The Invisible Raptor
Directed by Mike Hermosa
Written by Mike Capes, Johnny Wickham
Starring Mike Capes, David Shackelford, Caitlin McHugh
Rated R
Runtine: 115 minutes
In theaters on digital December 6

by Cleo Tunningley, Staff Writer

There’s one thing you can say about The Invisible Raptor: it does exactly what it says on the tin. You want to see an invisible dinosaur tear some people to shreds? Well, buddy, that’s what you’re going to get. Director Mike Hermosa does not skimp on the beheadings, eviscerations, and eyeball gougings. Anyone who’s seen Jurassic Park knows that velociraptors can make excellent slasher villains. This film takes that concept and runs with it. 

Our titular antagonist, Chance the Raptor, breaks out of captivity at the movie’s start. For some reason, he knows how to read English, handle a gun, and use keys. Like many great horror icons, Chance is motivated only by his desires for blood and sex. Old cat ladies, dinosaur-obsessed little boys, millennial partygoers–no one is safe. Only two semi-competent amusement park employees stand in his way. The Invisible Raptor follows these unlikely heroes on their buddy-comedy quest to save the day.

Writer Mike Capes stars as Dr. Grant Walker, a washed up paleontologist who now works a humiliating job at Dinoworld. He raps to visiting children about velociraptor sex while pining for a better life. Even in his days as a hotshot researcher, Grant’s biggest discovery was a fossilized velociraptor butthole. Even his greatest achievements are demeaning. David Shackleford–recognizable from minor roles in Farrelly Brothers comedies and True Detective season one–plays Grant’s pathetic coworker Denny. He’s the kind of guy who dreams of being a cop, while still fantasizing about fucking girls he knew back in high school. 

The two go blundering through town looking for signs of the velociraptor–mainly piles of poop or vomit, or the occasional mutilated corpse. At one point, Grant holds a fossilized piece of raptor feces next to a fresh pile of poop like some kind of fecal profiler. “Raptor shit,” he confirms. Later, Grant fistfights the velociraptor, who in turn tries to shoot him. Grant’s ex-lover Amber (Caitlin McHugh) reenacts the Psycho shower scene with the dinosaur. I picked out these moments to try to illustrate something about this film’s internal logic. Essentially, there’s no room for CinemaSins style critiques here. It is proudly dumb, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Male insecurity provides much of the emotional thrust here. Both of our heroes want to “get the girl” that’s owed to them. Denny is tortured by penile shame he’s been holding onto since a pantsing incident in his youth, and Grant’s is constantly reminded of his failure to make it as a paleontologist and a lover. They are aggrieved men with fossilized bones to pick. 

References to beloved movies–and to one director in particular–are all over the place. To explain the raptor’s origin story, one scientist bluntly says that they “did a Jurassic Park.” One of Chance’s first kills is a boy named Elliott… who is wearing a red hoodie… and finds the raptor in his backyard shed, then leads it into his home with a trail of candy. Hell, the town they live in is even named “Schpielberg.” It’s not quite clear what purpose these references serve, beyond giving viewers a chance to point at the screen and nod in recognition. The film repeatedly breaks that vital rule: don’t remind people of other movies that they’d rather be watching instead. 

You would black out about halfway into the movie if you played a drinking game where you take a shot every time someone jokes about dicks or poop. Past a certain point, the relentlessly juvenile humor almost becomes charming. Gored bodies farting, piles of dinosaur shit and puke, Denny’s tiny penis–each (frequent) injection of humor is destined to crack the funnybones of dads and uncles everywhere. The movie bludgeons you until you feel like you have to humor it a little, if only because it’s trying so dang hard. You can’t help but smile, even if you’re kinda faking it. 

Ultimately, The Invisible Raptor has the feel-good and feel-nothing energy of a Disney Channel Original Movie–albeit one with blood, guts, and “fucks.” It has nothing on its mind but laughs and thrills, and it’s only able to deliver those if you really let your guard down. For a stoned evening in or at a gathering of friends, this movie could deftly play the noble and important role of background noise.