Anne Hathaway and Ewan McGregor Fight Dinosaurs With B-Movie Absurdity in ‘The End of Oak Street’

Alci Rengifo

David Robert Mitchell’s “The End of Oak Street” is one of those curious hybrids where the director is trying to add artistry to a script, if not a genre, that basks in being lowbrow schlock. Mitchell is also channeling the ongoing obsession with nostalgia. Some reviewers have the gall to compare it to “Jurassic Park,” when this is closer to those straight to VHS knock offs one would find in the farthest aisles of a Hollywood Video. Because Mitchell is a skilled filmmaker, the movie does have some visual flare as it presents one of those likeable families thrown into a deep crisis, here involving murky prehistoric monsters.

The story is set in 1982 suburbia in, as the title states, Oak Street. Behind white picket-fenced serenity lives the Platt family. Denise (Anne Hathaway) is a housewife and aspiring writer who has just finished her first novel, with a narrative that apparently hints at hidden marital frustrations. Greg (Ewan McGregor) is the nice husband struggling to get by as a pizza delivery man. Denise is ashamed of his current status and so when he comes home at night, Greg has to remove his pizza delivery sign from the car. Their two kids are Audrey (Maisy Stella) and Brian (Christian Convery). They also have a cute dog, Starbuck, who irritates neighbor Mel (P. J. Byrne). At night, strange lights begin to flash nearby. A strange plant is growing in the Platts’ backyard that hasn’t existed for millions of years. One final flash and the family awaken surrounded by prehistoric plants and the distant roar of roaming dinosaurs.

Do not expect a sense of wonder or even awe in “The End of Oak Street.” This is a romp that belongs to the evolutionary timeline of famous B-flicks like “Carnosaur.” It pretends to be more since Mitchell is directing and serving as producer is J.J. Abrams, a total disciple of Steven Spielberg. Mitchell’s own work has been defined by a dreamlike tone, from the youthful poetics of “The Myth of the American Sleepover” to his 2015 breakthrough, “It Follows,” an atmospheric horror thriller where sex becomes the gateway for an evil entity (the sequel is currently in production). It has been eight years since Mitchell’s last film, the overly confusing L.A. neo-noir “Under the Silver Lake.” This new movie seems to be his attempt at trying out blockbuster aspiring material. The screenplay is pretty stripped down yarn. Early scenes have more of charm when exploring family struggles, like Greg confronting Denise over what her manuscript reveals about their marriage. 

Once the family emerges from their home and meets looming prehistoric threats, are the giant lizards metaphors for domestic struggles? Not at all. In true B-movie, drive-in theater fashion, the dinosaurs are nothing more than a convenient scream device. Since Audrey likes to read Carl Sagan, the family figures out their home has been transported to the past (though we don’t know if this is the Triassic, Jurassic or Cretaceous period). Now they face rather murky dinosaurs. Many of their appearances are at night, where we can barely make out what is attacking the neighborhood. Once the dinosaurs emerge into daylight, their designs are not the most impressive. The special effects team seems to be trying to stick to current research and so most of the dinos have feathers. Now, let’s say you are a dinosaur aficionado happy to see the ancient giants in any movie. On that score the film also doesn’t strive very much. We catch a glimpse of a Stegosaurus’s plates walking behind a house. Long-necked sauropods are CGI specks in the distance, except for a funny moment where Greg and Denise catch a pair mating atop a house. Little predators scurry about, eating a neighborhood cat. A Spinosaurus chomps on a car our heroes are trapped in, etc.

We get a few morbid laughs along the way, as when an unsavory character gets justly pecked to death by some species of flying dinosaurs. Mostly, there is a lot of running and screaming, though the characters never truly seem to be astounded that they have travelled back in time. Even after realizing what has happened, one of Denise’s immediate concerns is that the fridge doesn’t work, so it’s best to drink all the milk. We also never get a sense of what is going on with the other neighbors trapped in this same predicament, except for a girl named Jeannette (Jordan Alexa Davis), seemingly left orphaned and now under the care of the Platts. As tends to happen in these movies, only this family has apparently figured out how to maneuver around the Jurassic threats. It truly is odd how more grounded twists work better than the monsters, like the basement where Denise just happened to have her typewriter and pages getting flooded.

You might have a fleetingly entertaining time at “The End of Oak Street” if you shut off all logic and don’t care for the absolutely corny writing. The ending is meant to tug at our heart strings, despite not appearing to understand how time travel would work if you change events in the past. Yet, one senses Mitchell does not care for the details here. The whole idea is to chortle while characters run away from digital dinosaurs which tear off digital limbs. If you seek such an escape that harkens back to true B-movie antics, this could be the fix you are looking for. Other viewers familiar with Mitchell, McGregor, Hathaway and J.J. Abrams will be left mostly nostalgic for their better work.

“The End of Oak Street” releases Aug. 14 in theaters nationwide.