Dealing with a dreary line-up of movies in spring is one thing, especially when your time “on land” is limited like mine. Experiencing what turns out to be a mostly dreadful film given the almost twenty years of anticipation is absolutely unfortunate. Twenty-eight years after introducing iconic hero INDIANA JONES to a legion of fans, young and old, including myself, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas have teamed up again – for a fourth time – perhaps to combine their artistry but most likely just to consolidate their coffers – and are hoping to reintroduce our hero to a whole new world of moviegoers, who may be expecting a lot more than an old–fashioned serial adventure retread that was once the staple of expectations from the generation of their now grown up parents and even grandparents. Sad to report that a retread is all they’ll get.KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL starts off intriguingly enough with the old Paramount logo blending into our very first crisp images of refined, cleverly filmed, action shots by skilled Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski. What a promising beginning just as we’ve expected. Unfortunatley, for the most part, this sets up the rest of the film’s feel and texture, its one true commodity. Once you understand where the movie is heading towards – visually and intellectually - you pretty much have it all figured out. Yes, you can tell from these very scenes that the movie is going to go here, there and everywhere and pretty much nowhere in particular.
The visual flair is clearly Spielberg’s familiar territory and a comfort zone with which much of the time he stays in. Ever the craftsman, the big boy with the toys, or a child in a candy store to be more precise, Spielberg (certainly without any guidance from his immature giddy partner, producer Lucas) cannot help but move us along from one overly and inertly produced set piece to another, just as expected, but this time he has taken in his so-called art form to an elevated level where he cannot even seem to cohesively blend his vision with the content, and many of the scenes suffer as a result and even look cheap despite all the money and top of the line production values. Yes INDIANA JONES should be pastiche, an ode to yesteryears, but not a B movie in itself.
Yet, most of the film is a like train wreck, desperately trying to please its audience with gadgetry and somewhat imaginative ideas that if ever Spielberg and co. actually took the time to notice how badly a solid storyline could have helped, it would have not railroaded this much beloved franchise. Mind you, not that there is no story line. In fact, much to my dismay, there’s plenty of that in store, a lot of what-the-heck-were-they-thinking-of scenes just to get to the point, only to find out that the measly point is way far stretched beyond one’s imagination. Perhaps one grows cynical with age but what once worked in the SINBAD series of the 50’s is simply not going to be as effective in the age of TRANSFORMERS and Wii.
And while my patience was surely tested with every annoying ant (plenty of those), monkey (why monkeys?), groundhog (oh my! For real) and snake (even THAT ONE was enough), nothing quite prepared me for Spielberg’s way-out-there re-imagining of his favourite subject matter – aliens – and when the two genres ultimately combine – and yes, spoiler alert – they do so in an in-your-face matter-of-fact way, for which one has to have much patience and tolerance. The hokum that takes place on screen is beyond conceivable, even for a fantasy of sorts. Kind of reminded me of the final COLBYS episode when Falone is taken onto a spaceship by roadside aliens. Hmm, just like my life. While I am not asking for – or even expecting - realism here but it will help if I can fathom, even swallow, the fantastic premise. Here, it is pretty much no can do.
But how do the real life stars fare in this two-hour Disney-ride of a fantasy? Well, they don’t. First off, Harrison Ford is way too old for this sort of behaviour and it is hard to imagine anyone but a stunt man doubling for his action shots – of which there are plenty. While he still has charisma, there are several uncomfortable references to his age – mostly made by himself - if to constantly remind us that the filmmakers are also in on this anomaly, although I think they meant the joke. Because of this we get a stand-up INDY in the vain of the Hope & Crosby ROAD movies and last I checked, while Henry Jones clearly had a sense of humour, he was no Jerry Lewis, or even Dean Martin for that matter. Well, still he is the best of the part of the film, so go figure.
Now, Karen Allen, on the other hand, to put it mildly and kindly, seems to have been unearthed as an INDY relic herself and in the her time off from the big screen, I imagine that she’s simply forgotten to act, really act. Being herself at fifty plus on such a large screen does not constitute a welcome back to the club designation and does her no favours whatsoever. So uncomfortable on screen, in front of backlit blue projections, her scenes mostly remind me of improvisational-sketch comedy. Her action-romance bits are not quite natural and she seems uncomfortable through most of her screen time.
As Indy’s alleged son, Shia LaBeouf is serviceable but his rebellious Brando persona is more annoying than anything else plus he does stunts that are beyond implausible if uninteresting for much of the film. There are several other prominent actors on display: John Hurt (God help us, he had to play the eccentric), Jim Broadbent (luckily for him, only a minor detail in this film) and Ray Winstone (generic as can be) but the most awaited part belongs to She-wolf of the Russian baddies, Cate Blanchett, who starts off strong, in her villainous Russian accent, vixen outfit, gear and all. Yet soon enough, and for the rest of the film, any interest in her character wanes quickly as her the mystery & ironic charm loses steam. She is clearly having fun in the role but it is not transferable fun, at least not from where I was sitting.
If anything, there are remnants of John Williams once exciting score, reminding one why we fell in love with INDY in the first place. However these original sounds are only intermittent, between a newly orchestrated soundtrack of functional if generic music. Like the KINGDOM, its star and storyline, much of the film is old and worn out; if not sloppy then most definitely clunky. Don’t know about you but I want my INDIANA JONES redux.
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