If Adventure Has a Name
Is Indiana Jones relevant any longer? I ask because the fifth installment of the series, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, was released last week. As of an article in Variety published July 2, it’s made $71 million domestically. That’s a problem since the estimated budget of the film was around $294 million. It’s too early to say it’s bombing as hard as The Flash, but those numbers ain’t good.
Everyone knows about the adventures of the iconic archaeologist/grave robber/Nazi puncher. Everyone can hear the familiar Raiders march in their heads, or hear the distinctive THWACK sound effect of Indy socking someone in the jaw. Raiders of the Lost Ark is one of the best pieces of pure entertainment ever produced.* But does Indy still matter to the culture?
Consider The Thin Man. It’s one of the best pieces of pure entertainment ever produced, an insanely entertaining romantic comedy/mystery that was a hit and spawned a number of sequels. The cinematic influence of The Thin Man is enormous, and any romantic caper with leads that are impossibly attractive and wildly witty owes a debt. It was also made in 1934, a lifetime ago, and I doubt the vast majority of people have ever heard of it. As much as it should be relevant, it isn’t.
Perhaps that’s the way of things. When we like a thing when we’re younger, it imprints upon us. Later, it fades in popularity, first gradually, then quickly. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is likely the last ride for our fedora-clad hero. Despite the elegiac tone of these opening paragraphs, I come to (mostly) praise this film, not to bury it.
During 1944, World War II is in full swing and so is Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford). Along with his pal and fellow archaeologist Basil Shaw (Toby Jones), he’s captured by the Nazis while in pursuit of the Lance of Longinus. Turns out that the Lance is a fake. It also turns out that Nazi scientist Voller (Mads Mikkelsen) doesn’t care all that much about it. He’s after bigger prey, one half of the Antikythera, a mechanism developed by Archimedes rumored to possess enormous power.
After a daring escape and a merry chase, Indy and Basil manage to escape the Nazis. From there, everyone lives happily ever after. Only…they don’t. We leap forward to 1969 and to a very different Indy. He’s finally retiring from teaching at his beloved Hunter College. He drinks too much, lives in a lousy little apartment in Brooklyn,** is sullen, withdrawn. Amongst the clutter are separation papers from Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen). It seems that the last adventure left for him is the one that nobody comes back from.
Only…it isn’t. Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) barges back into Indy’s life. She’s Basil’s daughter, Indy’s goddaughter, and she tells him that her father went mad researching the Antikythera before his death. She wants to pick up where Basil left off. Helena’s plan is to grab the half of the artifact Indy has and, using her father’s notes, track down the location of the other half. The bad news is that Helena’s motives might not be entirely pure.
Scratch that, the real bad news is that Voller has returned, along with a group of trigger-happy goons. They also want the Antikythera, and surprise surprise, Voller’s motives are definitely not pure. That kicks off a globetrotting adventure involving a charismatic Spanish diver (Antonio Banderas), a precocious preteen pickpocket (Ethann Isidore), ancient traps, and incontrovertible evidence that the world is far stranger than Indy can imagine.
For the first time in over four decades, Steven Spielberg didn’t direct an Indiana Jones movie.*** He’s producing, and the directing reins have been taken by James Mangold. That’s a good decision, as Mangold has a reputation as a thoughtful filmmaker who can handle big budgets. Here, Mangold has made something that mostly feels like a continuation of Indy’s adventures. There are still breakneck chases, puzzles connected to antiquity, fistfights, and shootouts.
Modern blockbuster filmmaking has a heavy reliance on digital effects. There’s a lot of that in Dial of Destiny, including a twenty-five minute sequence featuring a de-aged Harrison Ford. That concerned me initially, and I worried that a franchise that once had the best stunts and practical effects in the business**** would be overwhelmed by an exploited team of VFX artists. There are moments where the de-aged Ford looks like a video game character and moves with a disregard of gravity. But Mangold has a good balance between digital trickery, practical stunts, and on-location shooting. He doesn’t have Spielberg’s kinetic and playful command of action filmmaking, yet he’s clever and precise in his own right. Mangold’s action is creative and propulsive without being messy. It feels like an Indiana Jones movie.*****
The same goes for the script, written by David Koepp, Jez Butterworth, and John-Henry Butterworth. It’s tough to hate the story, despite the cries of insecure online trolls.****** Good writing focuses on conflicting points of view, and here we’ve got a hero who venerates history up against a villain who views it as a tool for conquest. The character motivations are always clear, and the legacy characters act like the same people we’ve seen in previous films. While Dial of Destiny isn’t anywhere near as funny as Last Crusade, there are a string of chuckle-worthy moments I enjoyed.
And yet…there’s one issue that nags at me regarding the story here. To discuss it, I’ll have to tread carefully around spoilers. Traditionally in the Indiana Jones franchise, Indy becomes faced with a choice regarding the Macguffin he’s going after. In Temple of Doom, he must decide whether to keep the Sankara Stones for fortune and glory or return them to their home village. In Last Crusade, he must choose whether or not he’ll relinquish his pursuit of the Holy Grail. In Dial of Destiny, we’re told early on about the fates of a couple of legacy characters. Then, once we learn what the Dial actually does, there’s an expectation that Indy will make a choice regarding those characters, or at least he’ll be tempted. That never quite happens. Plus, when the moment of truth regarding the Dial happens, Indy’s choice is somewhat made for him. It’s a problem since Dial of Destiny should sum up Indy’s adventures, the relationships he has, and perhaps even the legacy of the franchise. It’s a lot to expect, though we’ve always had high expectations for Indiana Jones. This flaw doesn’t cripple the film, but it’s a blemish all the same.
The cast shows up to play and takes everything just seriously enough without sneering at the material. I liked Phoebe Waller-Bridge as the roguish Helena. She effectively sells Helena’s slippery morality and quicksilver wit. As the evil Voller, Mads Mikkelsen isn’t bad. When he began acting in Danish films, Mikkelsen became famous as a comedy actor. Now, I’m not saying we needed a hilarious Nazi. If you look at his outstanding performance as Hannibal Lecter, Mikkelsen blends genuine menace with a subtle sense of humor. That blend made for a villain that’s intimidating and interesting, which I would have liked with Voller. Instead, Mikkelsen is playing your standard issue, “Evil uber alles” kind of Nazi, which, while accurate, isn’t super interesting.
A few years back, there was talk about recasting Indiana Jones and rebooting the franchise. Bradley Cooper and Chris Pratt came up. I think some kind of a reboot will happen years from now, but for the moment, none of this works without Harrison Ford. He gets Indy, and unlike Han Solo, Ford cares deeply for the character. For a guy entering his eighth decade, he does a good job of driving, punching, shooting, and being reasonably active (with the help of stunt performers and oodles of special effects). More importantly, Ford shows us Indy’s deep sadness, then peels back another layer to show us the daredevil adventurer awakened by the call of adventure. When Ford is a) given the right material and b) challenged by the right director/actors, you remember that he’s something more important than a film icon. He’s a damn good actor.
My kid has the great misfortune to have a movie nerd as his father. Perhaps against his will, of course he knows who Indiana Jones is and why he matters. His friends are different. As far as I know, all of them are aware of the existence of Indy. For many of them, though, he’s just a guy with a whip. I’m torn, because on the one hand, it pains me that a pop cultural icon that meant a lot will eventually fade into history. On the other hand, history doesn’t disappear. It can’t. It exists to be dug up, rediscovered, and its relevance brought back into the light of the present day. Indy knew that already, though. He just needed to remind us.
*Though not everyone recognized it at the time. Check out legendary film critic Pauline Kael’s dismissive review here. If there’s one thing that will never go out of style, it’s movie critics confidently telling the masses that the blockbuster they like Sucks, Actually.
**A lousy little apartment that probably rents for around two thousand per month these days.
***Why not? Officially, Spielberg was quoted that it was time for a new filmmaker and a fresh perspective. Just my two cents, but after making Schindler’s List, I think it was difficult for him to return the Nazis to being villains in a fun adventure. If so, I can’t blame him.
****These days, I think the best stunt work in American films is found in the John Wick and Mission: Impossible franchises.
*****A friend online mentioned that the best Indiana Jones movies involve him punching Nazis, and she couldn’t be more right.
******The same people yelling about Indy being too woke are the same people yelling about Mad Max: Fury Road for being too woke, so how seriously should you really take them?