Screen Anarchists On INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY

Ankit Jhunjhunwala, Contributing Writer

All the demanding stunts on offer would tax even a young lad but Harrison Ford, notwithstanding the on-screen and off-screen jokes about his age, may be the spryest 80-year-old you’ll ever see and appears to be in great shape for his age in an early shirtless scene. Mads Mikkelsen squares up nicely as the main baddie, playing the umpteenth moustache-twirling Nazi villain in the series but his novel motivation and Mikkelsen’s natural charisma make him a good foil for Indy.

What prevents this instalment from taking off despite the presence of all these promising ingredients is mostly down to pacing, tone, and vibes. The previous four films in the series come in at an average of two hours while Indiana Jones And The Dial Of Destiny vastly overstays its welcome at over two and a half hours in length. There is absolutely no reason for an Indiana Jones movie to be this long, especially one that has fewer characters than usual and a relatively thin story.

(...) Mangold delivers a robust adventure but it pales in comparison with even Crystal Skull. Even so, it’s hard not to hope that moviegoers will give this latest film a chance, if only to support a more grown-up popcorn blockbuster than your average superhero movie.

(Editor's Note: This is an excerpt of Ankit's full reviewy. You can read the rest of that article here).

Matt Brown, Contributor

The thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking about Indiana Jones’ bones.

Nothing will make you appreciate Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull to quite the same measure as Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny; it can’t redeem the prior entry (awful script, awful supporting characters) but it only burnishes the degree to which the best thing about that film was Ford, returning as Indy, 58 years old (Ford himself was 65) and still tough as hell. In Dial of Destiny, the actor — now 80, with Jones right behind him — is past his stale date, at least visually. The film compensates by doing away with fistfights and suicide leaps across bottomless chasms, filling the gaps with innumerable vehicular chases; but as Indy jumps from one tuk tuk to another scarcely in time to avoid disaster, my 47-year-old mind could only count the number of ways in which that ancient body would simply shatter, and unravel, and slide out of the cart like a bowl full of noodles.

Sure: I’m too old for this shit. My back hurts. My right big toe has been throbbing for, I shit you not, a year and a half. And Harrison Ford, whose take on a broken (emotionally, if not physically) Indy in Indy 5 is nonetheless some of the best performance work he’s put on screen, could probably beat the hell out of me. But I return to a maxim that still, I think, holds true: Indiana Jones was never a superhero. His derring-do might have strained the edges of credulity; but, he needed a lot of recovery time afterwards. (Nicely, he does manage to complain about the long-covid after-effects of having drunk the blood of Kali, this time around.) Nothing Indy learns or finds in Indy 5 is magnificent enough to make the entire effort seem worthwhile; and for the amount of time I spent fretting, it made me wish that I (and he) had simply stayed home.

Ernesto Zelaya Miñano, Contributor

Indiana Jones is back, and even though it’s a bit odd to see an 80 year-old Harrison Ford running around doing stunts, he slides right back into the part with no problem; it’s the same old, Nazi-punching, whip-swinging, grouchy Indy we all know and love. Truly, no one else can play this part.

Rather than a neverending series of setpieces, Dial of Destiny has a slower, more laidback pace, perhaps accounting for its star’s advanced age. This is a more melancholy Jones, but he still has a knack for adventure, and we get that in spades. Everything you could want from one of these is present – impossible stunts, cool sidekicks, nasty, cartoony Nazi villains getting punched in the face, etc. - culminating in a climax that takes one hell of a big swing; but after aliens, a death cult, the Holy Grail and The Power of God, the Antikythera and what it does isn’t out of place at all.

While not in Raiders’ league, this is a respectable entry in the franchise which gives Indy and Ford an emotional, dignified send-off after five films. Even Mutt, the character that everyone seems to hate, is treated with a lot of respect. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Ard Vijn, Editor, Europe

Indiana Jones has been with me for most of my conscious life. I'm 54 and saw Raiders of the Lost Ark in cinemas at age 12, an almost ridiculously fantastic fit of film and audience. I was 15 when Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom arrived and I saw that one five times in the cinema. I devoured those films. At the time, I BELIEVED in them.

In contrast, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade was, despite a Ford's great double-act with Sean Connery, a bit of a disappointment to me, its finale a pale shadow of the one in Raiders. And of course I considered Crystal Skull the least of the four.

Now we have number five, and it's not even by Steven Spielberg. Ugh. None of my regular movie-friends wanted to join me (one said "I'd rather see Spiderverse another time" which is fair enough I guess...) so I went with my two kids, aged 15 and 19.

Guess what happened: all three of us had a blast with it. Sure, you can nitpick this one to death and argue endlessly over plotholes. That's actually true of all Indy films by the way, back to Raiders even. Remember Dr. Jones hitching across the Mediterranean on the deck of a submarine? But Ford is Jones in this one, whether you count it as Mangold's fan-fiction or not. And he is great. The film is solid entertainment.

I saw my kids having fun and rejoiced with them. And I wondered if maybe my diminishing return with these films has had more to do with my age at the time of seeing them, than with the actual quality of the films. My experiences in this world have made it more difficult for me to suspend disbelief, and that will have influenced my immersion and enjoyment.

My youngest hasn't seen any of the other Indies yet. I'm going to remedy that ... and I'll make sure to be sitting next to him. And watch.

Kurt Halfyard, Contributing Writer

After Kingdom of The Crystal Skull, I have learned to treat Indiana Jones films outside the original 1980s trilogy (which quite literally ended with its heroes riding off into the sunset) like just another obligatory summer blockbuster. Dial of Destiny feels a tad better in the storytelling department, but suffers in the edit. Director James Mangold was hired in lieu of Steven Spielberg (who directed the other four), I am guessing here, for his ability to inject pathos, gravitas, and maybe a last shot of stinging hubris, into aging larger-than-life heroes. See Logan or Copland where Mangold added some haunting fragility to Hugh Jackman and Sly Stallone, respectively, without diminishing their masculinity.

Mangold handles the clear geography of complex action set-pieces (a Spielberg hallmark) with relative ease. What is at stake, who and where are the players at every given moment, surprise obstacles and complications, feel Indy-like even as they have to work around Harrison Ford's age. The action is fun, and occasionally even beautifully staged. However, and this is perhaps being personally attuned to these films for four decades, the editing rhythms and pacing of an Indiana Jones adventure — the devil-may-care humour seasoned with portentous implications of historic mysticism — is off balance. Be it the fatigue of modern blockbuster busy-work, or lack of discipline in the edit bay, scenes go a tad too long, supporting characters feel short changed, lacking even simple arcs. The film is often visually sluggish, often sorely lacking in the wonder of practical stunts and old school special-effects wonder. In short, the pacing and plot here are sloppy. Yes, even when put up against the low, low, bar of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Mostly, Dial of Destiny is interested in looking back in time. There are many (perhaps too many) nods towards the past entries, both in dialogue, in action-beat cribs, and an admittedly sweet teary-eyed bit (it’s the score dammit!) in the penultimate scene; a bit of nostalgic foreplay if you will. Is this, or should it be, par for a final Harrison Ford entry? Note that this was never the case, not once, in The Last Crusade presumably the last entry in Indiana Jones' story - until it was not.

If I am being honest with myself, I would have preferred a feature length de-aged Ford cliffhanging, and train-hopping, in the late 1940s, over the angry-oldster who runs roughshod over the ticker-tape parade for the returning Apollo Astronauts in 1969. Hate me for that if you will. I had a good enough time with Dial of Destiny, even if it plays like a dirgy cover-song, occasionally fumbling a note or two, in an effort to keep up with past fortune and glory.

And that was the last of them! I end this article with this poster, my favorite of the ones released for this film (click on it for a larger version).

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