FILM FRENZY

Ethann Isidore, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, and Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (Photos: Disney)

By Matt Brunson

INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY
★★½ (out of four)
DIRECTED BY James Mangold
STARS Harrison Ford, Phoebe Waller-Bridge

As someone who was greatly amused by the refrigerator scene in 2008’s Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and always felt the updated phrase for “Jumping the Shark” should have been “LaBeoufing the Monkeys” rather than “Nuking the Fridge,” I couldn’t help but wince at the late-inning turn of events in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. Yes, the series has always dipped its toes — well, OK, plunged both feet — into the realms of science fiction and horror, but the fantastical developments that inform the climax of this new picture just seem … dumb. It’s not dumb enough to quite compete with the sight of Shia frolicking with the chimps, but it’s a series low point nonetheless.

Thankfully, there aren’t many series low points in Dial of Destiny — regrettably, there aren’t many high points, either. The fifth film in the 42-year-old franchise, it kicks off toward the tail end of World War II, with Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, de-aged via CGI sorcery) aboard a train and jockeying with Nazis for possession of the Lance of Longinus, named for the Roman soldier who pierced the crucified body of Christ with his weapon. (I prefer the alternate name of the Sword of Destiny, as Longinus for some reason always makes me think of Monty Python’s Life of Brian and Biggus Dickus. But I digress … and, apparently, regress.) The lance turns out to be a fake, but that’s not the case with another object stored on the train: a partial piece of the Antikythera Mechanism, a dial created by the Greek mathematician and inventor Archimedes to locate time portals (the device is based, obviously loosely, on an actual artifact that’s housed in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens). Nazi scientist Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen) briefly finds it in his possession before it’s retrieved by Indy and his friend Basil Shaw (Toby Jones).

Cut to 1969, and the elderly Professor Jones is approached by his godchild Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), who’s also the late Basil’s daughter, to help her acquire the pieces of the dial. Voller, now a respected scientist working for NASA (a grim reminder of the many disgusting instances when this country forgave Nazis and welcomed them with open arms and lofty careers), is also after the doohickey — he wants to make the Third Reich great again — and off we go with the globe-hopping, the perilous chases, the requisite betrayals, and some silly supernatural shenanigans.

Despite the presence of an eerily young Indy (although the de-aging effects have come a long way since past attempts on Tony Stark and Grand Moff Tarkin, among others), the opening WWII sequence is the sort of slam-bang excitement we expect — nay, demand — from a movie featuring our favorite swashbuckler. There are scattered bits that should satisfy the faithful — the return of John Rhys-Davies as Sallah, the fate of LaBeouf’s Mutt, the relationship status of Indy and Marion (Karen Allen) — and Waller-Bridge proves to be a good verbal sparring partner while Mikkelsen makes an appropriately naughty villain.

But without Steven Spielberg at the helm — the director is James Mangold of the solid Ford v Ferrari and the stolid Logan — awe-inspiring scenes and shot selections are largely AWOL, and the storyline further gets bogged down with too much tedious techno-talk. Select actors and characters are both ill-utilized — in the former camp, Antonio Banderas is wasted as an Indy pal, while in the latter, a crazy killer named Klaber (Boyd Holbrook, basically resurrecting his Logan baddie) is finally dispatched in an anticlimactic, unsatisfactory manner. There’s also a street urchin named Teddy (Ethann Isidore) — I suppose he’s meant to be another Short Round, but there can only be one Ke Huy Quan, and he’s busy winning Oscars and other awards anyway.

Ford was 65 when he made Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull and there were many cracks about how he was too old for the role. He wasn’t — he did just fine — but now he’s 80 and a new round of digs has been released. But the actor is up to the task, appropriately responding to the script’s pointed references to his advancing age and autopilot career (his students are now bored rather than infatuated) but also adding the necessary pep and vigor to the interludes when he puts on that fedora and snaps that whip. Still, it’s good that he has gone on record to state that this will be the last time he will essay the iconic role — otherwise, even I might have to join the nay-saying fray by speculating if the next installments will be titled Indiana Jones and the Temple of Metamucil and Indiana Jones and the Last Depend.