Raiders of the Lost Ark remains a seminal genre film. The 1981 action-adventure film cemented George Lucas and Steven Spielberg's place as the world's best purveyors of mass entertainment, delivering a rollicking yarn, sweet romance, genuine laughs and non-stop thrills. Spielberg described the style as "Michael Curtiz meets Walt Disney," but Lawrence Kasdan's sharp, witty screenplay was more Casablanca than Cinderella- it created a hero arguably as iconic as Bogart in Harrison Ford's Indiana Jones and placed him into atmospheric, stylish 1930s locales, commencing with one of the greatest supernatural sequences of recent memory. Raiders inspired not just two memorable sequels in The Temple of Doom and The Last Crusade, but an entire subgenre of adventure films so hopes were high after 19 years for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
The year is 1957. The plot has something to do with Erich Von Daniken's theory that alien visitors gave ancient civilisations their technology, and that remnants of these visits remain in South America. It is difficult to continue deploying Nazis as the baddies after the war so screenwriter David Koepp has thrown in those dastardly Soviets to keep Indy on his toes.
And it works. At least, initially. The terrific opening sequence (featuring teenagers drag-racing American jeeps) sets an exciting retro tone. In fact, early scenes involving all forms of '50s clichés like nuclear tests and mysterious Government warehouses are executed with intelligence and considerable flair. Shia LaBeouf cements himself as a genuine star in a fun chase sequence around Yale University; the scene itself is well staged and directed with a Raiders-style reality.
But the film introduces too many characters and arcs to satisfactorily explore each element. Reliable Brits John Hurt, Jim Broadbent and Ray Winstone pop up in support, whilst Karen Allen makes a return as Indy's first (and best) leading lady Marion Ravenwood. Did I mention that Indy becomes a victim of Red hysteria? And that Cate Blanchett features as a Russian psychic, a plot point that seems to be later forgotten? Koepp's work seems such an amalgam of earlier screenplays that the material often seems enough for another two movies (for instance, the Soviet's obsession with telepathy felt more Himmler than Stalin).
The entire production feels rather toothless compared to the sharp wit of Raiders, the atmospheric darkness of The Temple of Doom or the warmth of The Last Crusade. The screenplay is funny in the back-and-forth between Ford and LaBeouf, but Spielberg's film fails to maintain any sense of believability as it soon descends into cartoonish and implausible set pieces: scenes involving Tarzan-style heroics seem better suited to a Star Wars film whilst the CGI creations have nothing on the real creepy crawlies of earlier films.
It is also irritating that the film spends so much time discussing the origins of the Crystal Skulls, and yet their actual powers remain frustratingly unclear. There is some guff about their being the "destroyer of worlds," but the plot leads to an ending that prompts more confusion and bewilderment.
The cast do what they can with the material. After the likes of Hollywood Homicide, Ford makes a terrific return to form with a sly and charming performance, fully of grizzled charm and surprising athleticism. LaBeouf makes for a worthy sidekick and it is fun to seen Marion Ravenwood again after 27 years. Unfortunately, Blanchett's campy shtick soon gets old. The original trilogy featured shaded and appealing villains of layering and dimension, epitomised by Paul Freeman's charismatic mercenary Rene Belloq, a villain closer to Indy than our hero would like to admit. Comparatively, Blanchett is a panto-style villain who feels like more of a pest than a real (or Red) menace.
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is a good movie; it is leaps ahead of the garbage that seems to litter the action genre these days (National Treasure¸ The Da Vinci Code, Fools Gold). But this is clearly not the film it could have been, and is the series' poorest entry. Disappointing.
The year is 1957. The plot has something to do with Erich Von Daniken's theory that alien visitors gave ancient civilisations their technology, and that remnants of these visits remain in South America. It is difficult to continue deploying Nazis as the baddies after the war so screenwriter David Koepp has thrown in those dastardly Soviets to keep Indy on his toes.
And it works. At least, initially. The terrific opening sequence (featuring teenagers drag-racing American jeeps) sets an exciting retro tone. In fact, early scenes involving all forms of '50s clichés like nuclear tests and mysterious Government warehouses are executed with intelligence and considerable flair. Shia LaBeouf cements himself as a genuine star in a fun chase sequence around Yale University; the scene itself is well staged and directed with a Raiders-style reality.
But the film introduces too many characters and arcs to satisfactorily explore each element. Reliable Brits John Hurt, Jim Broadbent and Ray Winstone pop up in support, whilst Karen Allen makes a return as Indy's first (and best) leading lady Marion Ravenwood. Did I mention that Indy becomes a victim of Red hysteria? And that Cate Blanchett features as a Russian psychic, a plot point that seems to be later forgotten? Koepp's work seems such an amalgam of earlier screenplays that the material often seems enough for another two movies (for instance, the Soviet's obsession with telepathy felt more Himmler than Stalin).
The entire production feels rather toothless compared to the sharp wit of Raiders, the atmospheric darkness of The Temple of Doom or the warmth of The Last Crusade. The screenplay is funny in the back-and-forth between Ford and LaBeouf, but Spielberg's film fails to maintain any sense of believability as it soon descends into cartoonish and implausible set pieces: scenes involving Tarzan-style heroics seem better suited to a Star Wars film whilst the CGI creations have nothing on the real creepy crawlies of earlier films.
It is also irritating that the film spends so much time discussing the origins of the Crystal Skulls, and yet their actual powers remain frustratingly unclear. There is some guff about their being the "destroyer of worlds," but the plot leads to an ending that prompts more confusion and bewilderment.
The cast do what they can with the material. After the likes of Hollywood Homicide, Ford makes a terrific return to form with a sly and charming performance, fully of grizzled charm and surprising athleticism. LaBeouf makes for a worthy sidekick and it is fun to seen Marion Ravenwood again after 27 years. Unfortunately, Blanchett's campy shtick soon gets old. The original trilogy featured shaded and appealing villains of layering and dimension, epitomised by Paul Freeman's charismatic mercenary Rene Belloq, a villain closer to Indy than our hero would like to admit. Comparatively, Blanchett is a panto-style villain who feels like more of a pest than a real (or Red) menace.
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is a good movie; it is leaps ahead of the garbage that seems to litter the action genre these days (National Treasure¸ The Da Vinci Code, Fools Gold). But this is clearly not the film it could have been, and is the series' poorest entry. Disappointing.
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