Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008)

Written by Nick Da Costa | Sunday, July 13, 2008 |

Almost 20 years in the making and the internet reverberated with calls of, ‘the moment’s passed’, followed by punning titles like, ‘Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Colostomy’ or ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Erectile Dysfunction’. Time has not been kind to our loveable archaeologist, and now that Lucas and Spielberg have come to an agreement, the film is in the can and finally in cinemas across the country, were they right to be cynical? The results are frustratingly mixed.

It’s a shaky start, the film’s opening distracting from the nifty iconic fedora silhouette with a ponderous introduction to the Russian villain and the search for some strange remains housed in the same warehouse seen at the end of Raiders. It’s a baffling contrast to the barnstorming openers of the previous films and the Zimmer Frame image looms large in our minds. Thankfully the lull is temporary, eventually kicking off the first riveting action sequence combining the usual explosive choreography and clever visual comedy that takes the right digs at Indie’s waning years. The franchise has always been best when articulated through action and not words and that’s the major problem with this film.

David Koepp’s script is schizophrenic to say the least, unable to find the right tempo throughout the entirety of its run time. Moving from exposition packed scenes, most of which are inexplicably voiced by the hero, to breathless moments of cinematic joy; the narrative stuttering when it should be seamless. One of the saddest things about the film is that it contains arguably the best piece of extended action in the whole franchise. Combining multiple levels of action, rocket launchers, sword fights and giant ants to exhilarating effect and yet even this isn’t enough to hide the fact that without the obvious commitment Ford has brought to the role, the film could easily have fallen apart on numerous occasions.

Ford has always been the Gary Cooper of his generation, sharing the same understated charm and it’s clearly evident in his Indie persona, a perfect fusion of crazy heroics and exhausted vulnerability. With this film while he does have to do battle with a raft of terrible one-liners, for every clanger there’s a ‘C’mon genius’ and a combination of the right cobwebs, the right catacombs and that classic wry smile makes you a little nostalgic for the Indie of two decades ago. What’s most surprising is that he manages to take what could be seen as a cynical marketing move and turns it into a great dynamic, he and Shia LaBeouf as greaser Mutt Williams creating some of the best moments in the film. In fact it’s their spark that most recalls the energy of the original trilogy.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for some of the other characters, with Karen Allen’s reprisal of Marion Ravenwood saddled with the thankless task of flashing her still brilliant smile, and injecting the requisite amount of romance to proceedings. It’s a disappointingly passive performance with no sign of a sly elbow or knockout punch. Fortunately, as with Winstone’s duplicitous cockney and Hurt’s crazy academic, it’s a strong personality that pulls them through.

And that really brings up back to the central question. Is it enough for the film to just pull through; to coast on name and memory alone? And the answer lies frustratingly in the moments the film gets right. The explosive whip-cracks and punches, the uplifting music score, the reliance on practical effects over CGI, the red line global crisscrossing, and the classic movie serial morality are all present and correct, it’s just that they are perilously close to parody, the dreamy, and sometimes artificial cinematography of Janusz Kaminski accentuating this. We miss the WWII setting that offered such scope, providing a chaos in which brigands, spies, Nazis and the occult intermingled in a heightened reality. Those films had the classic ring of a David Lean film which the drab order of anti-communism, FBI drones and the looming cold war of this film just can’t compete with.

While the movie ends on a nicely handled air of mystery that puts the dynamic between Ford and LaBeouf front and centre, there’s a suggestion that if this franchise is to survive it needs for Lucas and Spielberg to reawaken the same unabashed childish glee that inspired the franchise, and bring with it a scriptwriter that can imbue the entire project with the sprit, energy and sense of inexplicable wonder that is characteristically Indiana and all too fleeting in this film.

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