Big Picture Big Sound

Jurassic Lark

Things can always be a bit challenging in the dregs of a given summer movie season because by the time August rolls around, studios have already put out their hot ticket items. This summer was dominated by "The Odyssey," which continues to pack houses, and "Spider-Man: Brand New Day," which was always anticipated to do well but even exceeded those projections. While they are different flavors, those two movies are large, grand spectacles that come with weight and gravitas. Neither one would ever be dropped in mid-August.

But, sometimes a summer movie doesn't need to come with a three-hour running time and lofty themes. David Robert Mitchell's "The End of Oak Street," in its way, is a prototypical summer movie: it's quick, dumb, and fun. Also, there's dinosaurs. What's a summer movie season without dinosaurs?

The 1980s-set "The End of Oak Street" opens in a fictional suburb called Flowervale. It's an idyllic neighborhood, with houses like the ticky-tacky boxes lining the street that Malvina Reynolds sang about in her song "Little Boxes" (more commonly known as the "Weeds" opening credits song). With the neighbors out enjoying the summer and socializing and playing in the streets, it would be impossible to think anything could possibly be wrong in this neighborhood.

Like any tale of suburbia, nothing is as perfect as it seems. Denise (Anne Hathaway) and Greg (Ewan McGregor) are a couple whose marriage is on the rocks. They haven't had any frank discussions with their daughter Audrey (Maisy Stella) and their son Brian (Christian Convery) about the state of their relationship, but the kids are old enough to sense the marital unease.

Outside of the home, things are starting to get pretty weird around Flowervale. There's unexplainable flashing lights, loud noises, and large piles of manure, the origins of which are unknown. The entire atmosphere of the cul-de-sac has changed to an entirely different climate. What's going on in Flowervale? Ah, yes. Dinosaurs - and a lot of them.

"The End of Oak Street" takes its time setting up the story, but once the dinosaurs enter the movie it turns into a full-on run-for-your-lives picture. The movie clocks in at a fast and easy 99 minutes, so Mitchell doesn't take a lot of time explaining the reason why everything is going on and, frankly, it's not very important. "The End of Oak Street" is a movie that knows exactly the kind of entertainment it wants to be: a silly but fun homage to an era of filmmaking gone by. It makes good on being just that.

It's going to be impossible for Mitchell's film to escape the Spielberg comparisons. Between the dinosaurs and the Amblin-esque DNA running throughout the movie, it's likely going to be accused of trying too hard to be a Spielberg riff (which is ironic because it's better summer entertainment than the movie Spielberg actually released this year). "The End of Oak Street" dares you to dismiss it as such, because it knows you will be swept up in the inherent silliness of Hathaway shooting dinosaurs with a gun.

"The End of Oak Street" is the fourth directorial effort from Mitchell. Since he began making movies with 2011's lived-in "The Myth of the American Sleepover," Mitchell has always demonstrated a careful approach to creating a sense of place and atmosphere. His first film conjured a nostalgia for a coming-of-age tale, "It Follows" moved with a slow dread, and the hazy stoner vibes of "Under the Silver Lake" are entrancing even when the movie doesn't always work.

It often feels reductive to say "check your brain at the door" when going into a movie that doesn't require heavy intellectual lifting. But, sometimes it's okay to want to turn the noise down and just escape into a movie. "The End of Oak Street" is the kind of dumb entertainment that works because it doesn't pander. It's never a movie with larger ambitions than it has already set up and it doesn't try to overexplain the logistics because there is no logic to be had. "The End of Oak Street" is a respectable nod to its obvious influences, and a giant wink at its audience. What more could one ask for in mid-August?