We went to see the new Indiana Jones movie yesterday. Like the rest of Gen X (and most of the Baby Boomers, too), I was thoroughly excited to go watch this movie. The first three movies (and the Nintendo game) were staples of my childhood, and I’ve watched the Indiana Jones stunt show at DisneyWorld so many times I think I could recite it back to you. I’ve harbored much anticipation for this movie.
I became a little wary after reading a not-so-friendly review earlier this week. I stopped reading midway through the review, chalked it up to one of those movie critics who’s too pompous to know a good movie while watching it, and continued quietly humming the theme song in my head all week.
So we got to the theater yesterday, and the movie starts. My expectations were somewhat dampened by said review, so I was pleasantly surprised. I had no qualms with the CG groundhogs, no complaints about Karen Allen keeping a smile plastered across her face throughout everything, and minimal snorts of disbelief during Shia LeBouf’s uber-corny Tarzan moment.
But, ALIENS? Seriously? I was willing to let everything else slide, to still be a proponent of the new Indiana Jones. But Spielberg ruined a great series the moment that ridiculous spaceship rose out of the ground. Did he not realize that the X-Files movie is coming out just two months from now? I only bargained on seeing one alien movie this summer, and dropping extra-terrestrials into a classic movie series like Indiana Jones is unacceptable. It’s like putting a light saber into James Bond’s hands – totally out of place and trying just a little too hard.
I won’t go so far as to say I’d never watch it again, but I will say I’m disappointed. Sorely disappointed. The theme song in my head is now tainted with some “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” notes. Thanks, but no thanks, Spielberg.