There's something vaguely Spielberg about The End of Oak Street, and I don't really even mean the dinosaurs, which look quite a bit different from the CG masterworks of the seminal '93 film.
The Platts are a conventional American family living in 1980s suburbia who are caught in a bizarre time anomaly that sends their entire neighborhood back to the prehistoric age. What follows plays like a more visceral rendition of '95 Jumanji. There's a very PG13 level of blood onscreen. But most of the anxiety derives from just how unceremoniously the dinosaurs are seen snacking on the neighbors. Without ever feeling like it's trying to outsmart the audience, the film drives home the idea that, yeah, if your street was sucked into a wormhole, the dinos would get you too--and probably without even needing to try hard.
Among many other things, the movie is a masterclass in filmmaking tension. Amidst a stampede of gigantic fangs, the camera is the real monster. This is part of what I mean when I say that you see the fingerprints of Spielberg--the guy who opened a movie with a brutal shark attack that never even had the shark peek above the water--all across this movie. You spend over an hour trying to skirt your eyes behind every bush, every garbage can, every corner that one of these feathery lizards might be hiding behind. Once the ball starts rolling, the tension never eases up until the resolution.
And if I do have a critique of the film, it's that the tension is almost too level. Such that I couldn't help but be slightly jarred when I realized we were closing in on the climax, which didn't feel notably more tense or dire than the previous hour of dinosaurs in the yard.
All the players, by the by, absolutely rise to the level of mania appropriate for being chased down the street by a timeless monster. Would that I had Ms. Hathaway's gift of invisibility and could headline a new blockbuster every other weekend and still disappear into a new movie at will. McGregor plays Greg (wait a second ...) like goofy dad, and not like a parody of a goofy dad, which makes all the difference. I recognized Christian Convery as the kid from Sweet Tooth, but mostly from kids I remember from my seventh-grade class. Maisy Stella does a good job at making Audrey believably sullen but not pouty. Props also to Miss Jordan Alexa Davis in a supporting position as the neighbor girl that poor Brian would only find the courage to talk to if the world was ending.
At the heart of this is scenario is a very familiar story about a family trying to prove its resilience against impossible circumstances. Denise is a woman who in some ways was in survival mode long before the dinosaurs started a-chompin'. Meanwhile, contemporary economics have sapped Greg of what little masculinity he had to offer. Both of them are wondering when they're going to stop putting off "that difficult conversation," while Bryan is asking Audrey if she thinks their parents are going to get a "you know what."
And I say familiar not as a putdown--this movie doesn't feel cliche, and there was at least one major surprise for me during the family's high-stakes vacation. Rather, that the movie keys in on very recognizable crucibles that families are forced to walk through in any era.
That is why, yes, this kind of high-concept story that invests in tension over psychology is absolutely the kind of movie I will always pay to see in theater. This kind of thing will never not be relevant. Not until keeping your family together stops being a willful act, or until dinosaurs stop being cool. I guess that's the other Spielberg connection for me.
And while I don't generally believe in spoilers, allow me to put your mind at ease on this one thing ... yes, the dog is in one piece by the end. You can rest now.
--The Professor
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