Jurassic Park did this most famously. The T. rex popped out of its enclosure, beat up some of a car, told Jeff Goldblum to shut up, and then beat up the rest of the car. The sequel, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, decided that if the first installment featured one battered car and was the highest grossing movie of 1993, it could be the highest grossing movie of the forever by featuring ANOTHER battered car, and a battered trailer. And some more battered cars when the T. rex was set loose in San Diego! The key to a Jurassic Park film's success was set: audiences will come if you first have the dinosaurs remove a man's transportation, followed by removing his limbs.
It's a pretty grand formula. The T. rexes were Hulk Hogan, the vehicles were Andre The Giant, and every goddamn day was WrestleMania. Then, at the video store, I spied a tape cover with "CARNOSAUR" written on the front. And though I was, and still am, an idiot, I know enough about words and movies to interpret what Carnosaur means as a title: It's a movie about dinosaurs, but it takes out all the boring, leaf-ey ones.
New Horizons Picture Corp
Jurassic Park hosted the party, and Carnosaur threw up all over the coffee table.
And when the finale came, and all of the deinonychus puppets had been slain, what appeared to challenge the king? A forklift. For years, teachers and books had tried to tell me that they had no idea how dinosaurs would act in the modern age. Bullshit. First, they'd eat the entire automotive industry. After that, well, it's anyone's guess, really. And this isn't just a recent breakthrough in paleontology. In 1960, we received a little treasure called Dinosaurus!, titled with an exclamation point because there's no time to be chill when your finale features a T. rex dueling with a mechanical digger.
I've tried a dozen times, but I can't say DINOSAURUS! without screaming it.