Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008) - Three Wigs

I'm an anthropologist because of Indiana Jones. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Its not exactly hero worship. And I wasn't one of those kids that fell over backwards for the movie and lined up for four weeks for the next installment. But when I realized that my love of adventure was being fused with my love of history, the only logical profession I could picture myself in was Archaeology. I even own a bull whip. Of course, I gave up any idea of being a professional in this field because I didn't want to owe banks $100K in student loans and because my first love of writing seemed like the better occupation over the long run. And that's a long way of justifying my review of this film.

First, let me say that Indiana Jones really doesn't pick up until Shia LeBeouf comes on screen. Yes, I said it. The beginning of the film with Indy was good, but it wasn't fun. The second Shia entered the picture, the film became fun. And overall, I really enjoyed myself.

But, that being said, and my love for Indy not withstanding, even Spielberg and Lucas do not get a free pass when it comes to story. STORY, STORY, STORY! How many times do we have to say it? Its not the special effects or the acting or the music or the bull whip or the action sequences or the pulp references or the popcorn - its the story. That's what makes a great movie. The script problems with this film are the stuff of Hollywood lore. Some of the greatest writers of an entire generation had a look at this script. And so, someone finally came along and took a little bit of this and a little bit of that and threw this final movie together - and it feels like it.

What this film needed was a singular vision - a singular pass on the script. Great that they wanted so many different ideas in the film, but get someone like Frank Darabont or Lawrence Kasdan to take that "final" amalgamation and rewrite it into a single story. There were plot threads that just disappeared and characters that seemed to come and go out of nowhere.

But there is a stretch in this film, after the appearance of Marion Ravenwood, where the film settles into a nice old fashioned Indy rhythm and we just hang on for the ride. That 40 minutes of film made up for the other 80 because for a short time, we were able to remember what these Indy films used to be like. For that 40 minutes, this film earns almost five wigs. But then the ending comes and we're let back down again, almost gently, and by the end, we're back to three wigs. Take them and enjoy them. Because we're not likely to see them again.

(AND FOR GOD'S SAKE, WHY COULDN'T MARION SAY, "INDIANA JONES... SOMEDAY I ALWAYS KNEW YOU'D COME WALKING BACK THROUGH MY DOOR." WOULD IT BE TOO MUCH TO ASK?)