In theaters

JURASSIC PARK III. Directed by Joe Johnston, written by Peter Buchman, Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor. 90 minutes. PG-13.

Like so many current blockbusters, Joe Johnston’s “Jurassic Park III” isn’t so much a movie as it is an extended theme park ride – you wait in line, pay for your ticket and climb aboard to be knocked around in your seat. Nothing new about that – in fact, the film itself acknowledges its theme park appeal – but then there’s nothing new about the movie.

Working from a screenplay by Peter Buchman, Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor, Johnston (“Jumanji,” “October Sky”) does exactly what was expected of him and little more: He’s taken the reins from Steven Spielberg and cranked out a dinosaur movie that respects the franchise while not tampering with its multibillion-dollar formula.

For a film that comes as the third in a series, it’s the sort of marketing decision that can spell cinematic death – just ask anyone still doubled over from “Jaws 3-D” or “Poltergeist III,” two previous films based on Spielberg classics.

But Johnston is a director with a gift. He knows how to keep things moving and maintain interest in spite of the odds stacked against him.

“Jurassic Park III” gives only passing mention to the series’ last film, 1997’s chaotic “The Lost World,” before behaving as if it never existed. It features the return of Sam Neill as paleontologist Alan Grant, a man who makes the brave announcement that “no force on Earth or Heaven will get me back on that island” just moments before he climbs into a plane and leaves for Isla Sorta with a group of fools led by Paul and Amanda Kirby (William H. Macy and Tea Leoni).

The reason for Grant’s change of mind is simple – the recently divorced Kirbys have agreed to underwrite his research if he gives them an aerial tour of the island’s prehistoric inhabitants.

Of course, they have other things in mind, which I’ll leave for you, but none of it ever matters as much as getting everyone on the ground so they can become dinosaur food. As such, “Jurassic Park III” offers audiences a fair amount to chew on, especially since the raptors are back in action and smarter than ever, good ol’ T-Rex is stomping about but, frankly, looking a little shopworn, and two new species – the huge, carnivorous spinosaurus and the winged pteranodons – are up for sparking the action with their own brand of trouble.

Watching the film – a lean, well-oiled 90 minutes – one would think no technical advances have been made since 1993’s “Jurassic Park.” Everything looks the same.

But then, if you happened to see the recent “Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within,” you know there have been enormous leaps forward in computer animation.

So why don’t these dinosaurs look better? Since the film sets us up for “Jurassic Park IV,” maybe they will when that film soars into theaters.

Grade: B-

On video and DVD

SWEET NOVEMBER. Directed by Pat O’Connor, written by Kurt Voelker. 110 minutes. PG-13.

Pat O’Connor’s saccharine remake of the 1968 Sandy Dennis-Anthony Newley romantic comedy “Sweet November” is the sort of film that makes you wish November was the shortest month.

Like five minutes short.

The film, which makes the mediocre original seem like high art in comparison, is startling for a number of reasons, not the least of which is its premise.

It’s about a woman who takes a new lover every month because she’s confident that time spent in her arms will turn them into better, richer, more sensitive and loving men. How’s that for narcissism? The film stars Charlize Theron as Sara Deever, the aforementioned loose-living, free-wheeling, San Franciscan hippie who meets her latest conquest, Nelson Moss (Keanu Reeves), at the local DMV. When Nelson cheats on Sara’s test, the plot contrives to throw them together. The result?

In a matter of weeks, Sara’s feminine wiles do wonders in turning the arrogant, unlikable Nelson into a better, richer, more sensitive and loving pushover. The film, which will remind some of “Love Story” or the wretched “Autumn in New York,” follows Reeves’ excellent performance in “The Gift,” a good movie that showed, at long last, just how effective he can be when given a good script and a strong director. O’Connor doesn’t offer either.

He’s more interested in how puppy urine and poodles – not to mention cloying prima donnas and neighborhood transvestites – can emasculate a man and send one unrelentingly sweet film (not to mention its audience) into the throes of a diabetic coma.

Grade: D-