Indiana Jones & The Sequel Of Doom?

It's almost ten years now since George Lucas chose to perpetrate that most heinous of crimes against my childhood, creating three crass, vulgar, and irredeemable and blockbuster advertisements for toys, video games and wonky CGI... and having the gall to call them 'Star Wars'. I haven't ever forgiven him.

Like many children of the 80's then, I've waited the Indiana Jones sequel with great trepidation - and when that garish Lucasfilm logo began glittering at me as the film finally rolled, I had - to quote Indy himself (and a certain Mr. Solo) - "a very bad feeling about this".

Lucas. Ford. Spielberg. Their record since Henry Jones Jr. rode off into the sunset back in 1989 has been anything but spectacular. Lucas is obviously the main offender - a Howard The Duck sequel wouldn't have been quite as despicable as the way he's actually chosen to spend his time. Ford? I'll give him The Fugitive and Air Force One, maybe the Jack Ryan movies, but other than that... Firewall? Hollywood Homicide? The Devil's Own? Don't even talk to me about What Lies Beneath. Spielberg, I suppose, has fared best - though an over-reliance on Toms Cruise and Hanks has ruined many an otherwise good flick, the dinosaurs did little for me, and the less said about AI and Hook the better.

So then... how bad was it?

How about if I tell you that this really should be the last film Steven Spielberg ever directs?

But wait... not for the reasons you might think.

Because, against all odds, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was damned near perfect. Well, as close to damned near perfect as you're going to get, considering everything that was stacked against it. Though it takes Ford a little while to warm up to the role again, once Indy's climbed out of that fridge (don't think too deeply about that), there's really no stopping him.

Crystal Skull gave me everything I could ever want from an Indiana Jones film - dark, cobwebby passages, secret doors, killer insects, cartoon badguys, natives with blow darts, car chase sword fights, monkeys, and plenty of whip-swinging, wise-cracking action. It also gives us something new - Indy in the 50's, a very different world to the one we're used to seeing him in. It's interesting to note that while the first three Indy films centred around the power and threat of religious artefacts - from the Ark to the Kali-worshipping Thugees to the Holy Grail - in Crystal Skull, the threats are far more scientific (or science fiction) in nature, as befits the era of the atomic bomb, Roswell, and the beginnings of the Cold War.

It was inevitable that this film was going to be lambasted online - hell, I was sharpening the knife myself - but the criticisms I've read so far just don't hold up for me. Some claim that the change of setting / era spoils the premise, and that the spectacular climax is unbelievable as a result. To me, it doesn't stretch credibility any further than the forces released from the Ark, or the earthquake that destroys the temple of the Grail. It's just a different mythology, that's all. Others complain that Indy's escape from the atom bomb is frankly ludicrous... but I reckon they've forgotten the fact that he escaped having his face melted by the Ark just by turning his head away, or that he narrowly avoided having his heart ripped out of his chest by a Thugee priest, or that he saved Jones Sr. from a fatal gunshot wound with a little water from an old goblet. Anybody who doesn't go into an Indiana Jones flick prepared to suspend their disbelief is bound to come out carping. And as for the CGI - my greatest fear, going in... I counted probably three shots where the CGI was obvious (and to do one of these the old fashioned way would have meant needlessly killing a bunch of innocent trees)... the rest of the time, Spielberg appears to have used more traditional fx techniques wherever possible.

Of course, I could pick needless holes if I wanted. Cate Blanchett hams it up terribly. John Hurt and Jim Broadbent are somewhat wasted. Ray Winstone is... well, Ray Winstone. Ford and Karen Black don't exactly recapture the chemistry from Raiders - but hell, at least we're not inflicted with Kate Capshaw or Short flipping Round. Shia LaBeouf acquits himself well in what is at times a thankless role (note, please, who ends up with the fedora - let's keep it that way, guys) and the ubiquitous Jim Robinson (Alan Dale) turns up needlessly once again (doesn't that bloke ever sleep?). But in the end, quibbles don't matter when a film is as much fun as this. All I want from an Indiana Jones flick is a rollercoaster. And in that, Crystal Skull delivers - it's a bloody miracle, I tell you.

So why should this be Spielberg's last film then? Well, because I don't think he'll ever recapture that magic again... and also, because Crystal Skull feels, at times, like all the best bits of his career rolled into one movie. Indiana Jones? Check. Close Encounters? Check. Back To The Future? (I know he was only the producer, but it was still his baby.) Check out the brawl in the diner. Hell, all this film really needed was a shark... but I guess then they'd have needed a bigger boat. Call it a day now, Steven. This is as good as it gets. And Harrison - you've restored my faith. A small boy with an scraggy length of bailing band fashioned into a whip and a rope swing in the woods - he thanks you from the bottom of his heart.

But George...? Sorry. All isn't forgiven.