Before diving in, a little context. Once upon a Jurassic time, Steven Spielberg’s adaptation of Michael Crichton’s novel, Jurassic Park, launched a massive dinosaur franchise that grew across many more films, games, and TV shows. Its original trilogy became a cultural phenomenon, eventually paving the way for Jurassic World (2015) — a successful reignition of the hype for dinosaur movies.
In this revival, the newly reopened dinosaur theme park creates a hybrid specimen, the Indominus Rex, whose escape leaves the park in chaos. The film later inspired the animated spin-off: Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous (2020-2022). And this is where things get really juicy.
Camp Cretaceous follows the “Nublar Six,” who survive the Indominus Rex’s attack and become stranded on the island during Jurassic World (2015). It runs alongside the film’s events, enriching the Jurassic universe with parallel scenes, easter eggs, and cameos.
Although some people were put off by the animation style and the age of the characters — writing it off as a kids’ show — this series deeply understands a hard truth: life and death don’t wait for adulthood. And Darius, Yaz, Sammy, Ben, Kenji, and Brooklynn learn this all too well.
Its sequel, Jurassic World: Chaos Theory (2024-2025) turns its attention to the fallout of what the Nublar Six endured on the island, and to the grief that follows losing one of their own, all as yet another evil corporation drags them into fresh danger. This series asks and answers what life is like with dinosaurs as part of the new normal — something Jurassic World: Dominion (2022) failed to do.
Yes, this is a series about dinosaurs, but it goes beyond. It tackles issues of trafficking & exploitation, alluding to animal cruelty. It examines corporate corruption and profit over ethics/morals. Unlike the movies, the series leans into character-driven themes — survivor’s guilt, identity, and the messy task of rebuilding trust. Threaded through it all is a tender, emotionally mature queer storyline: characters navigating love, hurt, fear, and compassion with a familiarity anyone who’s had to grow into themselves under strain will recognize.
This is a fantastic animated series whose third season already earned the GLAAD award for “Outstanding Kids & Family Programming or Film – Animated” back in 2025, and it is now, of course, nominated once more.
This series is so well-constructed, respectful, and a stellar contribution to queer representation. It’s no wonder its fourth and final season has also been nominated for this year’s race — yet, despite the popularity of its movie franchise, and the quality of the series chances are you’ve never heard of it.
As a queer person myself, I’m often surprised by how unknown this series is within the queer communities I frequent. It seems outrageous to have such an incredible piece of representation that even people who are on the lookout for queer content aren’t aware of.
Its fourth season truly encompasses how much actions can be driven by past ordeals and how hard it is to break from patterns that, although born out of self-defence and survival, can harm our present interactions with those we love. Is there any merit in taking an isolationist route, or is it just easier? Is it best to ask for help even if that means dragging someone into a dangerous situation? How willing are you to help someone who doesn’t know how to receive it? Communication becomes its own battlefield, especially for our favourite queer couple, who try to find peace in the ache of loving someone while still learning how to heal themselves.
I love these characters, and I’m always rooting for their relationships to last, but these are flawed people who need to look inwards before they can truly grow. But rest assured, at its heart, the series champions chosen family as they face external pressures that constantly threaten to break their bond. And this mighty group refuses to go down without a fight, even if they don’t make it out unscathed.
Am I someone who believes dinosaurs are unironically and universally cool? Of course I am — this is my hill to die on. Do I also believe Jurassic World: Chaos Theory (2024-2025) is worth watching even if dinosaurs aren’t your thing? Absolutely. You don’t need to watch the movies to enjoy the series (and vice versa), though doing so will definitely enhance the experience — especially given how much better the series is than the newer films.
Whether they win the GLAAD Media Awards again and despite Jurassic World: Rebirth’s (2025) mixed reviews, Chaos Theory apologists are already speculating on a potential third animated series sequel — and yes, that includes me.
