Amidst a sea of contrived sequels, prequels, reboots, and whathaveyous, there’s still something magical and nostalgia-inducing about seeing Harrison Ford adorn the screen once more, in the familiar, treasured role of Indiana Jones. Though the actor is having one last crack of the whip as the famed, hardboiled, stubbly-faced archaeologist, this is the first outing in the franchise without a certain Steven Spielberg at the helm, with the task of entertaining the masses falling instead onto the trustworthy shoulders of James Mangold. Which makes sense, for Spielberg has reached a somewhat introspective stage of his life. He’s busy looking back across his past – but not stepping into it.
We meet Indy, initially, back in the 1940s, at the tail end of the Second World War, where the Nazis have captured our eponymous protagonist alongside Professor Basil Shaw (Toby Jones) – a name so English it wouldn’t feel out of place on a Cluedo board. In the midst of an overstated, wonderfully cinematic escape, the duo also get their hands on ‘The Dial of Destiny’. Well, half of it anyway. Created by Archimedes, it’s said to have the power to control time, but only if you possess the entire thing.
Fast forward into the future – to the day of the Moon Landing, to be precise – and we catch up once more with Indy, now in his 80s, retired (just) and wanting, it seems, to just be left alone, though this is a wish he’s granted, as he is tracked down by his goddaughter Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), who wishes to finish what her father Basil had started and long gave up on – to find the other half of the dial. Wanting to convince the reluctant Indy to join forces, he’s somewhat more enthused to assist when learning that the nefarious Nazi still at large, Jurgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), is also on the case, and if he gets his hands on such a powerful device, pretty bad things could happen. And when we say bad, we mean Nazi-bad. The worst kind of bad.
The film is, for use of a better word, just okay. Which sounds like faint praise, but actually, in truth, is really quite relieving. When a franchise that means so much to so many, isn’t God-awful, that in itself can be all you need. This latest sequel isn’t as sharp and exciting as the original trilogy, but it’s more than watchable, it has some really impressive set-pieces, and it serves a different purpose, with a slightly more melancholic tonality. It’s aimed at the same audience, just an older, (hopefully) wiser version.
This may not have that same exhilaration that exists within the originals, but then I’m not the same wide-eyed, impressionable young boy taking it all in. I’m at an age now where it hurts when I bend over, so having a different reaction to the material is fine, and appreciating what Mangold has done here in regards to nostalgia, and for capturing the essence of what came before, deems this entire venture worthwhile.
There is still the same cynical wit, wonderful lines such as Indy’s retort to being told he “should’ve stayed in New York” as he replies, to the Nazi, “yeah well you should’ve stayed out of Poland”. While talking of Nazis, Mads Mikkelsen unsurprisingly makes for a nuanced villain, with an interesting added element to the role whereby he is so ingrained into the fabric of the progressive, ever-changing landscape of American culture of the time. Meanwhile the addition of Waller-Bridge as Helena is a breath of fresh air. There is however a semi-strange dynamic akin to that of a romantic counterpart, but she makes for a unique supporting lead, in that she actually seems to be working against Indy for most of the time rather than alongside him. A character driven by hard cash, and not a lot else, which is refreshing to see of a female lead in a film, as a personality trait often associated with men.
The duo do share some really fun scenes, there’s outlandish, over-the-top action sequences, the sort where you can imagine the eyes lighting up in board meetings, as they imagine scenarios only Indiana Jones could get himself into (and subsequently out of). Not quite Fast & Furious level absurdity, but in the same ballpark. Though it should be said the film does get a little too silly in parts, but can be forgiven, for it’s grounded throughout, and enriched, by a profound sense of sadness that emanates from seeing such a formidable action hero be, well, in his 80s. Not that film plays too heavily on the sentimental, but despite the joy in seeing Ford back in Indy’s boots, and putting in a damn good performance too, giving this infallible character a sense of fragility, to make him, dare I say, vulnerable, enriches the material with a sense of profundity – and this is exactly what separates it from the rest of the franchise, and justifies it’s place in this wondrous cannon of movies.
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is out now
