INDIANA JONES AND THE DIAL OF DESTINY and the Endearing Art of Mistakes (Patreon)

There is this great little arc in season three of Mad Men that involves them pitching a product by copying a scene from Bye Bye Birdie. It’s the part with the title song where the great Ann Margeret stands in front of an all blue background and sings directly to the camera, as if looking you right in the eye.  She sings a little shrilly (which is part of the joke), but it’s so endearing as she gazes at you with this lovely, flirtatious, charming smile. There’s just a whole charisma about her. Which is instinctively why the clients want to frame a similar scene to market their new diet soda called “Patio Cola.” So the ad team gets to work and they recreate it in exacting detail, from finding another pretty redhead to copying it all to the letter. Everyone feels like this is the correct spirit of intention. And yet… the final commercial falls flat. There’s just something wrong and the client is equally puzzled as to why it didn’t work. Don defends the effort, saying ” I don't think there is any ambiguity that this is exactly, and I mean exactly, what you asked for.” But it doesn’t matter. There’s something not right. Even Harry later chimes in with agreement, though he doesn’t know why, “It doesn’t make any sense. It looks right, sounds right, smells right, I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” And it is of course the great Roger Sterling who sees the ultimate problem.

“It’s not Ann Margret”

* * *

I’m going to keep it short and non-spoilery for once, mostly because it really won’t help much in the explanation anyway. Because the whole thing about Indian Jones and the Dial of Destiny is that its core problem is sort of just a big holistic observation. And it’s one that I’m not even sure is wholly their “fault.” Because so much of the film’s inception is a largely reaction to what has come before.

Namely, Indiana Jones and Kingdom of Crystal Skull.

Which is an earnest failure that I somehow find myself defending a lot. Yes, there are things that do not work. Which is why people are ever so quick to talk about the moments that bump them as a viewer, whether it’s the vine swinging, the odd CGI, and the fact that pretty much everything that starts going haywire in the final act. Even big elements of the plot don’t quite come together (especially with Winstone’s triple agent and whatever the heck they were trying to do there). All of this is valid criticism. But there are also moments in the film that show off Spielberg’s inherent directorial spark. It’s the vivacious teens as the credits roll in the opening titles, Indy’s whip jump from the lamp not getting him far enough, the thrilling little chase with the motorcycle between the cars, and then there’s my favorite one two three sequence that starts that chase in the first place. It’s the moment where Mutt throws a punch, the girl screams “that’s my boyfriend!” and punches Mutt outright, knocking him into a group of greasers, who suddenly face the opposing jocks, which causes instant pandemonium. It’s almost looney toons logic, but it’s a perfect example of the playful, madcap sensibility that has defined the entire series. And all ugly Shia feelings aside, the role is written with an actual arc and beats that play pretty great (“you let him quit school!?!?”). Sure, it doesn’t come together in the end. But the spark is there. And I argue it is essential to the DNA of these films. But for the general public?

The moments that bumped just bumped too hard.

Which brings us to James Mangold. And from the top, I want to be clear that I really, really like Mangold. I particularly love a lot of his early grounded dramatic efforts like Walk The Line, Girl, Interrupted. but especially Cop Land, which so effortlessly turns its slice of life, sobering story into a crackling morality tale. And now for his modern Hollywood fare like Logan, he takes a lot of those grounded dramatic instincts and has become very good at “elevating”(always a dangerous word) a certain kind of pulpy material. That’s because he’s the king of underplaying it. The king of imbuing them with this a more serious, even-keeled tone and digging a little deeper into the uglier, sadder hearts of his characters. And there are folks that love this instinct because it allows them to take the work more seriously in turn, but to me, really he’s kind of the definition of the Howard Hawks quote that “a good movie is one with three great scenes and no bad ones.” On paper, all of this makes Mangold seem like a great choice to take over after the perceived failure of Crystal Skull. Because he will give you a movie that will not bump.

It’s also what makes him a stealthy “not great” choice for this film, either. Everyone I talk to keeps echoing the same kind of reaction about it being “fine” yet surprisingly underwhelming and even boring at times. Part of it is because Mangold loves to slow things down, go from A to B to C in a way that ground its all, even making fairly linear set-pieces that can have all the kinetic energy in the world, but end up feeling samey. Mostly because everything is filmed the same with the same coverage that feels like it's part of the “tone management,” but that’s the stealth problem. The king of underplaying it is in the film series that’s all about overplaying it. Because Indiana Jones runs off of verve. As cool as Indy can be sometimes, the action scenes are a cartoonish rube goldberg-esque combination of spinning plates and things crashing on top of each other. It’s all chutzpah and goofs and failure and not taking things too seriously and letting it come alive with sparkle. You have to be willing to be too cute by half. All of which allows you to craft these singular MOMENTS. And sure, there are so many moments that come close in Dial of Destiny (the anti-air gun coming back on the train for one), along with a couple of dramatic character moments that are genuinely great. But on the whole? It’s just too afraid to fall on its face. Thus everything is wrapped in the same monotone sheen as a kind of self-protection.

There’s no real “mistake” in this instinct. I’m sure some of the anti-bumpers even prefer it. And they might look at the popular reaction to this film and shout “I don’t get it! He’s not doing anything wrong!” But the truth is you can’t get something like the laugh out loud Diner moment without also being willing to fall on your face with the Vine-swinging moment. And that’s because the abject willingness to fail, to make mistakes, to look shrill and goofy as you sing in front of a blue background, is such an essential part of charisma. And so, for Dial of Destiny It can look right, sound right, and smell right, but still come down to one essential factor.

It’s not Steven Spielberg.

<3HULK