At the end of the block in David Robert Mitchell鈥檚 is a cul-de-sac with a telephone pole in the middle and wires radiating out like the cables of a big top. It鈥檚 a fitting touch for a breakneck, carnivalesque movie made with throwback showmanship.
Summer movies, of course, are not known for lacking in circus-like mayhem. But much of the pastiche delight of the 1980s-set 鈥淭he End of Oak Street,鈥� a mid-August surprise, is how it absorbs an Amblin-style blockbuster spirit and conjures, without winking irony or belabored homage, a summer thrill ride seemingly designed for the drive-in.
Mitchell鈥檚 breakthrough was the nifty 2014 horror which he followed up with an admirably ambitious but shaggily self-indulgent Los Angeles neo noir, But any indulgences in 鈥淭he End of Oak Street,鈥� about a 1980s suburban family whose neighborhood is transported through time, are for the audience. 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� is a bonkers blast.
It鈥檚 best going in not knowing anything about the movie鈥檚 twists, so tread carefully on the rest of this review. That鈥檚 not to say that an enormous amount of 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� isn鈥檛 immediately familiar, starting with the central family.
The Platts live in what looks like a San Fernando Valley neighborhood full of split levels and tidy little streets. Denise (Anne Hathaway) and Greg (Ewan McGregor) have two kids and a dog named Starbuck. Audrey (Maisy Stella) is a teenager and Brian (Christian Convery) is her younger brother.
But from the moment we meet them, during a neighborhood fair, there are obvious cracks in their all-American life. Greg is working a side job delivering pizzas while Denise is secretly typing up a maybe-aspirational novel about a woman dreaming of leaving her family. The kids have their own secrets, too. They suspect their parents are on the cusp of divorcing, and so, seemingly, do Greg and Denise.
Such a framework for sci-fi cataclysm is, naturally, Spielberg 101. But while 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� is sure to test and restore their familial bonds, Mitchell, who also wrote the script, takes a route that leans more into horror, absurdism and outright silliness.
In any case, yes, there are dinosaurs. It鈥檚 both skillful and a lot of fun how Mitchell teases them out. The first signs are mysterious. A flash of light. A strange exotic flower in a neighbor鈥檚 backyard. A giant mount of feces in another鈥檚. But soon, the Platts find that their neighborhood is overrun with primordial beasts and surrounded by jungle: Oak Street is suddenly a suburban island in a prehistoric world.
It鈥檚 a perfectly 鈥淭wilight Zone鈥� plot that inadvertently solves the problems that have plagued for 20 years. If those films have struggled to find an off-island setting, 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� instead brings the dino isle straight into suburbia. Encounters with raptors and worse transpire across front porches and shag carpets.
You could chalk it all up to good dumb fun. And it is mostly that, with set pieces built to make an audience groan in anticipation or cheer for the successful swing of a sledgehammer. But where 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� succeeds where so many others fail is in the sincerity it has for its characters. Ridiculous and over-the-top as the concept is, the Platts are firmly grounded. (Hathaway, especially, helps in this department.) The combination of an earnest family drama with CGI hijinks, plus increasingly nutty plotting, make 鈥淭he End of Oak Street鈥� a fairly nonstop hoot.
Composer Michael Giacchino does his best John Williams impression to match. But Mitchell鈥檚 film also increasingly detours from the Spielberg playbook. Only Mitchell would take a moment for a freaked-out Audrey to sneak into the car to pop a cassette in and listen to Steve Winwood鈥檚 鈥淰alerie.鈥�
And while it would be pushing it to say there鈥檚 that much underneath 鈥淭he End of Oak Street,鈥� its characters are united in keeping certain things secret out of fear that their spouse or kids or parents can鈥檛 handle the truth. The swiftness that the dinosaurs invade their neighborhood could be symbolic of any ecological disaster, but the subsequent challenges prove each member of the family can handle quite a bit more than expected 鈥� even when the parental assurance that everything’s going to be OK, like when a giant snake is slithering through their home, is laughably disputable.
It adds up to a gonzo good time that gives an old-school family adventure a darker, modern spin. Mitchell has quickly made suburbia his evident domain, where 鈥渋t,鈥� or something else, is sure to follow.
鈥淭he End of Oak Street,鈥� a Warner Bros. release in theaters Thursday, is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association for some strong violent content, bloody images, some strong language and suggestive material. Running time: 99 minutes. Three stars out of four.
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