Where the
first two "Indiana Jones" films are masterfully-crafted adventures,
with an edge of the gruesome, the fourth film, 2008's Indiana Jones and the
Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, adopts the template of the third: the
masterfully-crafted comedic "tall tale", blending myth and humanism.
It does so with an older Indy, a Fifties pastel colour palette, and alien
beings.
A series
of reflections on "Indy - Mark IV" follow below...
I. The
Next Crusade. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
has modest ambitions ... in blockbuster terms. Given the speculation and
anticipation that was building through the 90's and 00's for a fourth Indy
film, one could have reasonably expected a film that, when it arrived in
May 2008, was above and beyond its predecessors in kinetics, scope, and
mysticism. But The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is in no rush to
surpass its predecessors in the "bells and whistles" department; it
is simply giving us the pleasure of another Indy film. Such modesty is
amusingly stated in its opening frames: the fade from the Paramount mountain to
a molehill (or a prairie dog hill, as it were). It's just a film, folks; it
ain't the world. By now, its “Eighties revisionist” formula is
old-fashioned, rather than contemporary. But a sparkling new Indy
film in the midst of bruising heroic contemporaries, such as Jason Bourne, is
utterly refreshing. And a tick of approval for the filmmakers - that is, for
resisting the pressure to hype up proceedings.
II. The
Colour of 1957. The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull brought a
new cinematographer to the series, Spielberg's regular since 1993's Schindler's
List, Janusz Kaminski. Kaminski brilliantly replicates the fluid camera
work of the late Douglas Slocombe. Interestingly, though, while the film is one
of Kaminski's most colourful, it is shot with Kaminski's characteristic high
contrast style. This makes it the most artificial and stylised-looking
film of the series thus far, compounded by a visual palette of rich pastels, a
la 1950s movie posters (particularly the B-science fiction films where
government Cold War paranoias were typically articulated through the threat of
alien invasion). I actually think it's fascinating to see an Indiana Jones
film that reflects the developments in the director's visual style over the
years, and yet the artificiality of high contrast and pastels also gives
the impression that more of the action was digitally-created than was actually
the case. (Thank goodness, then, for DVD special features to set things
straight!) And I like that the computer-generated imagery of The Kingdom of
the Crystal Skull has the look of the Industrial Light and Magic visual
effects of Indy's past.
III.
Return. When sequels to 1981's Raiders of the Lost
Ark were first being discussed, it made an invigorating exercise to
"brainstorm" what other sacred vessels could be unearthed. The Ark of
the Covenant, after all, had been utilised to such grand, mysterious and scary
effect. But by the time Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was
released in 1989, it was apparent that the hunted relic’s "special
effects" were of lesser concern to Spielberg than issues of family. This
was partly by necessity - series scenarist George Lucas and Spielberg felt that
the dramatic possibilities of The Holy Grail were a little pallid in comparison
with relics past, and so a new dimension was needed - but there was also a
desire to bring some emotional depth to the Jones character, and, by extension,
the series itself. The search for the Grail hence drove, complemented and -
dare I suggest it - illuminated the search for Indy’s father, Henry
Jones Sr. It even concluded with a very non-Western, non-imperialist impulse to
"let [the prize] go". And this dimension of The Last
Crusade - the search for the prize mirroring a familial reconciliation -
clearly fueled the narrative and subtextual impulses of The Kingdom of the
Crystal Skull. The necessity of "return" and reconciliation for
the inter-terrestrial beings - the return of the lost Crystal Skull to its
place amongst thirteen - mirrors and even drives our rather lost Indiana's
unconscious need to return to "family" (bloodlines or otherwise), a
family that will renew his own strength, vigour, knowledge and place.
IV.
Regard for the Recent Past. When The Kingdom of the
Crystal Skull was released, nineteen years had amassed since we last
saw Indiana Jones. Some contemplation of Jones' relevance and place - and
re-discovering his place - in this new world of Cold War paranoia was not only
logical, but necessary. And there's a moment in The Kingdom of the Crystal
Skull that captures the implications of this significant passage of time
quite profoundly. (Not that the moment seems profound.) A chase along
the ovals of Jones' college, complete with protesting students, culminates with
a KGB vehicle crashing into the memorial statue of Indy's Professor friend and
mentor, Marcus Brody, with the statue's head neatly separating from its body
and landing in a Russkie's lap. The guffaw this gag might attract, though, is
clipped short, as Ford, typically a master of befuddled responses, watches this
particular spectacle, and his young companion's amusement, sombrely and
stonily. It's a switcheroo on the Henry Sr./Henry Jr. byplay of The Last
Crusade, but there's a greater point here. Such a traditional moment
of gleeful desecration in the Indiana Jones films -
personified by that proud swordsman being shot stone cold dead in Raiders -
is now seen through a new lens: this older Indiana Jones could never smile at
Brody's beyond-the-grave intervention, for he's now watching the desecration of
a sacred figure he holds dear. And so, one of the subtle and
invigorating charms of The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is seeing the
spark and enthusiasm return in those older eyes through the course of the film.
And "family" contributes as much to Indy's re-engagement, if not
more, than the adventure itself.
V.
Reconciliation. Both The Last Crusade and The Kingdom of the Crystal
Skull begin with the same broad strokes of an earlier Indiana
Jones adventure - the largely stern-faced pursuit of a missing artefact -
but crucially, by their second halves, the focus turns to familial
reconciliation amidst the obstacles and pursuits. The chases are not as
urgent, but the witty by-play of family members is a hugely enjoyable
compensation. The chases are slapstick, too, what with family squabbles
occurring atop tanks, jeeps and motorcycles. Which, understandably,
disappointed fans of the gritty essence of Raiders, fans who hoped for a
more gung-ho, less spoofy, more dangerous pursuit of the prize. But four
films have now clearly articulated two types of satisfying Indiana Jones
films (or satisfying for most): the gritty straightforward hunt of Raiders,
and the tongue-in-cheek, multilayered familial quests. And through The Last
Crusade and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Spielberg has
spectacularly demonstrated the art of locating meaningfulness within
over-the-top fun.
VI. The
Son Becomes the Father. In the midst of The Kingdom of the
Crystal Skull's shenanigans, Indy learns he is a father, and that the
mother, and his true love, Marion Ravenwood, raised the son in his absence -
and did so with a more available man. From all indications - and this is another
one of the film's understated pleasures - Indy will make a much nicer father
than his own. He's less cantankerous, far less mocking, more agreeable to being
corrected, more immediately generous in spirit. The positive signs are there. A
familial chain of behaviour, it would seem, has been largely broken.
VII.
Maturity. The Last Crusade and The Kingdom of the Crystal
Skull are the works of a maturing director, a man whose mind and
spirit has become more acquainted with - and quelled by - the complexities of
life. The sanctioned, if comical, Nazi-bashing of Raiders is sent up in The
Last Crusade from the word go ("Nazis, I hate these guys!") and
even playfully suggests that Indy might be grappling with some personal
pathologies. It's as though directing The Colour Purple (1985)
and Empire of the Sun (1987) between the second and third Indy
films sensitised Spielberg to other cultural experiences, and made the black
and white dynamics of the Indiana Jones
universe only workable for him if they were clearly expressed through a parodic
lens. And from Indy's first line in The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,
Ford employs that same gruff yet spoofing tone for the acceptable villains of
the piece: "Russians!" Spielberg hasn't reverted on the matter, and
on the evidence of Munich, Schindler's List, et al., how could
he? The violence is now overwhelmingly comic, too, with Spielberg far less
inclined to throw in harsh touches for a self-righteous audience, like the Nazi
in Raiders who falls under the wheels of the truck, arms and
legs flailing up hopelessly as he's flattened into the Earth, or the Thuggee
hulk who is steamrolled by a rock crusher. These films are larks, as each new Indy
film makes increasingly clear, with Spielberg now addressing impulses of
revenge and righteousness on more complex canvases. And admiration can
also be reserved for a filmmaker who, despite the cinematic climate of the past
couple of decades, remains bold enough to embrace flashes of inspired silliness
and improbability, and not worry if the stamp of "unsophisticated" or
"uncool" is received in the process.
VIII.
True Zest. Anyhow, Spielberg always enjoyed a tall tale, and Indiana
Jones continues to be his best declaration of intent in this regard. The
Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is no exception, although it may be a touch
more muted and a tad more lyrical than earlier Indy films. But let's not
mistake a reduced kinetic energy with overall energy and engagement. The
Last Crusade also contended with similar assumptions. To grumble at the
comparative lack of zest, or even at the increased level of parody, is to miss
the dimensions that Spielberg and his creative team have woven into the series.
There are themes – not just design - to think about. And it is one thing to
dislike the direction a series has taken; it is quite another to deny those
films their essence in the process.
IX. When
Worlds Collide. With The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, I realised my
allegiance was more to Spielberg, the filmmaker, than to Indiana Jones,
the film series. Hence when the alien ship is revealed, I found myself moved
and elated at the sight of one Spielbergian universe intersecting with another.
Whether aliens should – or should not - be making their presence felt in the Indiana Jones
universe, felt entirely beside the point.
Published
2 February 2017