The moment I heard about Jurassic Park, I knew it was a movie I had to see. I’m not sure how old I was (probably six or seven), but I knew that filling an island with dinosaurs was, perhaps, the best idea anyone had ever had. But it was not to be. PG-13 was deemed an inappropriate rating for a child of my age, so I had to be content with watching little bits and pieces on TV. I’m not sure when I finally ended up seeing it in its entirety, but anticipation had not spoiled the experience. It has remained, to this day, a movie that I always feel like watching. I can’t recite it from heart, but I immediately recognize most any quote from it. I frequently get the theme stuck in my head. I simply love it.


As such, it was an obvious choice for year two of this experiment, in which we each will be watching a movie we love. But will the experience of watching Jurassic Park 52 times in as many weeks spoil the movie for me? Will the sense of joy I feel when I watch Nedry taunt Dodgson disappear? Will I cease to enjoy Malcolm’s inquiries regarding the presence of dinosaurs on that dinosaur tour?

Or will things swing the other way? Will I sink into a pit of fandom so deep that I will not be fit for civilized society, unable to have a conversation without slipping in “clever girl,” “hold on to your butts,” or “spared no expense”? (I’m halfway there already.) Will John Williams’s score run a never-ending loop in my brain for all time?

Here’s my hypothesis on the effects that 52 weeks of Jurassic Park will have on me.


Almost immediately the movie will become stuck in my head. I don’t just mean the music, though of course that will be part of it. Every phrase, scene, character, piece of score will occupy most of my free thoughts. For roughly the first three months I will, incessantly, have Jurassic Park on the brain. I will enjoy this. I will derive great pleasure and satisfaction from each dumb Jurassic Park-related question I pose to myself.


What if  Jurassic Park were performed by owls? 

My stray thoughts tend to be a combination of things I enjoy and things I have been recently exposed to.  If I have recently watched, say, High Fidelity, I might think a little bit about it, but since I don’t enjoy it, it might be easily pushed from my thoughts by The Venture Bros. or Star Trek. Since I will both enjoy, and will be heavily exposed to, Jurassic Park next year, it will invade my thoughts.

This complete obsession with all things Jurassic Park should begin to subside after three or four months. I will, at this point, still enjoy the movie, but I will have tired of constantly thinking about it.


I expect to have Jurassic Park 90% or more memorized at the end of the year. I can more easily memorize things I enjoy (seems pretty basic, but worth noting). I can recite Jack Black’s dialogue from High Fidelity flawlessly, but can’t come close with Laura’s. Bringing a love for the movie with me from the start, I predict almost complete retention of the film’s dialogue by the year’s end.


I predict that by July or August I will no longer derive any real enjoyment from the viewing of the film. I will still enjoy the process of analyzing the movie at this point but it will be a chore, a chore I enjoy, but a chore nonetheless.

By November, my brain will begin registering sections of the movie as a blank, especially when viewing alone. It’s a phenomenon I experienced with increasing frequency towards the end of my year with High Fidelity. I will be staring at the screen with no other stimuli, and time will seem to just jump forward. I’ll go from 1:00:34 to 1:23:39 and not be able to remember watching any of the film in-between. It’s a little freaky, and I can only assume it is a result of prolonged exposure to the same material week in and week out. I assume that my love of Jurassic Park will not prevent this from occurring.


At the end of the year, I expect that I will still like Jurassic Park, but the warm, positive feelings I have for it will have been drained from me. I do not expect the movie to lessen in my opinion; only the emotions associated with it will change.

Now that I’ve laid the metal tracks of my hypothesis, we shall wait to see if the T-Rex of reality pushes the  SUV of my results off of a cliff.