There is something inherently appealing about an exhibition devoted to the prehistoric oceans. Dinosaurs may dominate popular perceptions of the Mesozoic, but the seas of the Jurassic and Cretaceous worlds contained an equally extraordinary cast of evolutionary experiments: dolphin-shaped ichthyosaurs, long-necked plesiosaurs, enormous pliosaurs, armoured marine crocodiles, gigantic fish, ammonites and, later, the formidable mosasaurs. These animals occupied an ecosystem that was every bit as spectacular (and often considerably stranger) than anything that evolved on land. The Natural History Museum’s Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep embraces that strangeness enthusiastically. Running from 22 May 2026 to 3 January 2027, the exhibition invites visitors to descend imaginatively beneath the waves and encounter the predators that inhabited prehistoric seas. The Museum describes it as a combination of fossils, hands-on exhibits, “bite-sized science” and interactive experiences, aimed particularly at visitors aged eight and above. The result is an exhibition that is unapologetically populist, but which succeeds because the populism is generally backed by sound palaeontological storytelling. It understands that a spectacular fossil can be the beginning of a scientific question rather than the end of one. Its principal achievement is therefore not simply to show visitors some extraordinary extinct animals, but to make them curious about how those animals lived, evolved and ultimately disappeared. Of course, I had to visit and so the below post records my thoughts after visiting the exhibition twice.

The central conceit is wonderfully straightforward: while dinosaurs were dominating terrestrial ecosystems, an equally remarkable evolutionary drama was unfolding beneath the waves. This is an important corrective to the traditional dinosaur-centric view of the Mesozoic. The marine reptiles were not dinosaurs, despite their frequent appearance alongside them in popular culture. They belonged to several distinct evolutionary lineages that independently became adapted to life in the sea. The exhibition introduces visitors to some of the most spectacular representatives of these groups. Ichthyosaurs, for example, evolved highly streamlined bodies remarkably reminiscent of modern dolphins. Plesiosaurs developed an entirely different body plan, with four paddle-like limbs and, in some species, extraordinarily long necks. Pliosaurs were short-necked, large-headed predators whose skulls and teeth give them an appropriately terrifying appearance. Later in the Mesozoic came the mosasaurs, gigantic marine lizards that became some of the dominant predators of the Cretaceous seas. The Museum’s decision to present these animals as ‘monsters’ is therefore entirely understandable, particularly for a family exhibition. Yet one of the pleasures of Jurassic Oceans is discovering that the reality is more interesting than the monster metaphor. These were not simply oversized killing machines. They were products of evolution, adapted to particular environments and prey, and their anatomy contains clues about how they lived. Their teeth, jaws, limbs, eyes, body proportions and skeletons provide evidence that palaeontologists can use to reconstruct behaviour and ecology. That distinction matters because the best natural-history exhibitions move visitors from Wow! to How?

One of the exhibition’s strongest features is its use of fossils not merely as objects of visual spectacle but as evidence. The Natural History Museum possesses one of the world’s great palaeontological collections, and its fossil marine reptile material provides an extraordinary foundation for an exhibition such as this. The displays include genuine fossils alongside casts and modern interpretative reconstructions. The Museum’s scientific collections have also contributed directly to research into prehistoric marine reptiles, making the exhibition an opportunity to see specimens connected to a much broader scientific story. This distinction between fossil and reconstruction is particularly important for younger visitors. Palaeontology is necessarily an inferential science. What survives in the fossil record is rarely the complete animal. Soft tissues are usually absent, skeletons may be fragmented or distorted and many aspects of behaviour have to be inferred from anatomy and comparison with living organisms. A good exhibition should therefore encourage visitors to ask what scientists know, what they infer and what remains uncertain. Jurassic Oceans generally succeeds at communicating this process without allowing technical detail to overwhelm the visitor. One of the most effective strategies is the physicality of the exhibits. Visitors can touch a mosasaur tooth, fossil material and other objects, while tactile experiences include shark skin and replicas associated with dinosaurs and marine animals. The opportunity to touch coprolite (a fossilised piece of animal dung) is particularly effective as an educational device. It is memorable, slightly disgusting and scientifically meaningful all at once. For children, that is precisely the sort of experience that can transform a museum visit from passive observation into active discovery. However, despite the wealth of fossils the Museum hold’s it is a shame that more are on display within the exhibition.

Among the most fascinating animals featured are the ichthyosaurs. Their appearance is one of the clearest examples of convergent evolution. Although they were reptiles, their streamlined bodies, dorsal fins and tail-driven swimming make them superficially resemble modern dolphins. That similarity is not evidence that ichthyosaurs were closely related to dolphins. Instead, it demonstrates how similar environmental pressures can produce similar solutions in unrelated evolutionary lineages. The exhibition uses these animals effectively to introduce this concept. Ichthyosaurs also provide a useful reminder that marine reptile is a term that encompasses an extraordinary diversity of forms. They were not simply reptiles that happened to swim. Over millions of years they became highly specialised marine predators. Their enormous eyes are another striking feature. The eye sockets of some ichthyosaurs are spectacularly large, and the exhibition explores what this might tell us about their visual ecology. Such anatomical details are exactly the kind of evidence that makes palaeontology fascinating: an apparently bizarre feature becomes a clue to the behaviour of an extinct animal.

Fish were an essential part of Jurassic marine ecosystems and occupied an enormous range of ecological niches, from small schooling species to large, powerful predators. The Jurassic seas were home to many groups of fish, including ray-finned fishes, sharks and rays, and a number of now-extinct lineages that would look remarkably unfamiliar to us today. Some possessed heavily armoured bodies, while others had streamlined forms adapted for rapid swimming and hunting. Among the more spectacular predators were large predatory fish such as Leedsichthys, a gigantic pachycormid that could reach extraordinary lengths and is often regarded as one of the largest fish ever to have lived. Despite its enormous size, Leedsichthys was probably a filter feeder, using its specialised gill structures to remove tiny organisms from the water rather than hunting the large marine reptiles with which it shared the oceans. Other Jurassic fish occupied very different roles, feeding on smaller fish, crustaceans and other marine organisms and, in turn, providing food for ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs, pliosaurs and marine crocodile relatives. Sharks and their relatives were also important components of these ecosystems, continuing a lineage that had already been present in the oceans for hundreds of millions of years. Together, these animals reveal that Jurassic seas were not simply dominated by marine reptiles: they supported complex food webs in which fish were both predators and prey, contributing to an extraordinarily diverse underwater ecosystem. The exhibition provides an opportunity to consider how different Jurassic fish were adapted to particular ways of life, from fast-moving predators to enormous filter feeders, and how their interactions with other animals helped shape the structure of the ancient oceans. In this context, fish become more than supporting characters in a story dominated by ichthyosaurs and plesiosaurs: they were fundamental components of Jurassic marine ecosystems.

Sharks were already ancient inhabitants of the world’s oceans long before the Jurassic Period began (which is highlighted in a short film), and during the Jurassic they continued to diversify and occupy important positions within marine ecosystems. Unlike the enormous marine reptiles that dominate our popular image of Jurassic seas, sharks were generally much more streamlined and hydrodynamically efficient predators, equipped with skeletons made primarily of cartilage rather than bone. Jurassic seas supported a variety of sharks and their close relatives, including forms belonging to lineages that have subsequently disappeared as well as early representatives of groups with modern descendants. Their fossilised teeth are particularly important to palaeontologists because, unlike cartilage, teeth are composed of hard mineralised tissue and therefore fossilise readily. These teeth provide valuable evidence about the sharks that inhabited ancient oceans, revealing differences in size, shape and feeding adaptations. Some Jurassic sharks were probably active predators of fish and other marine animals, while others may have occupied more specialised ecological niches. The discovery of shark remains alongside the fossils of ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs, marine crocodile relatives and abundant fish demonstrates that they were part of complex marine food webs rather than simply occasional inhabitants of Jurassic waters. Their evolutionary success is particularly remarkable when viewed over geological time: sharks had already survived several major changes in marine ecosystems before the Jurassic and would go on to persist through further mass extinctions, environmental upheavals and the eventual disappearance of the great marine reptiles with which they once shared the oceans. harks also provide a fascinating evolutionary comparison with the marine reptiles featured throughout the exhibition: while ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs and other marine reptiles eventually disappeared, the shark lineage survived and continues to inhabit the world’s oceans today. Their presence in the Jurassic seas highlights the extraordinary longevity of one of the planet’s most successful groups of marine vertebrates and helps demonstrate that the oceans explored in Jurassic Oceans were dynamic, interconnected ecosystems filled with predators, prey and competitors, rather than simply a stage occupied by giant marine reptiles.

Additionally, the Jurassic seas were home to a remarkable variety of shark-like animals, including the flattened Pseudorhina, an extinct relative of modern angel sharks. Although superficially resembling rays, Pseudorhina was an angel shark and belonged to a lineage adapted to life close to the seabed. Its flattened body and broad pectoral fins would have allowed it to remain close to the bottom, where it could ambush or search for small fish and other marine animals. This body shape represents a fascinating example of evolutionary adaptation, as modern angel sharks have retained a remarkably similar appearance and lifestyle. Alongside Pseudorhina lived the more conventionally shaped Hybodus, an especially interesting prehistoric shark that survived from the Late Palaeozoic into the Mesozoic. Hybodus possessed a combination of sharp, pointed teeth for catching slippery prey and broader, more robust teeth that could have been used to crush harder food. It also had distinctive fin spines, including a prominent spine associated with the dorsal fin, giving it a very different appearance from most modern sharks. Together, Pseudorhina and Hybodus demonstrate that Jurassic shark communities were considerably more diverse than the familiar image of a streamlined modern shark might suggest. They occupied different habitats and exploited different food sources, becoming part of the complex marine food webs in which sharks, fish, marine crocodiles and gigantic marine reptiles competed for survival.

If ichthyosaurs represent convergent evolution, plesiosaurs demonstrate just how many different ways evolution experimented with marine locomotion. Their four paddles are among the most recognisable structures in prehistoric palaeontology. Long-necked forms such as Elasmosaurus have become iconic, although it is worth remembering that many aspects of plesiosaur behaviour remain subjects of scientific investigation. The exhibition’s reconstructed animals are particularly effective in conveying scale and form. A skeleton can be scientifically informative but can also be visually challenging for visitors unfamiliar with anatomy. Reconstructions provide the missing connection between the bones and the living animal. This is where the exhibition’s balance between specimen and interpretation works well. Fossils establish the evidence; reconstruction supplies the visual hypothesis. The final full plesiosaur fossil is reportedly one of the exhibition’s most impressive displays, and this is an appropriate choice. Plesiosaurs are almost tailor-made for exhibition designers: enormous, strange and immediately recognisable, while also providing a gateway into questions about locomotion, feeding, reproduction and ecology.

The pliosaurs provide the exhibition with another opportunity to challenge simplistic ideas about prehistoric predators. Their huge skulls and enormous teeth make them natural stars. It is easy to understand why palaeontologists and the public have long been fascinated by them. Yet the importance of the pliosaurs is not merely that they were large. Their anatomy illustrates how marine predators could evolve different feeding strategies and body proportions from those of ichthyosaurs or plesiosaurs. They occupy a different branch of the marine-reptile evolutionary story, and placing them alongside the other groups demonstrates that the prehistoric seas were not populated by one generic type of ‘sea monster’. Instead, there were multiple predator guilds, prey species and ecological niches. That broader ecological perspective is one of the exhibition’s most valuable contributions.

No exhibition with ‘monsters’ in its title could omit mosasaurs, although they do not get as much attention as they deserve. The Museum enthusiastically presents the mosasaur as the “T. rex of the sea”, a comparison that immediately communicates its status as a formidable apex predator. Visitors can even touch a mosasaur tooth. It is an effective piece of communication, although palaeontologically the comparison should be treated as metaphor rather than equivalence. Mosasaurs were not marine dinosaurs. They were giant squamate reptiles, more closely related to living lizards and snakes. They also belong primarily to the Cretaceous rather than the Jurassic, which highlights one of the slight tensions in the exhibition’s title. The exhibition is really about Mesozoic oceans, rather than exclusively Jurassic seas. For a general audience this is unlikely to be a serious problem, but scientifically it is worth noting. The marine ecosystems of the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous were not identical, and the evolutionary history of marine reptiles spans a much greater period than the word ‘Jurassic’ might initially imply. Nevertheless, the mosasaurs make an excellent climax to the story because they demonstrate that marine reptiles continued to evolve and diversify long after the Jurassic.

Marine crocodiles were among the remarkable predators that inhabited the Jurassic seas, although they were very different from the crocodiles and alligators familiar today. Groups such as the teleosaurids evolved from terrestrial ancestors and became highly specialised for life in marine and coastal environments. Teleosaurus, for example, possessed a long, narrow, tooth-filled snout suited to catching fish, while its body was protected by rows of tough bony armour. Some of these ancient crocodile relatives became so adapted to aquatic life that they would have been very difficult to imagine living on land. Their presence demonstrates just how diverse Jurassic marine ecosystems were, with crocodile relatives joining ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs, ammonites and enormous fish in the food webs of the ancient oceans. One of the exhibition’s highlights is the opportunity to feel the hard, bony armour of a Teleosaurus, providing a tangible connection to an animal that lived more than 150 million years ago. Marine crocodiles demonstrate another evolutionary experiment in adapting archosaurian lineages to aquatic environments.

One of the more interesting aspects of the exhibition is its inclusion of creatures that are less conventionally spectacular. Ammonites, fish, marine crocodiles and other components of the ancient food web help demonstrate that an ocean ecosystem is more than its largest predators. This is important because there is always a danger in a ‘monster’ exhibition that the smallest and least glamorous organisms become merely background decoration. Yet palaeontology is at its most informative when animals are considered within ecosystems. Ammonites and belemnites, for example, were important components of Mesozoic marine food webs. Fish occupied numerous ecological roles. The exhibition’s challenge is therefore one of balance: how do you make the visitor excited about an ammonite when a giant marine reptile is waiting around the corner? Its answer is to use short, accessible explanations and interactive elements rather than attempting to turn every specimen into a detailed scientific lecture. That approach will work particularly well for families.

The exhibition’s digital components are another important element. Short films and animations allow visitors to see extinct animals in motion, something fossils obviously cannot provide. These digital films contribute to the exhibition’s appeal, with the megalodon sequence singled out as particularly effective. If you have a keen eye, you may recognise some of them and I have produced a video of some of these which can be found at the very bottom of this post. How many series can you recognise amongst the clips? There is a legitimate debate within natural-history museums about how much technology is necessary. Digital displays can easily become distractions, particularly when visitors spend more time interacting with screens than looking at specimens. Here, however, technology serves a clear purpose: it reconstructs environments and behaviour that cannot be communicated by bones alone. A fossil tells us that an animal existed, however an animation can suggest how it moved. The important word is ‘suggest’. Reconstruction should not be mistaken for direct evidence. The best palaeoart is constrained by anatomy and scientific evidence, but it necessarily involves interpretation. Jurassic Oceans generally maintains that distinction while making use of the dramatic potential of digital media.

Perhaps the most obvious piece of family engagement is the exhibition’s Fierce Factor trail, which asks visitors to consider which creature deserves to be crowned the most ferocious predator in the sea. On the surface, this is simply fun. It also introduces a useful scientific question: what does it mean to be a successful predator? Is the largest predator automatically the most dangerous? Does having the largest bite make an animal more successful? Does speed matter more? What about sensory systems, prey availability or competition? The ‘ferocity’ concept is deliberately anthropomorphic, but it gives children a reason to compare anatomical adaptations. It would be easy to dismiss such devices as superficial gamification. That would be a mistake. Museums have to compete with a huge range of visual and digital entertainment, and an effective trail can encourage visitors to look more carefully at specimens they might otherwise walk past. It may have been designed for children but I enjoyed undertaking the Fierce Factor trail, make sure you speak to one of the Museum staff at the exhibition entrance to get your trail guide!

If there is a significant weakness, it is that the exhibition can sometimes prioritise individual animals over the larger story of marine evolution. The exhibition does not provide enough chronological structure, timelines, graphs, ecological context or explanation of how the oceans themselves changed. The Mesozoic oceans changed enormously over more than 180 million years. Continents moved, sea levels fluctuated, climates changed, new groups evolved and others disappeared. The marine ecosystems of the Early Jurassic were not simply the same ecosystems with slightly different species. A stronger chronological framework could have helped visitors understand this. For example, a large-scale timeline showing the appearance, radiation and extinction of the major marine-reptile groups would have been invaluable. Equally useful would have been a series of reconstructed food webs showing how different communities changed through the Triassic, Jurassic and Cretaceous. Such additions would not necessarily have made the exhibition less accessible. Indeed, they could have made the story more coherent. I feel that some of this may have been lost (along with the reduced number of specimens) as this exhibition is designed to be a touring one that the Museum can hire to other such locations, so it has been minimised for that reason. Additionally, the accompanying guidebook that can be purchased in the exhibition shop (and that I referred to in order to help write this blog), does contain some of that additional information. It is a shame it did not make it into the exhibition.

The exhibition’s scientific significance extends beyond palaeontology. The ancient oceans provide a natural laboratory for understanding how marine ecosystems respond to environmental change. During the Jurassic, atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations were higher than today and global temperatures were warmer, while much of the planet lacked the extensive permanent ice sheets characteristic of the modern world. The exhibition uses aspects of this ancient environmental context to connect palaeontological discoveries with questions about the future of our oceans. This is one of the strongest reasons to present palaeontology to a modern audience. The fossil record allows scientists to investigate biological responses to environmental change over timescales impossible to observe directly. However, there is an important distinction between ancient and modern climate change. Many past environmental changes occurred over timescales vastly longer than the rapid increase in atmospheric carbon dioxide associated with contemporary human activity. Consequently, the fact that marine organisms survived past climate changes should not be interpreted as evidence that modern biodiversity will necessarily cope with today’s rate of change. The Museum is right to emphasise the relevance of palaeontology to understanding future oceans, while the exhibition could perhaps have explored this distinction in greater depth.

The Museum recommends Jurassic Oceans for visitors aged eight and above. To me, that feels about right, but adults without a background in palaeontology should not assume that the exhibition is exclusively for children. Indeed, one of its pleasures is the number of lesser-known animals encountered along the way. Even visitors who know their Tyrannosaurus from their Triceratops may be less familiar with many of the marine animals on display. This makes the exhibition particularly effective for families with mixed levels of scientific knowledge. A child can be captivated by the teeth, A parent can become interested in convergent evolution, A palaeontology enthusiast can examine the specimens, and everyone can argue about which predator deserves to win the Fierce Factor. That layered accessibility is one of the exhibition’s considerable strengths. As before with Birds: Brilliant and Bizarre, I am upset at the level that information has been dumbed down, especially given that this is a ticketed exhibition. When you are at one of the world’s foremost natural history museums, you expect more, but there is a growing trend of Disneyfication across the Museum, which is seeing the science be removed from the storytelling of the exhibits and specimens. There are some excellent specimens and interactive elements but these opportunities are not always accompanied by the depth of contextual information that one might expect from a major scientific institution. There is relatively little detailed explanation of subjects such as evolutionary relationships, palaeoecology, geological context, extinction events, changing ocean chemistry or the methods palaeontologists use to reconstruct the lives of these animals. This is particularly noticeable when looking at the less familiar animals: visitors may encounter an impressive fossil or reconstruction but leave knowing little about why the animal was scientifically significant, how it fitted into its ecosystem or what evidence scientists have used to understand it. There is a significant lack of charts, timelines, food webs, size comparisons and other interpretive devices that could have helped explain the broader story of ancient oceans.

The Museum has made a substantial effort to make the exhibition accessible, which I applaud. Provision includes a large-print guide, audio recordings and transcripts, a visual guide, seating and tactile objects. Relaxed exhibition viewings are scheduled on the first Wednesday and Saturday of each month from 10:00 to 11:00, aimed particularly at disabled and neurodiverse visitors. This is important because the exhibition’s tactile elements are not simply optional entertainment; they provide alternative ways of experiencing geological and palaeontological evidence. It is recommended that visitors generally spend approximately 40 minutes to an hour inside the exhibition. That relatively short duration is worth bearing in mind when considering the admission price. Off-peak adult admission is currently £15, while standard admission at weekends, school holidays and bank holidays is £17.50. Museum members receive free entry. If you do visit, let me know in the comments below if you feel this is good value for money or not. The exhibition ticket also includes entry to the wider Natural History Museum after the exhibition, which substantially improves its value as part of a broader museum visit and helps speeds up your entry as the queues to get in can be very long! There is an especially useful free follow-up: the Museum’s permanent Fossil Marine Reptiles gallery, which allows visitors to continue exploring the subject after leaving the temporary exhibition.

The Natural History Museum has increasingly developed temporary exhibitions around the principle that specimens alone are not enough. Visitors now expect immersive environments, animation, interaction and strong narrative structure. Jurassic Oceans follows this model. It does not necessarily deliver the spectacular technological wow factor of some of the Museum’s previous major exhibitions. It lacks some of the interactive computer technology and show-stopping climax of the Museum’s Titanosaur exhibition a few years prior. The exhibition does not depend upon one gigantic finale. Instead, it builds interest incrementally through fossils, reconstructions, films and tactile experiences. Its success is therefore cumulative. One specimen leads to another question; one predator introduces another; one evolutionary adaptation provides a reason to investigate a different group. You end in the modern day, viewing the predators that can be found in our modern oceans, although this section of the exhibition feels rushed and most people seemed to walk right by it. What the exhibition is missing is a single narrative thread that ties everything together from beginning to end.

There are other limitations. The exhibition’s desire to entertain occasionally competes with its scientific ambitions, and visitors looking for a detailed chronological account of Mesozoic marine evolution may find themselves wanting considerably more context. But as an introduction to marine reptiles and the palaeontology of ancient oceans, Jurassic Oceans is an engaging, accessible and visually impressive experience. Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep is an enjoyable, accessible and visually engaging exhibition that succeeds in doing something important: it moves the prehistoric oceans out of the shadow of the dinosaurs. Its great strength is its ability to communicate the sheer diversity and evolutionary ingenuity of marine life during the Mesozoic. Ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs, pliosaurs, mosasaurs, marine crocodiles, fish and cephalopods are presented not simply as a parade of extinct curiosities but as components of ancient ecosystems. The tactile exhibits are particularly effective. Touching a mosasaur tooth or fossil material creates a physical connection with deep time that no textbook can quite reproduce. The digital reconstructions similarly help bridge the enormous gap between a fossil skeleton and a living animal. The exhibition is also commendably successful at making palaeontology approachable. It does not overwhelm visitors with jargon, and its humour and ‘monster’ framing should appeal strongly to younger visitors. The Fierce Factor trail provides an entertaining way of encouraging observation and comparison, while the accessibility provisions make the exhibition more inclusive. However, does the ticket price really reflect the target audience of the exhibition?

Its principal weakness is the relative lack of broader ecological and chronological context. The exhibition is stronger at answering “What was this animal?” than “How did the entire Mesozoic marine ecosystem change?“ A more substantial timeline and greater emphasis on changing ocean environments would have strengthened the scientific narrative considerably. Nevertheless, that criticism should be viewed in context. This is not intended to be a palaeontology textbook transported into a gallery. It is a temporary exhibition designed to excite curiosity, and on those terms it succeeds. Perhaps the most important thing Jurassic Oceans achieves is to remind visitors that the Mesozoic was not simply the age of dinosaurs. While giant sauropods walked across floodplains and tyrannosaurs stalked terrestrial landscapes, another extraordinary evolutionary drama was unfolding beneath the waves. The oceans were populated by reptiles that independently evolved streamlined bodies, powerful flippers, enormous jaws and sophisticated adaptations to marine life. Some became giants; others occupied specialised niches; many disappeared during successive episodes of environmental and ecological change. Their fossils survive as fragments of those vanished worlds, and the challenge for a museum is to turn those fragments into a story. Jurassic Oceans does that with considerable flair. It may not provide every answer, and visitors wanting a detailed account of Mesozoic marine palaeoecology will inevitably leave with questions unanswered. But perhaps that is one of the exhibition’s greatest successes. The best natural-history exhibitions do not simply tell us what scientists already know. They leave us wanting to know more. It is then up to visitors to find the answers to those questions elsewhere in the Museum, or further afield.

References

Dodwell-Williams, D. & Holmes, S. (2026). Jurassic Oceans: Monsters of the Deep. Natural History Museum: London, UK.

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