Raiders of the Lost Ark may serve as one of the greatest, meaningless films ever. I mean, sure, I could try to pontificate about some of the deeper meaning of the film, about its view of heroism and humility before the mysteries of the world, but it wouldn’t take me long to get past where I think the creative voices wanted us to go. Raiders wanted to give a nod to the experience of the Saturday matinee, the serials that caught the eye of George Lucas and so many other children in their day. It was about the spirit of adventure and wonder more than anything else, and was meant to keep us glued to the seats and coming back for more. In the course of doing this, of course, it propelled Harrison Ford on to superstar status, giving him two signature characters (couldn’t escape without a Star Wars reference, could we?) that in many ways defined masculinity for a culture.
While the two sequels almost by necessity couldn’t reach Raiders’ level, they nonetheless kept the mystique alive. But how do you return to this mythology after two decades? Filmmaking has definitely changed. Special effects are now computer-driven. Lucas demonstrated through three films that he lost some knack for dialogue, Spielberg got serious and respectable, and Ford either gave up on acting or at least on finding good scripts. Can these three come together and make it work again?
Well, opinions are divided, but for me, they largely succeed. These guys ask us to make a big leap for this one, and some don’t seem to be able to make it. No longer are we giving a nod to the serials of the ’30’s and ’40’s, full of Nazis and jungle adventures in exotic locations. Instead, they shift their attention to the Saturday matinee of the 1950’s. The Nazis are replaced by communists, and the real mysteries are alien in nature. Hence, we open in Roswell, New Mexico, and pursue an object that is not of this world.
Indiana Jones with aliens and poodle skirts? I admit, it took me a bit to make the leap, but once I did, the film delivers a satisfying nod to its past. The character has aged as much as the actor, and after we are immediately reminded of his action chops (a great choice for an opening act), we catch up with his life. He’s lost his friend Marcus, he’s lost his father, and we find the swagger diminished somewhat, as he seems to be mostly sad at the loss around him in his life. Still, his sadness doesn’t keep him from getting caught up in this adventure. He meets Mutt Williams (rotten name, there), a greaser kid with attitude, who asks Indy to help him find his mother.
The details of the search are secondary to the energy of the chase. I expect many will need a couple of viewings to actually figure out what he’s after and why. But we know with certainty that everybody is after this thing, and everybody in Indiana’s life, including Indy himself, are threatened because of it. Their adventure takes us from New Mexico, to the streets of a university town, to the jungles of South America (yes, we get to go back to the jungle). In the course of the adventure, he reconnects with Marion, a great nod to Raiders. While the chemistry of their relationships is pretty muted in comparison, it was still great to see the connection drawn.
The character of Indiana Jones was never a clean-cut hero. He was a non-committal womanizer, whose passion for adventure got him into trouble as much as it kept him out of it. This time, the film revisits the power of family, echoing themes explored in The Last Crusade. Moving away from the rugged cowboy from the first film, he finds himself drawing people around him, and wanting it. For all the rugged individualism that the character of Indiana Jones represents in our culture, his later films, including this one, are more a celebration of friendship, family, and the power of connection.
Still, at the heart of Indiana Jones is the adventure. Even as he ages, and the gruffness of his character reflects his age, he is still a character that has seen the wonders of this world and still both marvels and respects them. It’s Spielberg’s strength, a strength that made him a rich man long before he got respect. Whether it is the jungle adventurer, or a little alien friend, or the clone dinosaurs, he invites to the theater to marvel. That this sense of wonder is embodied by a 60-year old with more loss than gain in life is simply a reminder that, for all of the marketing power of teenagers in the film market, this desire, even need, for wonder is ultimately ageless.
Glad to have you back, Indy. It’s been too long.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment