Say what you want about the Spielberg-lite creature feature “The End of Oak Street,” but Oscar winner Anne Hathaway makes us believe that she believes it’s “The End.”

A seriously silly movie that misses more laughs than it reaches for, “Oak Street” summons up Spielberg suburbia of the ’70s and ’80s but wastes the period piece settings on a flat, cliched genre pic about a bunch of feathery dinosaurs — something we learned about them in the decades since “Jurassic Park” — raising hell when time and tectonic plates slip and flip.

An overheard “NASA reports” strange “ripples” in the solar system on the radio, a neighbor marveling at a peculiar pre-palmetto plant that’s burst through her lawn, a high school kid who dreams of Cornell and studying with Carl Sagan, and a few flashes, booms and growls in the night and next thing we and the Platt family knows “wormholes” might be real.

Their 1982, polyester eart0 tone fashions, cathode ray tube world with its dead car brands — vintage Plymouths and AMCs abound — is uprooted and surrounded by beasts straight out of museums hunting them and their neighbors and their pets into an extinction level event.

And they didn’t even have to pull out their Jumanji board to bring all this down on themselves.

Writer-director David Robert Mitchell leaves most of his “It Follows” skillset behind for a pricey and dull horror lark testing you or your kids flashcard skills in identifying Allosaurus, Stegosaurus, Gargania and Pterosaurs et al, and yes I had to look them up.

The Platt parents (Hathaway and Ewan McGregor) have annoying neighbors (P.J. Byrne), Spielbergian smart-ass kids, and secrets. Wife and aspiring novelist Denise has the most benign one. Husband Greg is awfully anxious to skip family time for his side hustle delivering pizzas. Maisy Stella plays the Cornell hopeful daughter (the most under-written character) whose Sagan dreams are gone with the wormhole or whatever caused this. Christian Convery is whiny son Brian, who has school issues and a low fraidy-cat threshhold, unless his unruly cattle dog Starbuck is concerned.

One by one, those suburban concerns fall away as they take on prehistoric beasts with the occasional gun, a baseball bat, knives and the tween son’s bow and arrow.

Mitchell tries to keep the violence close at hand and his cast on the run. Hathaway “sells” this terrified fleeing better than anybody else. But for all the deaths, immediate and impending, the stakes never feel all that high.

The “science” is a sloppy afterthought and you can pretty much predict the story beats and deaths two or three scenes in advance, in some cases.

A few tight compositions in XCUs stand out, visually. Hathaway gives us a dose of disappointed wife and fiercely protective mom.

“Is this the end of the world, mom?”

She’s more convincing in answering that than Dad is in his “not going to let anything happen to you” cliche speech.

So while one can appreciate reminding the old master of his glory days tropes in the summer Spielberg tossed off “Disclosure Day” and tried to pass it off as epic. But there have been better Spielberg impersonations, better When Dinosaurs Attack movies,

And at some point, in between raptor and super snake and mega-gator assaults, we can’t help but recall “It Follows” was a one off, Mitchell’s follow-up “Under the Silver Lake” wasn’t Andrew Garfield’s finest hour and we’re allowed to ask of “The End of Oak Street,” “Is that it?”

Rating: PG-13, grisly violence, profanity

Cast: Anne Hathaway, Ewan McGregor, Maisy Stella, Christian Convery, Jordan Alexa Davis and P.J. Byrne.

Credits: Scripted and directed by David Robert Mitchell. A Warner Bros. release.

Running time: 1:38