So this is how my brain works. Last night I was making the rounds at the local thrift stores when I happened upon this very random Lost World Jurassic Park figure of Eddie Carr. Whoever that is. I was mildly amused, but not mildly amused enough to plunk down the three dollars and hoard it in the mancave for the rest of my life. But then, right behind it, I discovered there was not one, BUT TWO of them. TWO SEALED EDDIE CARR FIGURES. Again, whoever that is. But that’s what pushed me over the edge. One may have been mildly amusing, but two was ridiculously amazing.
I bought both of them. I mean, I had to. They had just survived the last seventeen years together intact on the cards. They had survived being opened, being scattered, being thrown out, being stored, being donated. And at the way this particular thrift store is organized, they had even survived making it to the same shelf together. At this point, splitting them up would be like finding a fossilized dinosaur tooth and yanking it up, while ignoring the entire jaw just beyond.
Besides, it’s like I’m rescuing these figures. Who else is going to buy it if not me? A parent who’s buying it for their dinosaur-loving kid? That would be like buying the Hope Diamond for your Bedazzler-loving kid. This is a rare artifact, and something like this belongs in the hands of only those with the specific knowledge and understanding of such things, like an archaeologist.
The Lost World: Jurassic Park came out in 1997, the much-anticipated follow-up to Jurassic Park. To me, it lacked the joy and wonderment of the first film, replaced with a sledgehammer plot about environmentalists and corporate swine squaring off over the fate of the dinosaurs. The target audience was no longer kids, but instead the fans of the darker and more cerebral Crichton novels. Except The Lost World wasn’t really like the book, either. No matter—The Lost World still ended up grossing a zillion dollars, even with mixed reviews and an admittedly-disenchanted Spielberg at the helm.
Bad plot and a phoning-it-in Jeff Goldblum aside, The Lost World commits a far worse offense in my book: a dog dies in the film. In a supremely hackneyed moment, the corporate guys somehow manage to bring the T-Rex back to San Diego (my head hurts). Maybe it’s supposed to be an artful nod to King Kong, but instead it’s just bad. Bad. And that’s when the T-Rex stomps through the suburbs and eats a dog for a snack.
What the hell, Spielberg? It’s kind of a taboo to kill the dog in the movies. The dog is always supposed to come back heroic at the end. The dog is supposed to leap through flames, lunge at the dinosaur’s neck, and save everyone at the end. The dog isn’t supposed to die.
That they released a complete series of action figures related to the Lost World is a true testament to evil money-making geniuses at Kenner Toys. Which brings us back to Eddie Carr and just who he is:
In the film, Eddie Carr is the balding field equipment technician who is unceremoniously killed by a pack of raptors somewhere halfway through the movie. Kids will really want an action figure of this guy.
Seriously, this guy:
You got to hand it to the evil money-making geniuses. They didn’t have much to go on. At least they packaged him with an adorable baby Triceratops, which even then, feels at odds with the also-included “Capture Claw Launcher.” You know, for capturing and launching that adorable baby Triceratops over and over. For the sadistic kid, I guess. For the kid who went to see the movie and didn’t avow to boycott everything related to it because a dog died in it.
And now I own two figures of this guy. Which I proudly tacked up on my basement wall side by side. I’m more a collector of ideas than of objects. And I just like the idea that I randomly found two of them. Which I then wrote seven-hundred words commemorating while managing to compare it to the Hope Diamond. It’s okay. It’s normal. It’s archaeology.