Jurassic World: Dominion takes place in a wild world with genetically modified dinosaurs on an island. It follows a group of scientists and animal experts managing these dangerous beasts while juggling their own lives. They meet new dino species and face risky situations that test their skills. Action, adventure, suspense- this series has it all. Perfect for any Jurassic Park fan, for sure!

Meet the characters from Jurassic World: Dominion

Ramsay Cole

Oh man, Ramsay Cole is that slippery corporate type who somehow smells like polished shoes and bad decisions — slick, polite, and quietly dangerous. He talks about “policy” and “partnerships” while scheming to cash in on whatever dino-disaster the day provides; you half-love and half-despise his commitment to spreadsheets. There’s this weird side to him where he’ll get oddly nostalgic about old field reports, like he actually read them once, and then immediately lies about his ethics — charmingly dishonest, honestly. At times he seems like he could be your boring uncle who runs a hedge fund, and then he nearly starts a war over a lab sample, so, you know, consistent as a weather vane.

Lewis Dodgson

Dodgson is pure corporate creep with a PhD in smiling while you scream — classic shadowy executive energy, all soft shoes and sharper agendas. He’s patient, methodical, the kind of villain who prefers a quiet phone call to a dramatic monologue, which somehow makes him ten times more chilling. He’s obsessed with the techy side of things, like genes and data, but also weirdly fussy about his tea — true story, I bet he has a favorite mug. Deep down he’s the guy who thinks rules are suggestions and ethics are a footnote, and he will absolutely whisper a friendly lie while handing you a poisoned contract.

Henry Wu

Henry Wu is the “mad scientist meets entrepreneurial pitch guy” — brilliant, slightly tired, and always convinced the next experiment will solve everything. He rationalizes like it’s a hobby: “We can fix this, we can improve it,” he says, while you watch a new hybrid stomp across a field, and you’re like, yeah, sure, Henry. He cares about creation in a weird, paternal way, and yet also files patents with the same hands, so he’s both tender and terrifying. Quirk: hums classical music when nervous and drinks bad instant coffee like it’s a ritual — somehow both scientist and suburban dad.

Maisie Lockwood

Maisie is this heartbreaking, hopeful human who carries so much — identity questions, trauma, and this fierce curiosity about what it means to be “real.” She’s brave in a quiet way, the type who fixes things with tape and stubbornness, and will stare down danger with a look that makes grown-ups uncomfortable. There’s sweetness too: she collects tiny, probably cursed souvenirs and has a habit of rescuing stray animals (and ideas). She can be wildly trusting and wildly suspicious in the same sentence, which just makes her even more real and messy and lovable.

Owen Grady

Owen is the muscle-with-a-heart guy who basically lives for animals and sarcasm — resourceful, stubborn, and emotionally invested in raptors like they’re his messy, feathered children. He trains, he fights, he mutters under his breath, and he looks cool doing all of it (leather jacket forever). He hates bureaucracy, loves simple solutions, and somehow always loses his shirt in the best possible action-movie way — not that anyone’s counting. Underneath the tough guy banter is this weirdly soft protectiveness; he’s rough around the edges but will sprint into chaos for anyone he considers family.

Ellie Satler

Ellie is the down-to-earth brainiac who punches through nonsense with science and a level stare — fierce, compassionate, and quietly furious about environmental destruction. She looks at plants and people with the same mix of curiosity and practical care; save her a bog-beast and she’ll lecture you for hours about root systems. She’s the moral center in a messy world, but she also has this dry humor (and a love of gardening that feels like therapy). Occasionally she gets unexpectedly sentimental — bring up an old field notebook and she’ll smile like a secret cartoon.

Claire Dearing

Claire starts off squeaky-clean corporate and then becomes this terrifyingly efficient, emotionally armored protector — like a bug-eyed CEO who learned how to wield a rifle and a baby carrier. Obsessed with order and planning, she keeps a planner that’s probably laminated and slightly water-damaged from one too many puddle-chases. She’s evolved so much (literally and figuratively) — from high heels to practical boots — but she’ll still judge your calendar if you run late. There’s a real softness under all that structure though; she loves deeply, loudly, and will absolutely flip a table for the people she cares about.

Alan Grant

Alan is classic grumpy-paleontologist gold: gruff, awkward with kids, and deeply, fundamentally in love with dinosaurs in a way that’s both scholarly and slightly like a dad. He mutters about sediment layers and then accidentally becomes the most sincere guardian figure — of course he does, this is his vibe. He’s suspicious of tech and modern nonsense, preferring boots, field notes, and a good hat (which he will guard like treasure). He can be blunt, cranky, and ridiculously soft at the same time; contradictions are his aesthetic.

Ian Malcolm

Ian is the chaos-loving, sarcasm-slinging mathematician philosopher who makes disaster sound like a punchline and then ruins your life with the truth. He’s all one-liners, unpredictable charm, and existential dread wrapped in a leather jacket and dramatic gesturing. Surprisingly tender in private moments (don’t tell anyone), he also has a habit of making grand speeches and then getting distracted by a sartorial choice. He lives for rhetorical flourishes and terrible metaphors, but somehow is always right — infuriating and irresistible.

Kayla Watts

Kayla is the tough-as-nails field operative with a heart that secretly melts at small things — very practical, very blunt, and annoyingly competent in every survival scenario. She can jury-rig a truck engine with duct tape and a prayer, but will absolutely roll her eyes at any romance subplot (and then maybe watch one in secret). She’s suspicious of corporations, loyal to strangers who deserve it, and has a scar story that she tells in under a minute and then refuses to elaborate on. She’s all business until she’s not, which is when she becomes quietly, stubbornly heroic.