Jurassic World – the third sequel to Steven Spielberg’s seminal classic in which John Hammond’s vision has entered the real world – entertains in fits and starts, but fails to produce real thrill and emotion. A decade open and the park’s initial interest has waned, spurring scientists to rear a new mixed-breed dinosaur. But when it mounts its own escape, chaos sets in, which sends buttoned-up manager Claire (Bryce Dallas Howard) – raptor trainer Owen (Chris Pratt) in tow – into the wild to save her two nephews. Swelled up and saturated with adequate CGI, Jurassic World is decent, if intermittent, fun that hits a few high notes. The script sufficiently adheres to a familiar beats (and checks off many pitfalls), before a neat third act shifts the film in the right direction. Pratt and Howard do their utmost with cornball dialogue and – in Howard’s case especially – clumsily written characters, which is more than can be said for the misused supporting cast. As much as it claims it’s not, Jurassic World is a louder, bigger sequel with more teeth that’s fun but severely lacking in palpable pumps of fear and suspense.