4 The Hero in How to Train Your Dragon Says Not to Kill Dragons, Kills the Dragon King
What He's All About:
How to Train Your Dragon tells the story of the Viking village of Berk, whose inhabitants are constantly at war with the dragons who swoop in and destroy their shit and eat their livestock. But the hero of the movie, Hiccup, is a nerdy kid who manages to trap a dragon and tame it. The dragon even lets him ride it around, and the rest of the movie is about Hiccup and his pet dragon trying to convince the rest of the village that humans and dragons don't need to be at war. Dragons are people too!
"Who are they to judge me? They name their kids after bodily functions ... no offense."
So how does Hiccup and his pet dragon eventually get this point across? By heroically murdering another dragon.
At the end of the film, a hulking superdragon called the Red Death emerges to lay waste to everything in its path. And Hiccup, after spending the entire movie lecturing his Viking brethren about nonviolence and the benefits of working with dragons instead of cleaving them out of the sky, perforates the Red Death's wings and sends it rocketing to the Earth in a five-megaton dragonflesh explosion:
We gave you at least four free metal band names in the previous paragraph. You're welcome.
Granted, maybe taming that one wouldn't be quite as easy as scratching it behind the ears (which is how Hiccup got the last one to submit), but Hiccup makes absolutely no attempt to communicate with the Red Death in any way. In fact, he leads an army of dragons into battle to destroy it. Rather than implement any part of the stubbornly nonviolent mantra he spent the previous 90 minutes advocating, Hiccup wads all of his followers into a ball of howling righteous murder and flings it into the dragon's face.
Remember, training dragons is the whole point of the movie. It's right there in the title. Everything Hiccup does is in service to the idea that any fight can be resolved with patience and understanding, except for the one time he is forced to deal with one of the creatures maligned by the prejudices of his people. And what does he do? He immediately decides to rip it free from this plane of existence while accompanied by a triumphant orchestral score.
The moral? Nonviolence and understanding are great, as long as it's not difficult or dangerous at all.
3 Sarah Harding in The Lost World Says "Don't Disturb the Dinosaurs," Then Disturbs Every One She Sees
What She's All About:
In The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Sarah Harding is a paleontologist sent to study the dinosaurs still roaming around on one of bugshit crazy John Hammond's teeming prehistoric monster ranches. Jeff Goldblum leads an elite team of rescuers, including a pre-face-bloat Vince Vaughn and a teenage gymnast, to come to her assistance.
The instant they arrive, Sarah launches into a ham-fisted lecture about their shoddy professionalism as naturalists, emphasizing the point that they must act only as passive observers and not disturb a single thing in the dinosaurs' environment, despite the fact that the dinosaurs are replicated science beasts living on an island millions of years removed from anything they ever could have naturally experienced, and that "disturbing their environment" would have about as much effect on them as reorganizing a Hostess display would have on the Twinkies. She says:
"When you're out in the field, nothing we do can leave any room for people to say our findings are contaminated ... We use no scent of any kind. No insect repellent. No hair tonic. No cologne. We seal all our food in plastic bags. Our presence needs to be 100 percent antiseptic! If we so much as bend a blade of grass ..."
"If you were so worried about contamination, you wouldn't have had sex with a Jeff Goldblum character."
Sarah gets cut off, because we can only take so much self-righteousness in a movie about killer time lizards, but the message is clear: The scientific method is paramount, and noninterference is key. So, under no circumstance is anyone to interact with the dinosaurs.
Literally 30 seconds after she delivers that speech, Sarah starts petting a baby Stegosaurus, inadvertently enraging its parents and nearly forcing her teammates to have to kill all the animals before they gore her to death.
A child molestation 65 million years in the making.
That's right -- just after Sarah berates one of her teammates for having the audacity to light a cigarette and pollute the fragile ecosystem, she prances into the middle of a Stegosaurus family to paw at their infant's face, dousing them all in hate-sweating murder fury. And this isn't the only time something like this happens -- Sarah spends the entire movie shattering her golden rule of non-interaction. In fact, every major catastrophe in the movie is a direct result of her messing around with the dinosaurs in some way. Like when she steals the baby Tyrannosaurus to fix its broken leg:
"There's seriously only like one way this could possibly go wrong."
"OK, so two ways."
The Tyrannosaurus parents cut a bleeding rampage through the island that eventually spills out into San Diego, resulting in almost every character death in the film. Even the people not directly slain by Tyranno-wrath probably would have lived had they not been forced to run blindly away from the tyrant lizards' baby-seeking rampage. The movie's title should really be changed to The Weekend When Sarah Couldn't Stop Touching the Dinosaurs and a Bunch of People Got Eaten, because she causes about 90 percent of the calamities that unfold.
Vince Vaughn causes the other 10 percent when he screws with Pete Postlethwaite's weapon, but that's for another article.