Indiana Jones and No Kingdom for Old Men

I have been opposed to yet another installment of the Indiana Jones saga from the very beginning. As far as I

was concerned, ...THE LAST CRUSADE had been a fitting finale, finishing out a trilogy which pretty much tied it all up in a ribbon of closure so we could all move on. The first thing was that it cleansed the palate after THE TEMPLE OF DOOM, the weakest of the three (albeit, the best title). It also included the ingenious casting of Sean Connery as his father, the most significant addition to the series and helped flesh out its main character as a result. There were elements that actually touched the heart, something unheard in this genre. Finally, they rode off into the goddamn sunset. What more could possibly want? Well, if you're George "I'll never let anything go cuz I haven't had an original idea since the Seventies" Lucas, you insist on another chapter because you apparently can't have too much money. Of course the all mighty buck was the main justification for all this. What else? Ego? Bingo! Harrison Ford has grown to be irrelevant in the 21st century, his last hit of any significance being WHAT LIES BENEATH (answer: this festering turd of a movie). Ford didn't need the dough, having done quite well for himself over the years. He just needed to feel useful again. And Steven Spielberg? Apparently, he's fallen on hard times.... Uh-uh. Leggo my ego. Ergo, INDY 4.

Needless to say, I thought this was a bad idea. An aging star reviving an iconic role...hmmm, can anyone say NEVER SAY NEVER AGAIN? Yep, Sean stumbled big time trying to bring himself back as James Bond in the mid 1980s, replete with a new rug and a Roger Moore sensibility. It did not work. Want another example? Hw about RETURN TO MAYBERRY?

But that was then.

This is now. We live in an era where originality takes a back seat to cheap imitation (THE MUMMY, NATIONAL TREASURE), endless rehashing (THE MUMMY 2, NATIONAL TREASURE 2) and crass reimagining (oh, you name it). Don't forget that just in the last decade, we were blessed with the Chapters 1-3 of the STAR WARS saga, AKA The Ugly, The Bad and The Good.

Finally, after years of speculation and Lucas procrastination, INDY 4 finally saw the light of day. And its title: INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL. First of all, the title is too long. It should be INDIANA JONES AND THE CRYSTAL SKULL. Maybe KINGDOM is in there to try to match INDIANA JONES AND THE RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK...except, NOBODY calls it INDIANA JONES AND THE RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK! (Moot? You betcha! I have as much geek cred as any little obsessive ass with a blog.)

However, I find it safe to say, that this installment can be summed up in two words:

GOOD ENOUGH.

Maybe lowered expectations took the stress out of the situation, but I actually found the film to be quite good from the moment it began. Sure, it's corny as get out with every period cliche in the book, but it is a crash course in 1950s pop culture. You got your Commies. You got your red-baiting FBI type. You got the Bomb. You got Brando wannabe punk Mutt Williams (worst name ever. Sounds like a sportscaster at a Midwest TV station.) You got Area 51. You got your rock n' roll, daddy-o.

Some of the action and pacing is stodgy and clumsy in places (the sword fight on motorcycles? Yeesh...), but the second half really does rev it up, Indy-style with a couple of honest to God jaw dropping moments, namely the army ants and the Mayan ruins. Nobody, but nobody does epic action like lil' Stevie Spielberg.

As for Shia LeBeouf as Mutt....well, he's okay. I don't think he'll be able to carry on the mantle if that's what they have in mind. He has no jaw and I don't think he'll age well. He has no chin.

Karen Allen does. She looks as adorable as she did in RAIDERS. Damn, that's a sweet smile. Too bad they made her so goofy toward the end. Marion and Indy really needed better moments than those awkward reconciliation moments.As for Harrison? He knocked it out of the park. Oh, maybe it tipped over the fence, but it was nice to be reminded what made us like him in the first place. He didn't embarrass himself and that was really the most important thing, let's face it, shall we?

So the film as a whole had its stumbling blocks, namely Ray Winstone's thankless and underdeveloped role. A real shame for an actor I admire. The same pretty much goes for the great Jim Broadbent. What the hell. But John Hurt was a welcome addition and Cate Blanchett...well, we're getting into dangerous ground here, mainly a sexual fantasyland with an E ticket. She was hot as balls. I'll leave it at that.

Unlike the consensus of critical opinion of this latest offering, I prefer the second half over the first. While I'm not too crazy about the epilogue, way too cutesy pie for my taste, I left the theater not feeling either cheated, compromised or sad, erasing the dread out of my system and actually feeling like telling Georgie Porgie "thank you"-mainly for not fucking it up.

THE CRYSTAL SKULL... not as good as THE LAST CRUSADE, but better than TEMPLE OF DOOM. From that standpoint, that's why I declare it:

GOOD ENOUGH.

NOW can we move on?

How about it, George?

Oh.

He's too busy working on the STAR WARS TV series.

Woe of the Woewolds

Sometimes I just want to ball up my fist and punch myself in the forehead a half-dozen times for being such a dope. I actually let the recent retarded rambling and antics of one Little Tommy Cruise, actor/Scientologist spokesperson/chimpboy, influence my decision to see Steven Spielberg's remake of The War of the Worlds or not.
Who's the chimpboy now?
I wasn't all that thrilled about this project to begin with. It had all the makings of a been there, done that experience, especially after Independence Day, which, with all its flaws (and they were legion), still delivered the goods of a terrific summer blockbuster. And Spielberg, while his output of the last ten years has been exemplary (especially A.I., to me one of his best), still hasn't really wowed us as an audience since Jurassic Park. When I finally saw the trailer for this extravaganza, all I could think was...feh. Usually, my gut instincts are correct: Bad trailer=Bad movie. The trailer for War of the Worlds wasn't bad, it was just unexceptional. You know. Feh.
Then there was the casting of Cruise, never one of my favorite actors and always pretty much of a goddamn annoyance as far as I was concerned. At best, I find him competent and at worst, insincere in his over-abundance of sincerity to the point that if he flashes those pearly whites in my direction, I'll smash 'em out with a swing from the nearest shovel. So the casting of one Jerome Maguire did not instill any added inducement for me. I think he's been excellent in sustaining an incredibly successful career for so long, putting in the top echelon of film actors. But there is one undeniable factoid about him:
Tom Cruise has never been cool nor will he ever be.
Then came the ill-fated publicity tour for this movie when Tommy Boy showed his ass on what seemed to be a daily basis. First he was proclaiming his love for some generic starlet (yes I know who Katie Holmes is. There's just no real reason she should appear on any of my radar screens. This applies to about 98% of this year's crop of young "talent".) Then Professor Cruise engaged noted poet laureate Matt Lauer in a Scientology v.s. psychology debate, leaving poor Brooke Shields' post partum depressed body in his wake. Oh, by the way...what was the name of that movie you were supposed to be promoting? If I were Spielberg, I would have put his star in a shark cage. "You go in the cage, cage goes in the water, shark's in the water...our shark.
Farewell and adieu, my dear crazy Tommy...."
The movie is finally released under a cloak of secrecy-certainly Tom didn't reveal anything about it while jumping up and down about his new beard...eh, fiancee. And I had about had enough of this jerk that it actually made me wish that someone else starred in it so that my interest might be at least a little piqued. Anyone. Even, say, Elmer Fudd.
"The Woe of the Woewolds...Thewe's something awfuwwy scwewy going on awound heaw. Oh, hewwow, awiens. Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh..."
But no, it was Tom Frickin' Cruise and I'd have to put up with him...or just forget about it and move on.
Four weeks later, I gave it a reluctant shot and as Elmer's friend Bugs said, "What a maroon!"
War of the Worlds completely blew my socks off. Bar none, it is the best summer movie of this decade. Spielberg has never been in better form. His film is jolting, exciting, frightening and totally unforgettable. Wisely avoiding the rah-rah disaster movie antics of ID4, Spielberg instead concentrates his attention on one family's fight for survival-Cruise as an emotionally deadbeat dad and his two kids-the scarily talented Dakota Fanning and the underrated Justin Chatwind as his teenage son. The three of them attempt to escape the onslaught of the aliens from a specific "ground zero" and find there isn't anywhere to hide. While the story is simplistic by design, it allows the enormity of the aliens' attack to be so much more threatening in its scale. Spielberg has been a bit subversive in exploiting the fears we have in today's world for his story-but then again so did Wells and Welles-H.G. and Orson, respectively. There are only a few quibbles I have. First of all Tim Robbins' basement is too close to the main action, making it rather uncomfortably convenient and contrived. Then there is a mini-Spielbergian cornball moment at the end that he should have left on the set of Hook.
Finally the narration at the beginning and end, while necessary, are rather cliche. Those aside, everything else is so outstanding that if I ever met Spielberg, I will immediately apologize for ever doubting him. It's like the return of an old friend. Welcome back, maestro.
As for Cruise, all right, I'll say it. I never liked him any better than here. He is absolutely believable in this role, a weak man finding strength in crisis and discovering, well, both his heart and his balls.
War of the Worlds is one great movie. It deserves to be seen in a theater because it is so overwhelming, you should just surrender yourself for the maximum experience. You won't regret it.
As for the off-screen Tom, I don't know what to say. I think his actions have hurt the potential box office of this film, much in the same way that I think Russell Crowe's telephone pitching arm hurt Opie Cunningham's Cinderella Man.
So what should Tom do to remedy this?
Maybe he should get his head examined.
Huhuhuhuhuhuhuh...