Heather and I and a few friends went to see the new Indiana Jones movie last night. I’m going to preface this by saying that I grew up with the Indiana Jones franchise, and I loved all three of them so far. They were all pretty contrived and predictable, but hey, it’s Indiana Jones, right? If it actually stimulates any of that gray matter between your ears there must be something wrong.
So fully expecting to not have to think for the duration of the evening, I wasn’t disappointed. At one point I think a neuron fired up and said something like: “Seriously? Did he just do that?” and later “Did you really pay to see Shia LeBoeuf swing with CGI monkeys?” (By the way, depending on the spelling of his last name, his last name is French for “the Beef” or perhaps more appropriately, “the Ox”…glad I remember that from all those years of French!)
I wasn’t all that impressed with the story, and I’m pretty sure the whole nuclear blast at the beginning was just a chance for the CGI guys to go wild. At least we now know that Indiana Jones is indestructible, having been thrown more than a mile inside a refrigerator. Perhaps that’s a subtle metaphor for the franchise…it won’t be derailed by a Cate Blanchett’s Russian psychic or Indy and friends cascading over three very large waterfalls that would certainly kill any other professor of Archaeology. Having said all that, I was entertained for at least the better part of the movie, and I hadn’t expected any sort of grand, mind-opening experience when I bought the tickets. Now if the crystal skull had only contained a genie…
by Phillip Mackenzie
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