MarcusMaximus
06-15-2008, 01:15 AM
http://www.impawards.com/2008/posters/indiana_jones_and_the_kingdom_of_the_crystal_skull .jpg
Okay, so I finally broke down to go see this movie. Why would I, a major Indiana Jones fan, not be all that anxious about going to see this movie? Well, to be honest, I read the wishy washy reviews and figured it was a renter. (As it turns out, I was right). But it was Father's Day and my son wanted to take me to see a movie matinée and so we went. (I was this [--------] close to seeing the "Incredible Hulk")
So here are my thoughts:
Remember when you were a kid and you went on your very first roller coaster ride? It was an awesome experience, right? And you probably road that ride as many times as you could. And then the next summer comes along and they have a new ride. It's really the old ride, but with some changes and "improvements" that kinda sorta give ya the same thrill as the old ride, but maybe... It's just not the same. And over the years they just keep "improving" the ride - trying to make it better, but often - for some reason - hardly as good or as fun as the original ride. And thus you have it, the problem with all movie sequels - -
Indy Jones and the Kingdom of Crystal Skulls is very much like that. All the twists and turns of the original ride but - just not very much fun. And a bit overly contrived. Without spoiling any of the film's secrets, Indy IV follows Jones as he explores, yes, the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Along the way he picks up a scrappy biker named Mutt Williams (Shia Le Beouf), a sometime partner named George McHale (Ray Winstone), a nutty professor named Oxley (John Hurt), and a former flame named Marion (Raiders' Karen Allen). Amidst escaping mortal danger, Indy supposedly learns new life lessons, rekindles a romance long thought extinguished, and makes some new friends.
The red line starts at a warehouse in Roswell, New Mexico, dropping Indy into the nuclear age. In wide vistas, the low sun gives every gray cloud a thick orange outline, and the horizontal light makes every man, woman and polished fender seem to radiate with an interior glow. It's a great look, which is probably why Spielberg and his director of photography, Janusz Kaminski, stick with it even when the film leaves the harsh Southwestern sun and moves to collegiate New England. Our heroes, with glowing hair and brightly lit temples, shine with a light that wouldn't have been possible in the subterranean Temple of Doom. The Indy films were always best when their famous underground adventures were anchored by light, a lifeline which is either a few steps back or still overhead, streaming through a hole, lighting the staff of Ra, pointing the way from an opening that's ever in danger of closing. The new film revels in that kind of crystalline vision. Kaminski pokes holes in the jungle canopy to let airy columns flood the subjects and let the action happen in full view. In the film's centerpiece, a fantastic, absurd, high-speed chase through trees, Spielberg masterfully juggles five or six characters such that we always have a pretty good idea of who is where, even as they leap from vehicle to vehicle. This clarity seems to defy modern-action conventions that demand obscure, confusing visuals, and the result is thrilling.
Also great is Cate Blanchett as a tenacious, helmet-haired, thick-accented villain who makes her foes work for their gains. Shia Lebeouf plays a young tough who becomes Indy's sidekick, but he stays mostly in the shadow of Dr. Jones, where he should be, providing welcome backup when called upon. And feeding the film's potent sense of nostalgia is Karen Allen who reprises her role from Raiders, with more grins than booze.
Aside from the sustained invention of the jungle sequences, much of the movie feels like a recreation of something we've already seen, like the Vegas version of the Eiffel Tower. Half of the jokes fall flat, many of them dulled by sloppily—and it would seem unnecessarily—dubbed dialogue, and the closing credits appear gracelessly so that the film dribbles away without that big John Williams punch that even George Lucas knows to plug into the end of a Star Wars picture.
The film's biggest gamble is its finale. Extraterrestrial wonderment has long been Spielberg's trademark, but Indy's close encounters risk cheapening a myth that usually has a more Earth-bound scale, just as Spielberg's skinny aliens risked cheapening Kubrick's A.I. Of course, the Jones myth already has a precedent for otherworldly objects (the Ark), so why sneer at the appearance of an actual UFO in The Crystal Skull? It's pure Spielberg, and Lucas gets his own movie references: the film opens with a drag race straight out of American Graffiti, and in the climax, Indy steals Han Solo's most famous line.
Which settles a longstanding dispute: Indiana Jones is a plunderer of buried artifacts after all.
Okay, so I finally broke down to go see this movie. Why would I, a major Indiana Jones fan, not be all that anxious about going to see this movie? Well, to be honest, I read the wishy washy reviews and figured it was a renter. (As it turns out, I was right). But it was Father's Day and my son wanted to take me to see a movie matinée and so we went. (I was this [--------] close to seeing the "Incredible Hulk")
So here are my thoughts:
Remember when you were a kid and you went on your very first roller coaster ride? It was an awesome experience, right? And you probably road that ride as many times as you could. And then the next summer comes along and they have a new ride. It's really the old ride, but with some changes and "improvements" that kinda sorta give ya the same thrill as the old ride, but maybe... It's just not the same. And over the years they just keep "improving" the ride - trying to make it better, but often - for some reason - hardly as good or as fun as the original ride. And thus you have it, the problem with all movie sequels - -
Indy Jones and the Kingdom of Crystal Skulls is very much like that. All the twists and turns of the original ride but - just not very much fun. And a bit overly contrived. Without spoiling any of the film's secrets, Indy IV follows Jones as he explores, yes, the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Along the way he picks up a scrappy biker named Mutt Williams (Shia Le Beouf), a sometime partner named George McHale (Ray Winstone), a nutty professor named Oxley (John Hurt), and a former flame named Marion (Raiders' Karen Allen). Amidst escaping mortal danger, Indy supposedly learns new life lessons, rekindles a romance long thought extinguished, and makes some new friends.
The red line starts at a warehouse in Roswell, New Mexico, dropping Indy into the nuclear age. In wide vistas, the low sun gives every gray cloud a thick orange outline, and the horizontal light makes every man, woman and polished fender seem to radiate with an interior glow. It's a great look, which is probably why Spielberg and his director of photography, Janusz Kaminski, stick with it even when the film leaves the harsh Southwestern sun and moves to collegiate New England. Our heroes, with glowing hair and brightly lit temples, shine with a light that wouldn't have been possible in the subterranean Temple of Doom. The Indy films were always best when their famous underground adventures were anchored by light, a lifeline which is either a few steps back or still overhead, streaming through a hole, lighting the staff of Ra, pointing the way from an opening that's ever in danger of closing. The new film revels in that kind of crystalline vision. Kaminski pokes holes in the jungle canopy to let airy columns flood the subjects and let the action happen in full view. In the film's centerpiece, a fantastic, absurd, high-speed chase through trees, Spielberg masterfully juggles five or six characters such that we always have a pretty good idea of who is where, even as they leap from vehicle to vehicle. This clarity seems to defy modern-action conventions that demand obscure, confusing visuals, and the result is thrilling.
Also great is Cate Blanchett as a tenacious, helmet-haired, thick-accented villain who makes her foes work for their gains. Shia Lebeouf plays a young tough who becomes Indy's sidekick, but he stays mostly in the shadow of Dr. Jones, where he should be, providing welcome backup when called upon. And feeding the film's potent sense of nostalgia is Karen Allen who reprises her role from Raiders, with more grins than booze.
Aside from the sustained invention of the jungle sequences, much of the movie feels like a recreation of something we've already seen, like the Vegas version of the Eiffel Tower. Half of the jokes fall flat, many of them dulled by sloppily—and it would seem unnecessarily—dubbed dialogue, and the closing credits appear gracelessly so that the film dribbles away without that big John Williams punch that even George Lucas knows to plug into the end of a Star Wars picture.
The film's biggest gamble is its finale. Extraterrestrial wonderment has long been Spielberg's trademark, but Indy's close encounters risk cheapening a myth that usually has a more Earth-bound scale, just as Spielberg's skinny aliens risked cheapening Kubrick's A.I. Of course, the Jones myth already has a precedent for otherworldly objects (the Ark), so why sneer at the appearance of an actual UFO in The Crystal Skull? It's pure Spielberg, and Lucas gets his own movie references: the film opens with a drag race straight out of American Graffiti, and in the climax, Indy steals Han Solo's most famous line.
Which settles a longstanding dispute: Indiana Jones is a plunderer of buried artifacts after all.