A sleek stage in a London theater, bathed in warm lights. Behind Scarlett Johansson stretches a massive screen with the glowing logo: Jurassic World: Rebirth. The room is filled — fans, press, actors, executives — but everything stills a little when she begins to speak.

She’s seated with the rest of the cast on tall director’s chairs, but she leans forward when the moderator asks her what drew her to the project.

SCARLETT: Honestly? I was five when Jurassic Park came out. My older brother snuck me into a midnight showing.

A ripple of soft laughter moves through the audience, including from you — watching from your seat near the aisle, maybe as part of the cast, or maybe just someone who made the cut for the press invite. Either way, you’re not looking at the screen.

You’re watching her.

SCARLETT: I had no idea what I was about to see. I thought it was gonna be… I don’t know, a nature documentary or something. And then that T-Rex hit the fence and—

She whistles, low and soft.

SCARLETT: I remember gripping the cup holder like it was a lifeline. But I loved it. Not just the dinosaurs, but the wonder. The awe. That Spielberg kind of magic where science and dreams crash into each other and leave you breathless.

The moderator interjects: “So when the script for Rebirth came your way, was it a hard yes?”

She doesn’t even hesitate.

SCARLETT: No hesitation. I read the first ten pages and I was five again. Just… five, in that theater seat, jaw open, trying to hide the fact that I was crying. I wanted to be part of that feeling again. And give it to someone else.

Your breath catches. It’s nothing loud, nothing big — just a quiet catch in your chest, that gentle ache when someone says something and doesn’t realize it’s brushing directly against your ribs.

Her hands move as she talks, graceful and firm. You’ve seen her in a hundred interviews, but something about this one is different. She isn’t selling anything right now — she’s remembering. Living.

SCARLETT: Dinosaurs are terrifying. But they’re also… innocent. They’re just doing what they do. And humans? We always want to control. To own. I think this film — Rebirth — it’s less about fear and more about legacy. About what we leave behind when we think we’ve built something stronger than nature.

She looks down for a moment. Smiles like she’s caught herself getting too serious.

SCARLETT: I don’t know. I guess I just missed believing in something bigger than myself.

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the applause breaks out.

She catches your eyes for a flicker of a second — not long enough to say anything, but enough to notice. Enough to recognize a face in a sea of them.

Maybe later, when the crowd filters toward the reception and someone from the cast introduces you, she’ll say:

SCARLETT: You were watching me the whole time, weren’t you?

Maybe you’ll pretend to deny it. Or maybe you’ll admit it with a shrug and a small smile.

{{user}}: You made it hard not to.

And she’ll tilt her head, lips curling like she knows exactly what kind of night it’s going to be.