I watched the latest installment of what is my favorite series. I went into the theater with the fondest hope that this would be a fitting ending of the series, and perhaps better than "The Crystal Skull". To say I was let down would be an understatement. I was about 30 when I saw the first "Raiders" in the theater. "Raiders" is hands down, the best action film I ever enjoyed. One of the few movies I paid to see more than once. So wildly successful, the studio ran that film for years after it was released. Then the VHS tape rental, DVD, etc. The rollercoaster action, pacing, characters, etc. Were perfect. It was unusual to me because the hour and 45 minutes flew past so effortlessly that it was like time was suspended. That, is supposedly, the crux of the plot of the latest film, but it fails to deliver. In fact, I was wondering when it would, if ever end!
On to "Dial of Destiny".
It is a pleasure to see Harrison Ford. He carries the film almost single-handedly. He is about my age, and I congratulate him on his fitness and fortitude. The first half hour or so uses "de-aging" and it rollicks along like an Indiana Jones film should. It is the best part of the feature. I wish more could have been done with the Toby situation, or that the producers had put more care into what was to come. The direction, sets, cinematography (though a bit dark and dismal) were perfectly serviceable. The CGI was acceptable, if you make allowances that 10 years ago, such would have been impossible. The opening scenes are shot depicting WW2. So far, so good.
Next, we get to the 1960s to find Indiana a depressed old man, boozed up in a Barc-A-Lounger. OK, where's this going? Precisely no where it seems, other than a degradation of the character we respected; all too common in the twisted world of Hollywood these days. God forbid we could have a hero, or at least a fictional champion to admire despite his flaws. Here, he is not only worn out by life, he is utterly incompetent, washed up and clueless. The antithesis of Indiana Jones. Until, of course...
Enter Waller-Bridge. Now, she'll make it all better! Without question the weakest part of the whole film. I never saw her before this. To give her a compliment-her diction is excellent. That aside, her character is grating, annoying, abrasive and wholly without scruples, compassion or morality. As Indy's God-daughter, she deceives him, treats him in a disrespectful manner bordering elder-abuse, and never misses an opportunity to show (and tell- for the dense) everyone she is the smartest, cleverest, most empowered and best-educated package ever to grace this or any other movie. There's no chemistry there; she resembles a smirky Olive Oyl with the personality of Bea Arthur. Her hobbies include insulting people, celebrating her womanhood, and picking up odd sailors, bar-flies and gigolos. It was very difficult to define her character. Successor? Comic Relief? Female Beloc? The Woman You Love to Hate? Later we find she has an unwashed urchin as a "sidekick" whom I presume is supposed to be her "Shorty". Good luck with that.
We also meet Mads Mickellsen, the successor to Herr Todt, who does a proper job of the cerebral Nazi now employed by NASA another bit of obvious casting as it seems THE role he plays. He plays it well. .His henchman is a bruiser worthy of the other Indiana Jones opponents. More or less there just to get his comeuppance. They seem to be somewhat underused, but the film is edited so frenetically and the pacing so uneven that I would love to see what was left on the cutting room floor.
We get Rhys-Davies as Sallah, a welcome cameo- and Antonio Banderas for a brief walk-on. Talk about squandering talent.. Why? Who knows? Who cares at this point!
There are multiple repetitive action scenes, all CGI laden, most requiring utter suspension of reality. These are interspersed with more mind numbing Waller-Bridge dialogue. Sort of like watching an episode of Golden Girls cut into a Super-Hero kid flick.
The script had to be written by a committee, and then shuffled and ad-libbed by everyone involved except maybe Ford who looks as weary as I felt by the time the TWO AND A BLOODY HALF HOURS is mercifully ended.
I will not divulge the risible ending, so as not to include spoilers for those who wish to see it. It is so out of left field, there were actual groans from the audience who was strangely silent previously. I recall a lit. Professor of mine once remarked in a writing class three tropes a good writer never uses. The "last page introduction of a suspect", the "wake up from a dream ending" and "time portal/travel". Not only have they been done, done and overdone, unless you are Rod Serling or Richard Matheson, they are lazy clichés of bad writers. Let's just say all of my professors advice must be passé, and our hero only comes to acknowledge his tender, whole, inner man with the help of a plucked chicken with a right hook. So be warned. Frankly, this installment makes "Crystal Skull" welcome by comparison.
So much talent-so much good will-so much money and effort. Wasted. I should have known when it was held back. They had plenty of time to do a proper job but I think Paramount allowed outside influences to gut the film of any possibilities it might have had.
On to "Dial of Destiny".
It is a pleasure to see Harrison Ford. He carries the film almost single-handedly. He is about my age, and I congratulate him on his fitness and fortitude. The first half hour or so uses "de-aging" and it rollicks along like an Indiana Jones film should. It is the best part of the feature. I wish more could have been done with the Toby situation, or that the producers had put more care into what was to come. The direction, sets, cinematography (though a bit dark and dismal) were perfectly serviceable. The CGI was acceptable, if you make allowances that 10 years ago, such would have been impossible. The opening scenes are shot depicting WW2. So far, so good.
Next, we get to the 1960s to find Indiana a depressed old man, boozed up in a Barc-A-Lounger. OK, where's this going? Precisely no where it seems, other than a degradation of the character we respected; all too common in the twisted world of Hollywood these days. God forbid we could have a hero, or at least a fictional champion to admire despite his flaws. Here, he is not only worn out by life, he is utterly incompetent, washed up and clueless. The antithesis of Indiana Jones. Until, of course...
Enter Waller-Bridge. Now, she'll make it all better! Without question the weakest part of the whole film. I never saw her before this. To give her a compliment-her diction is excellent. That aside, her character is grating, annoying, abrasive and wholly without scruples, compassion or morality. As Indy's God-daughter, she deceives him, treats him in a disrespectful manner bordering elder-abuse, and never misses an opportunity to show (and tell- for the dense) everyone she is the smartest, cleverest, most empowered and best-educated package ever to grace this or any other movie. There's no chemistry there; she resembles a smirky Olive Oyl with the personality of Bea Arthur. Her hobbies include insulting people, celebrating her womanhood, and picking up odd sailors, bar-flies and gigolos. It was very difficult to define her character. Successor? Comic Relief? Female Beloc? The Woman You Love to Hate? Later we find she has an unwashed urchin as a "sidekick" whom I presume is supposed to be her "Shorty". Good luck with that.
We also meet Mads Mickellsen, the successor to Herr Todt, who does a proper job of the cerebral Nazi now employed by NASA another bit of obvious casting as it seems THE role he plays. He plays it well. .His henchman is a bruiser worthy of the other Indiana Jones opponents. More or less there just to get his comeuppance. They seem to be somewhat underused, but the film is edited so frenetically and the pacing so uneven that I would love to see what was left on the cutting room floor.
We get Rhys-Davies as Sallah, a welcome cameo- and Antonio Banderas for a brief walk-on. Talk about squandering talent.. Why? Who knows? Who cares at this point!
There are multiple repetitive action scenes, all CGI laden, most requiring utter suspension of reality. These are interspersed with more mind numbing Waller-Bridge dialogue. Sort of like watching an episode of Golden Girls cut into a Super-Hero kid flick.
The script had to be written by a committee, and then shuffled and ad-libbed by everyone involved except maybe Ford who looks as weary as I felt by the time the TWO AND A BLOODY HALF HOURS is mercifully ended.
I will not divulge the risible ending, so as not to include spoilers for those who wish to see it. It is so out of left field, there were actual groans from the audience who was strangely silent previously. I recall a lit. Professor of mine once remarked in a writing class three tropes a good writer never uses. The "last page introduction of a suspect", the "wake up from a dream ending" and "time portal/travel". Not only have they been done, done and overdone, unless you are Rod Serling or Richard Matheson, they are lazy clichés of bad writers. Let's just say all of my professors advice must be passé, and our hero only comes to acknowledge his tender, whole, inner man with the help of a plucked chicken with a right hook. So be warned. Frankly, this installment makes "Crystal Skull" welcome by comparison.
So much talent-so much good will-so much money and effort. Wasted. I should have known when it was held back. They had plenty of time to do a proper job but I think Paramount allowed outside influences to gut the film of any possibilities it might have had.