Two months down for the summer and we are finally getting some real blockbusters. As I write this, the actors guild SAG-AFTRA is on strike. Halting any future film plans, next year may not fare better than this one. A lot of crashing and burning has been going on. Low returns and attendance have CEOs scrambling. A warning was already on its way before the pandemic that a sea change was coming. Streaming can host more content than multiplexes can ever match. If the theatrical experience has any hope of thriving, it needs to bend to the will of the public and make some drastic changes. Let’s look at two such examples recently.
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is the fifth in this franchise. Fifteen years since the last debacle, we see Jones going after a new relic called the Archimedes Dial with the power to jump from one point in time to the next. What might seem silly is more plausible in the context of a series that also contains the Holy Grail and the Ark of the Covenant.
Going back to basics isn’t the most counterintuitive idea. Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy did the same. However, director James Mangold and the writers fail to let scenes breathe a bit before taking us on another wild ride. Don’t get me wrong; the car chases and fist fights are what keeps us excited for Indy’s next adventure. But what they don’t understand is that human connection that is only parceled out here. We get only ten minutes of Sala and about a quarter of Marion, banking on our collective memory from pervious installments. Our new co-lead, Helene, has a back history with Jones but is left half-baked. Phoebe Waller-Bridge is game, given time to shine. No time is given to relaying how much Indy and her mean to each other. We are too busy getting to that action scene.
Mads Mikkelsen can play villains like Dr. Voller in his sleep. Nazis have been the bread and butter of this series from its inception. A good deal of backstory laid out; Jones meets him in an extended opening sequence. With the groundwork laid, we are brought forward to 1969. Jones is obsolete; almost a commentary on both franchise, character and actor simultaneously. It sounds like I am down on this, but not entirely. There is a great movie here, buried under some poor decisions.
One thing plaguing this is the over reliance on CGI, something the new Mission Impossible film does not. Tom Cruise wouldn’t be caught dead not running across an actual roof and jumping off a cliff for our amusement. Watching the car chases through Rome makes one nostalgic for the 90s where computer graphics were in their infancy. Real cars blasting through real streets, hearts pounding.
When it comes to the plot, that can be interchangeable. After seven features, the what doesn’t take precedent over the who. Ving Rhames is still here; so is Simon Pegg and more. Even our old pal Agent Kittridge comes back played with smarm by Henry Czerny. Cruise has been good to surround himself with capable actors, playing off of and even allowing ample screen time. Esai Morales oozes charm as an equal adversary. We even get a little Agent Carter reunion with Halley Atwell as a thief caught in the middle and Shea Whigham on their trail.
At two hours and forty-three minutes, we never feel the length as it speeds to a breakneck conclusion. From the subtitle, we know this is a part one but you will never feel disappointed. We are in good hands with Cruise and director Christopher McQuarrie at this point that I am left salivating for the next installment. See you there next summer for the thrilling ending and don’t miss out on this one.
