Jurassic World review: Colin Trevorrow's film brings you the most badass dinosaurs ever

We need heroes. Especially in this world that's steadily sliding towards insanity. It has banned the coolest instant noodle ever and made Kim and Kayne have sex 500 times a day to produce one baby. And now that Hugh Jackman has decided to hang up his claws and Salman Khan has threatened to quit Twitter, who will keep your faith in the great mysteries of creation intact?

Don't lose heart, the T-Rex is back and it's going to remind you that the world has witnessed greater atrocities than your boss or vegetarian sushi.

So in the film, Colin Trevorrow's takes you to Jurassic World, the Dubai of dinosaur lovers. There's blue shimmery sea all around, shiny golden domes and glass houses, all built to peddle high-end dinosaurs. And trust me, these are no ordinary, middle-class, unfriendly dinosaurs with oh-so-nineties muddy green hides. For example the Stegosaurus is the classiest Stego on the block - its skin has so many shades of green it would make Instagram filters slightly jealous. And then they are now the sociable kinds, totally cool with strolling around with kids on their backs. A little weight training doesn't hurt, right? A dino's gotta be in showbiz after all.

Then there is Diplodocus - more hippie than ever, chewing leaves, wading through streams, looking deliciously doped and totally giving a f*** about the uncool humans waddling around and taking pictures.

A screengrab from Jurassic World.

And these are no 1993-style Jurassic Park-ey dinosaurs mind you. They are literally handcrafted by the Salvatore Ferragamo of dinosaur makers inside the park. So a dinosaur gene gets a chameleon gene trimming or a cuttlefish gene patchwork, and whoa, you have the most exclusive one-of-a-kind dinosaurs ever! If Vogue wasn't so weight-ist it would have most definitely put one on their cover. Or Rihanna would have worn one to the Met Ball.

So this exclusive dinosaur mall gets the most usual suspects as visitors - a bunch of white tourists in their bermudas and vests, with a smattering of brown people in twice the amount of clothes, black people wearing colourful bandanas and Asian girls looking super chic. They amble around dinosaur mall walking through 3D images of dinosaurs, buying dino memorabilia and checking each other out.

And guess who is the mastermind of this shiny entrapment? Simon Masrani, named in the great tradition of Indian names like Hard Kaur and Jazzy B, owns this dinosaur workshop-cum-mall-cum-park. Now no one can point an accusing finger at our Prime Minister if he says it was an Indian who first started a dinosaur mall. Irrfan Khan plays Masrani and since we don't want to scar your perception of him, we won't say anything beyond that.

Masrani has employed Claire (Bryce Dallas) to oversee the marketing and production of dinosaurs. Fittingly, she sports an Anna Wintour bob and wears stilettos while seeking corporate funding for dinosaurs. I suspect this was a sneaky socialist suggestion that everything Marx said about capitalists being nutcases, is true.

And there's Chris Pratt looking all badass in fitted tees and cargoes. He plays Owen who apart from looking hot, also pets raptors.

Oh raptors, how could we forget them? So these annoying, shrieking, frightful things from the last two movies have undergone rehab, we think. Or let's just call it evolution. Of the many talents they have now acquired, one is the appreciation of a good looking guy. So they fuss and hiss a little, till Pratt looks deeply into their eyes and keeps staring. Or comes and caresses their cheeks... err, jaws. They run when Pratt asks them to, stop when he asks them do, we think they could go Pratt's peeche peeche across saat samundaars. 

However, if all this seems peachy to you, it isn't. So all these dino window shoppers are apparently bored and may find other things to fawn over. What if they declare dinosaurs 'last season' and someone starts a Godzilla Park instead?  Honestly, even I would flip. The worry drove the park owners to create a showstopper, you know a Lady Gaga of dinosaurs the world cannot and will not stop raving about.

The researchers actually deliver and come up with a smart, weird and a very Gabbar Singh version of the Tyrannosaurus Rex, it's called Indominus Rex. Give her a whip and she is a dinosaur lover's every dominatrix fantasy come true!

And then, like it is with such rebels, I-Rex (she is cool enough to deserve a nickname) plots her escape and breaks out. Hell breaks loose as I-Rex goes partying. She does American Navy Seals shots, chomps fat guards as starters and basically jumps on everything that comes in her way. No one can stop her. And since she is some 34-feet taller than Chris Pratt, he can't really smoulder and calm her down like his raptors. Poor guy. So what happens now, who saves America from I-Rex?

You'll see. And you'll get a new hero in your life.

The thing with Jurassic World is, you cannot dislike it. After all, the dinosaurs have evolved like our denims, so much more sexy packed into one creature. And, goodness, they are such fine trolls too - driving the humans up the walls with every roar, every snarl. After all, there are very few things in this world that you liked as a adolescent and you can still be proud of. One is a song called 'Tip Tip Barsa Paani'. Jurassic world's dinosaurs are the other.