Richard Crouse

CAST: Anne Hathaway, Ewan McGregor, Maisy Stella, Christian Convery. Directed by David Robert Mitchell.

REVIEW: Is Amblinesque a word? It’s not, but it should be because it’s the best way to describe “The End of Oak Street.” A heaping handful of classic Spielberg tropes, some genuine shocks and laughs, the movie feels like the kind of popcorn flick Amblin would have made in the 1980s.

Set in 1982, “The End of Oak Street” centers on unhappily married couple Greg and Denise Platt (Ewan McGregor and Anne Hathaway) and their kids, typical treen Brian (Christian Convery) and the Carl Sagan-quoting Audrey (Maisy Stella). They live lives of quiet desperation on Oak Street in the fictional town of Flowervale, Michigan. Greg has lost his job, but can’t bring himself to tell the family, so he delivers pizzas at night to keep a few dollars coming in. Denise dreams of divorce and is secretly writing a book about a frustrated housewife.

The film’s action begins with a simple question. “Is this the end of the world?” asks Brian (Christian Convery).

“I think our house, our neighborhood, our whole street has moved,” says Denise (Anne Hathaway). “I think our house is somewhere else now… in the past.”

With their suburban street transported to a prehistoric place and time, they find themselves battling bloodthirsty dinosaurs, who come complete with paleontologically correct feathers and fur. “Gather supplies,” commands Denise. “Grab anything you can use as a weapon.”

Their fight for survival brings them closer as a family but will their new family bond be enough to defeat the deadly dinosaurs who see the family as an afternoon snack.

“God’s not gonna let us die here,” says Brian.

“Greg, you only go to church at Christmas,” replies Denise, “and now you’re telling the kids God’s looking out for us?”

“What about the people who are out there getting eaten?” adds Audrey.

Call it “Jurassic Suburb” if you like, but no matter how obvious the references in “The End of Oak Street” feel, it’s not just a Valentine to the blockbusters of yesteryear. Director David Robert Mitchell mines everything from Spielberg ‘s big dino movies, “Poltergeist’s” suburban terror, and the sci fi of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” but grafts on a family drama that adds emotional investment and raises the stakes.

At a brisk 99 minutes it barrels along but allows time for character development of the core four before unleashing the dinosaurs. That combo—compelling characters and hungry dinos—goes a long way to hide the film’s absurd aspects. From the silly science behind the street’s move to prehistoric times, the dino sex and pooping, and some truly boneheaded family survival decisions, much of the story exists in a logic free zone that makes the Oak Street situation itself seem reasonable.

Still, “The End of Oak Street” is a cut above the recent “Jurassic” reboots, delivering a blast of late summer faux Amblin adrenaline on the big screen.