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CINEMA SEEN - "E.T. Call Jones" By William Margold For me...the entire Indiana Jones trilogy was essentially over after Harrison Ford dodged the boulder and leaped from the cave during the first five minutes of "Raiders of the Lost Ark." With a vicariously amorous nod toward the gloriously freckled ultra-tomboy Karen Allen in "Raiders"...and a sincere genuflection to the powerful presence of Sean Connery in "Last Crusade"---what came and went during the three cluttered and highly repetitious adventures (the last being in 1989) with Indiana left very little in the way of dazzling discussion material as the years reeled relentlessly by, and Jones’ jaunts became so many celluloid cobwebs in my movie-going memory banks. You see...during my cinematic childhood (the 1950’s), I somehow managed to escape the apparent joys that my peers derived from being trundled off to watch Saturday Morning Serials. Therefore I didn’t have very much revered reference material to help me appreciate what master filmmaking buddies George Lucas and Steven Spielberg were "awe-shuckingly" alluding to as the indefatigable, and also somewhat always annoyed looking Professor Jones, took on the minions of late 1930’s evil (invariably nasty nitwit Nazis) in pursuit of assorted priceless, and of course, supremely magical artifacts. Indeed...the majority of my Saturday mornings, when not spent as the guest of various institutions of structured living (including many military schools, a couple of fancy private education facilities, Central Juvenile Hall in downtown Los Angeles, and finally, from late 1956 until the summer of 1960, a home in Culver City for the resolutely incorrigible), almost always consisted of outdoor encounters with mischief. Now that’s not to say that I didn’t see lots of movies during that period, and in fact, I came to adore as well as emulate on the playground such wildly adventurous films as "Bataan" "Gunga Din" and "The Crimson Pirate"---and bask in the loyalty and honorable glow of westerns like "High Noon" "Shane" and "Red River." So when I was told that Indiana Jones was coming back to the big screen, I must admit that I was less than excited. But then I heard that my decadent daydream Karen Allen was being (dare I say "exhumed") to play Indiana’s true love, the spectacular Marion Ravenswood, and that the plotline was being moved up into my 1950’s---my interest antenna perked up. And it didn’t hurt that another of my fantasy femmes---Cate Blanchett---had been added to cast as a cunning Commie. (Ms. B winds up conjuring Natasha Fatale from the iconic "Rocky and Bullwinkle" TV show, which is not all that flattering, but considering her surroundings, it is tolerable...and sort of fun.) So off I went, after appropriately eating at Pann’s, a 50’s-themed diner near LAX, with a special friend---the legendary "paints with a still camera" photographer Kenji---to see "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" at The Cinerama Dome in Hollywood. And I came away from the experience---that I’ve labeled "E.T. Call Jones"--- richly rewarded by a film, that while admittedly is highly derivative of its precursors, also absolutely delivers an enormously Fifties evocative, charmingly delightful mixture of well-staged derring-do with a smartly satisfying message about the possibility that perhaps we have never really been alone in the universe. Ford labors stylishly as the aging gracefully Jones, and his reconciliation with Allen (in wardrobe that looks comfortably familiar) through Shia LaBeouf as their carnally collaborative product of a night of bedded bliss, resonates perfectly as to how squeaky clean and sanitary all things sexual were during the Eisenhower era. And speaking of comfortably familiar wardrobe---that fine fedora that Ford/Jones manages to keep on his head almost all the time has assumed a personality all its own, and I would gain great comfort if it were retired to The Smithsonian. Then again...there are still The Sixties and The Seventies for Lucas, Spielberg and Indiana Jones to deal with...! end NOTE: Originally published in LA Xpress, June 26, 2008, issue. |