Yeah, The Lost World in book form was pretty great.
I was really thrilled for the movie, since the original was one of my formative film experiences. I devoured the book before The Lost World's release, and while I was aware they had made drastic changes for the screen, I was pretty primed. And I remember it playing a little worse than the original, but I remember thinking, "This is dumber, but it's an adequate sequel." The action and suspense was Spielberg-y (and much superior to the mundane run-chase-run bullshit of part III), Jeff Goldblum was a lot of fun, and it felt appropriately big in scope. When Goldblum's daughter drop-kicked that raptor, I remember thinking, BULLSHIT! but otherwise ready to leave the theater, having experienced a pretty fun summer afternoon. I was thirteen. There were dinosaurs. It worked.
And then they made the suggestion that the T-Rex was headed to the mainland. I just about shit my pants. Are you kidding me? I thought. This was not in the books. It was what I was dreaming of seeing. But slowly, I started to find out the reasoning behind the t-rex getting to the mainland, and it occurred to me how stupid it really was. And then as dumb development after dumb development surfaced (Godzilla joke! No one would dare shoot him!), I wanted to leave the theater. To this day, I think that was probably the ugliest example of a movie completely shitting the bed in the final twenty minutes. I just covered my dinosaur-loving eyes and muttered, "NO. Not like this. Not like this."





