LEGO ruined my Jurassic Park screening with my son. How so?

Being a father and a film buff at the same time is a big responsibility. Raising a child requires attention — and so does choosing the right lineup for your evening screenings. If a father’s role is to reveal the mysteries of the world to his child, then film can be one of the elements that support that journey. Can it not? Things don’t always go the way we imagine, though. One of my dream father-son screenings was recently ruined. The culprit, at least in part, turned out to be some innocent-looking LEGO bricks.

Showing your child the films of your youth is risky and can be highly problematic. You never know whether your offspring will react to what’s on screen the way you hope. There’s no guarantee they will understand what their father wanted to convey through the movie. But sometimes the problem is something entirely different. Popular culture has grown so massive that it’s very hard these days to achieve the effect of surprise.

I’ve been drawn to subjects related to the past, history, nature, evolution, humankind, and culture ever since I was a child. When Jurassic Park came out in 1993, I found in that film a reflection of those fascinations, presented in an accessible, entertaining, and deeply engaging way. The movie made a huge impression on me. To this day, it remains one of the most impactful films I’ve ever seen. That hasn’t changed.

In my seven-year-old son I see many of the same traits. He, too, knows dinosaur and animal species better than most of his peers. He has plenty of figurines and books, and he finds extensions of his interests in films, shows, and games. I knew the day would eventually come. I imagined the moment when we would finally watch Jurassic Park together. I thought I would be his guide through the world Steven Spielberg created.

We’ve had our screening now. More lie ahead, because we plan to watch the whole series. But during that first joint showing of Jurassic Park, something happened that I never saw coming. It wasn’t me explaining to him what was happening on screen — it was him explaining it to me. The kid even knew the order of individual scenes, which left me a bit embarrassed. I wondered… Had something slipped past me? Had some intruder sneaked into my Netflix profile and watched the forbidden content while I wasn’t looking?

Nothing of the sort. It turns out the whole fuss had to do with LEGO. More precisely, with the video games based on LEGO sets and on the worlds for which they hold licenses. It came back to me instantly that my son has, for several months now, been an adept player of LEGO: Jurassic World. One of the game’s storylines recreates, beat by beat, the key scenes from the first film. Sure, everything happens with animated LEGO minifigure characters, but the voices are taken straight from the original actors. The scenes are practically lifted from the movie in their composition, supported by original vocals, sound, and music.

Yes — even John Williams’ score was nothing new to my seven-year-old. When the majestic main theme swelled during the helicopter flight, he wasn’t surprised, let alone moved. He also instantly recognized Alan Grant. The only thing he was curious about was how “that grandpa with the cane” would be portrayed. When the park gates opened, I once again felt a chill run through me, and when the brachiosaurus appeared, I nearly teared up. I’m not sure my son shared these feelings. For him, it was simply interacting with something he already knew perfectly — just in a livelier form.

Luckily, the fun wasn’t completely ruined. There were moments when he clearly flinched, because they were delivered in a more intense, direct way. Two scenes stand out here: the first appearance of the T-rex and the “kitchen showdown” with the velociraptors. They’re proof of how brilliantly these scenes are crafted — even after countless rewatches, they still work, because they’re infused with tension that won’t let you look away.

I’m aware that today’s pop culture operates under different rules than when I was growing up. Back then, to access a film’s content, you had to either watch it or read the book it was based on. Industry magazines rarely revealed the plot. Today the internet is overflowing with analyses, summaries, screenshots, memes, and — inevitably — spoilers. And LEGO contributes to this process, often revealing elements of a film before it even premieres. It’s practically tradition now that before major blockbusters come out, new LEGO sets spoil certain plot points, like a character’s appearance. Star Wars and MCU fans know this well.

My son loves the aforementioned LEGO game. He’ll probably unlock all its achievements soon. And I’ll admit — from a gameplay and mechanics standpoint, it’s an engaging and well-crafted product. But I do have a problem (as a journalist and, a bit, as a father) with how shamelessly the creators copied everything from the films referenced in each storyline. I have no doubt it happened with the studios’ blessing (Warner Bros. for the game and Universal for the films), but honestly — did no one stop to think how such exact plot reproduction would affect young viewers’ later experience of the movies?

I know, I know — I’m a boomer. After all, it’s LEGO, a separate entity whose mission is to play with pop culture. The vibe of these products and building sets has long been delightfully, consistently nonsensical. One should simply overlook it and enjoy the fact that the bricks and games allow the mythology of these brands to evolve.And while I understand all of that, I still can’t ignore the fact that this whole practice ruined my dream screening. So instead of a thumbs-up, I’m giving it the middle finger.