Finally I managed to find the time to drag my grotty ol' bones to the local picture house to see "Indiana Jones and the cling-film, school-play prop skull". I am glad I waited for the hoopla to die down and going in, that my expectations were so low. It felt like it was made by a great film maker, fallen on hard times who was held to ransom by a tyrannical, egotistical studio head/producer and forced to return to a beloved franchise, long since concluded. Even worse that Hollywood fat cat is a crashing bore and fancies himself as a writer,his script being a derivative retread of the talented directors original films and not even that. Of course, this film is largely an expensive piece of rot. Except for when the script and story are put to onside. Our director when creating the action sequences and set pieces & free to work outside the limitations of this soggy script, reminds the world that when he story-boards and shoots he executes with precision, flair and style. Every single frame tells a cracking story and marrying that to a beautiful period detail, witty sight gags, 1950s technicolor style photography helps to create some perfect cinema. Yet when we return to the talking, it appears out of contempt for what he finds himself doing to his beloved creation in this cruddy new guise; he sticks the camera on a tripod for 5 minute two-shots and uses the first take in which the boom doesn't fall in front of the camera. In short: the joyous film-maker that Spielberg will always be, minus the creative black-hole George Lucas has become, equals Indy 4.
Of course, in actuality this isn't what happened. The truth was Steven let his boring mate come over and play again because he's too nice to say no him after all this time. His boring mate is such a twat that people have stopped telling him to shut up when he 'imagines' stories that are all clearly nicked from early X-files plots. Even then, poor old George saw it a long time ago so it's a bit like a seven year old boy on a sugar high at his own birthday party excitedly retelling his understanding of the Matrix back-story to a room full of adults who are tolerating him but not listening to him. And that's actually how it worked because this autistic seven year old has enough money to finance 150 million dollar blockbusters without the help of a studio.... So the adults in the room really did have no choice but to nod along, as this gabbling child pays their inflated wages.
I have to say, I think overall, it is a movie still worth seeing because about a third of the film (the set pieces specifically) put most other big current movie makers to shame. It does this by making you realize that you can have all the money in the world but a great action sequence has to be clear and simple, and can not be created entirely through editing and effects (see Michael Bay). In the end, it is interesting that the worthwhile bits weren't the moments that were throw back gags/references but the parts of the film that hinted at what might have been had they been working with even a merely passable story and okay script. So yeah, big ol' shame. And for the record: Lucas is a tool. He just is, and he needs to be sent to bed early and his crayon-set burned.
