but not even DARPA could predict that, out of one of the eggs transported from of her facility, a flesh-eating dinosaur would hatch who not only stats growing exponentially, but starts ripping sizable holes in anyone it comes across. What’s also pretty alarming is that the local population surrounding Tiptree’s lab soon start coming down with flu-like symptoms that suggest the scientist has set some real supervillain shit in motion.
Meanwhile, local burnout quarry watchman, Doc Smith, spends his time getting shit-faced drunk and grumpily protecting excavation equipment from waves of trespassing environmentalists. However, after he meets a protester with the rather unfortunate name of Thrush, both she and he realises there’s something more dangerous lurking out in the night than nature-upheaving digging equipment. It turns out that the voracious Deinonychus that’s been chowing down on folks is only the tip of Tiptree’s plan, which hopes to not only eradicate mankind, but give the planet back to the dinosaurs thanks to that pesky flu virus makes women violently give birth to dinosaurs, Alien style.
Realising that the fate of the human race is now in their hands, Doc and Thrush try to figure out what the hell is going on alongside the rapidly overworked Sheriff Fowler. But while the Eunice Corporation is figuring out how to profit from a DNA shifting virus and the return of dinosaurs, Tiptree has something of a unique security system in place to stop anyone discovering her apocalyptic secrets – a fully grown and exceedingly hungry T-Rex.
So to be fair, Carnosaur proves to be exactly what you’d think a Roger Corman produced dinosaur movie rushed out to beat Jurassic Park into cinemas would be like, and I suppose it’s down to personal taste whether or not that’s a good thing. However, despite its many, highly noticable flaws, I will freely concede that the movie contains many – if suspiciously familiar – aspects that suggest that the film could have actually been highly decent in more capable hands. Firstly, just because Corman’s name is on this thing, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s completely thick as dino-shit – after all, the legendary producer also gave us Joe Dante’s Piranha, arguably one of the best Jaws rip-offs around. For a start, it’s cheekily hired Diane Ladd – Laura Dern’s actual mother – to play the role of the dino-obsessed scientist and you can’t help but wonder what those conversations were like (Dern – “In my film I fight a dinosaur!”, Ladd – “That’s nice, dear.”).
Keeping an impressive straight face as she utters sci-fi gobbledygook, gives impassioned speeches about the superiority of dinosaurs and impregnates herself with a dino egg, she’s an undeniable port in quite an inconsistent storm – especially considering that none of the other characters manage to stand out at all amid the snappy teeth. Elsewhere, while it is cool to see a flick featuring prehistoric lizards feature buckets of the red stuff, watching jobbing actors cling screaming to a thrashing animatronic while they spit up blood capsules doesn’t actually hold up particularly well compared to the artistry of some of Jurassic Park’s more subtler, yet creepier maulings.
However, with that being said, there is a certain amount of perverse satisfaction that comes from watching a Deinonychus eagerly tear a bunch of handcuffed environmentals to shreds that a PG-13 rating is never going to allow.
Also, I have to say that while John Carl Buechler’s jerky, mechanical lizards are hardly a patch on Stan Winston’s slick, full-sized predators, the old-school effects nerd in me massively appreciates the on-set beasts, even if they do move like they’re heavily medicated.
However, from here, the enjoyment starts to plummet as a lack of coherent story, likeable characters and anything even remotely resembling tension makes what should be a low-rent dino-blast something more like an irritating chore. Raphael Sbarge’s slobby hero makes no impact whatsoever, while Jennifer Runyon’s eco-warrior wannabe stands out even less, and while Harrison Page’s sheriff gets a rather tragic story and a cool showdown with the Deinonychus, he’s shoved to the side in favour of less interesting characters. It’s a shame, because at times, Carnosaur actually manages to pull off some pretty cool shit. Playing the Crichton game of merging ancient saurians with modern tech, we have the rather memorable – if retro – sight of a T-Rex being held in place by disco laser beams, and later still, the film goes all Aliens when Doc squares off mano e dino with the tyrannosaur with the pincers of a skid-steer loader. Better yet, when cult movie deity Clint Howard isn’t having his head bitten off, the movie nails you right in the balls with an out-of-the-blue, downbeat ending so sudden and so unexpected, there’s nothing to do while the credits roll except try and process what the hell just happened. However, there’s no escaping the fact that when it isn’t pulling some genuinely crazy shit, the movie ends up being unrelentingly dull, and no amount of bloody muzzled dino-puppets can really hope to change that.
Old-school effects, regular splatter and one of the most unhinged, unexpected, down-beat endings of a shlocky 90s flick you’ve ever seen can’t quite help Carnosaur from being only a mild diversion from the movie it was trying to steal thunder from. But while Spielberg’s dinos effortlessly changed the face of cinema, all Carnosaur will inspire is for you to change the channel and then skip back for the good bits.
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