Indiana Jones and the Curse of the Crappy Sequel

There's a line in the new Indiana Jones movie that perfectly sums up my feelings about the franchise. Indy and old flame Marion Ravenwood are arguing in the back of a Russian military vehicle about why things didn't work out, and Indy tells her that he's been with a lot of girls since they were together, but they all had the same problem. "They weren't you," Harrison Ford says, with all the panache of his "I know" in response to Princess Leia's love declaration in The Empire Strikes Back.

My dad first turned me on to globe-trotting archaeologist Indiana Jones by showing me Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy's initial 1981 adventure, and it quickly became one of my favorite movies and a staple of my childhood. Now, after seeing Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, the latest wretched abomination of American pop culture from Steven Spielberg and George Lucas (Star Wars Episodes 1-3, Transformers), it's becoming clearer and clearer that Raiders of the Lost Ark is a shark in a fish pond.

Raiders is exactly what its reissue tagline said it was: The return of the great adventure. It's an expertly crafted homage to adventure serials of the '30s and '40s, with equal doses nostalgia and non-stop action. It's the ideal role for Harrison Ford, the ideal rugged and resourceful action hero. It's chock full of memorable stuff, including technical elements (John Williams' score, the map transitions, breakneck pacing, exemplary execution of action sequences) and scenes (Indy running from the giant rolling boulder, Indy shooting the knife-wielder, the Nazis melting after opening the Ark in the finale). Just like Jaws reclaimed craft and character as integral parts of suspense films, Raiders of the Lost Ark bucked the '70s trend of high-concept disaster movies and made thrillers thrilling again.

The sequels, I'm really sorry to say, just don't measure up. 1984's Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was big on extravagant action set-pieces. It was also big on graphic violence and cruelty. I know many people who like 1989's Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade the most, but even they'll tell you that tired, ambitious blockbuster isn't half the movie Raiders is.

This new movie is the worst yet, a desperate attempt to salvage Ford's career and a deliberate avoidance of new ideas by both Spielberg and Lucas. What we have is an Indiana Jones flash-forward that deals with aliens (popular Spielberg topic No. 1) and ominously evil authority figures (popular Spielberg topic No. 2) in a specific historical time period (the late 1950s, popular Spielberg topic No. 3). Before the two hours are up, we witness the return of Ravenwood; learn what happened to Indy's curiously Scottish father; discover where exactly that warehouse at the end of Raiders is located; watch a prolonged truck chase reminiscent of earlier adventures; and notice at least two memorials for the late Denholm Elliott's adorably bumbling sidekick Marcus Brody. If Spielberg and Lucas are trying to conjure up warm memories of the first three films the same way Raiders conjured up warm memories of breathless adventure serials, they're failing miserably.

The story has something to do with returning a crystal alien skull to a lost city in the Amazon, and gaining the knowledge that the aliens gathered. In the tradition of the finales of Raiders and Last Crusade, Cate Blanchett's villainous Soviet colonel gets too greedy for the mystical-power-of-the-moment and meets a grotesque yet bravura end.

Blanchett's plight is actually one of the aspects of the movie that interested me the most. In one corner, we have Blanchett, an extremely gifted actress who never does bad blockbusters. In the other corner, we have Shia LaBeouf, the inexplicably popular young star who only does bad blockbusters. Blanchett loses this fight, thanks in big part (SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS) to a ridiculous subplot that establishes LaBeouf's character as Indy's son, with subtle and horrifying hints that LaBeouf's going to take over the franchise sprinkled throughout. It calls to mind the ridiculous subplot of Superman Returns concerning Lois Lane's son, who may or may not have Kryptonian bloodlines.

Actually, "ridiculous" is a great way to describe Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I understand the dynamics of Indiana Jones, that over-the-top chase sequences and outlandish storylines are par for the course, with dramatic elements placed at a premium. It's all about how the thing moves, and how white-knuckled you are by the end of the show. Raiders of the Lost Ark set those guidelines, but it did so with ingenuity, excitement and most importantly, heart. The fourth adventure is a nonsensical CGI bender with little care for what made this character worthy of sequels in the first place.

Even at 65, Ford cuts a fine figure as Indiana Jones. He still delivers those quips as sharply as he cracks a bullwhip. It's fascinating to me, though, that in a career that's spanned four decades and countless inventive horizons, Spielberg just won't let Indiana Jones go. An all-time great filmmaker, renowned for the ways he chooses to tell stories, has decided to tell the same story over and over again. I'm sure it doesn't help that Lucas, who majored in sucking the magic out of movies at USC, is his co-producer.

With every sequel that's released, Raiders of the Lost Ark climbs higher and higher on a pedestal. It's widely regarded as one of the top 50 American movies of all time, and no matter how many new adventures come out, the revisitations all have the same problem: they aren't Raiders. I don't believe for a second that it's impossible to make a quality Indiana Jones sequel, but as far as I'm concerned, Spielberg and Lucas have wiffed three times. And in an unfounded bit of speculation, I think they feel the same way, or else they wouldn't keep trying.

For the sake of everyone who grew up on their imagination, I hope they stop.