MY MOVIE SHELF: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 46 Days to go: 34

Movie #394:  Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade

I used to be confident that this was the movie my parents and I went to see on the eve of my mother’s scheduled c-section of my brother, but the timing wasn’t right. (The actual movie we saw that night was Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.) Still, the experience of sitting in a theater with this movie stuck with me. So much so that I wanted to assign greater importance to it than it actually had. I think that’s because, in my estimation, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is the best in the series.

First of all, we start with River Phoenix as young Indiana, back at the height of his adorableness and only a mere four years before his death. He demonstrates Indy’s clear resolve, his charge for preservation over fortune hunting. He reveals the source of his chin scar, the origin of his fear of snakes, and the person who gave him his signature hat. He even demonstrates his first crack of a whip. And he gives us a brief (if mostly heard and unseen) image of life with his father. It’s a delightful inclusion in a film and a franchise that so many people loved, like a reward and thanks for their support.

Secondly, when we join Indy all grown-up again, as we know and love him (played by Harrison Ford), he’s getting redemption for the artifact he lost so many years ago before ultimately being pulled into another mystery of biblical proportions with, once again, the Nazis as his rivals. It’s classic Indiana, going back to the basics. It’s what everyone loves, but it’s also more universal this time because the item everyone’s seeking — the Holy Grail — is a much more identifiable (and sought after) piece of lore. I mean, even I’ve heard of it. Even better, when you realize it’s a trek modeled after that of the Crusades, you understand the title of the film and can stop fretting that this is the last film. (I mean, it WAS the last film, until they put out that wretched Kingdom of the Crystal Skull malarkey, but it didn’t have to be — and wasn’t purporting to be — just because it was called The Last Crusade. It was literally just referring to the Crusades.) (Incidentally, my son watching tonight had the same epiphany about the source of the title that I had 26 years ago in that movie theater. That’s a magical experience, that sort of serendipity, when it happens.)

Thirdly, Henry Jones Sr. (Sean Connery) is a phenomenal character. Perfect casting, for one, and a performance that’s sort of beautifully stuffy and closed off the same way Indy is smirky and accessible. I love his ridiculous tweed suits. I love his distracted musings. I love how he continually ignores his son in favor of whatever Grail lore or intellectual problem he’s fixated on then still arrogantly asserts he was a great father for leaving Indy alone to fend for himself. It’s delusional, yes, but it works because Connery is so committed to Henry’s obliviousness and conviction. Spielberg tends to be drawn to father-son relationships, and this is a great one. These are two men who are somehow both very much alike and drastically different from one another. They have similar fields, similar obsessions, similar interests, and yet they approach relationships so oppositely (though each apparently likes a no-strings roll in the hay every now and then). I love them together, I love the dynamics of their relationship, and I really kind of wish I could get a Henry Jones origin story.

The action in Last Crusade is also up to par with everything else they’ve done in the franchise to date, featuring shootouts and tanks and boat chases and dogfights and fires and motorcycle flips and no tickets on the zeppelin and a crypt full of burning, squealing rats. It’s thrilling and great, and the film moves quickly from one exciting escape to the next without feeling nearly as repetitive as Raiders. (I do love the Ark of the Covenant reference, though. That’s great.) The best part, though, is in the location of the Grail, as Indy moves from test to test, solving the riddles of legend and working his way back to the worlds oldest knight. (“… you, who have vanquished me.”) Not only that, but I’d argue that Walter Donovan (Julian Glover) aging himself into dust in the matter of seconds, as Elsa (Alison Doody) screams her head off, is as terrifying a scene as anyone’s heart getting ripped out. Except it’s better, because Sir Oldface (Robert Eddison) follows it up with “He chose poorly.” Yeah, no kidding, dude.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is such a perfect movie, such a thrilling and clever action-adventure flick, that I really wish it had been the franchise’s last. Then I’d never again have to think about Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Up next: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Ugh.

 

 

MY MOVIE SHELF: Stand By Me

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 172  Days to go: 121

Movie #266:  Stand By Me

I was just a smidge younger than the four main boys in Stand By Me when it came out, but I still had a pretty hard time relating to it. I mean, I liked it a whole lot — it’s funny and thoughtful and even suspenseful and frightening in places — but these boys were not like boys I knew. Or if they were, then I didn’t know any boys all that well. (My brother wasn’t even born yet when this movie came out, so I never really got to experience boys up close until I was much older.) These boys were worldlier than I was, by far. I don’t know if it’s simply because girls don’t have penises, but I was never aware before this movie that it was important for it to be a “fat one,” or how traumatizing it might be for a leech to be on your balls. I also had never heard swears like these before. I didn’t even know what a pussy was, but it sounded really bad. I’m also not a big fan of barfing, but I suspect that’s just my shocking lack of a sense of humor at work, because clearly, barfing is hilarious.

In their small Maine hometown (because Stephen King, natch), four best friends set out on a hike the weekend before they enter junior high in order to see a dead body. Such is the premise of Stand By Me. It’s a story being narrated (written, as it turns out) by Richard Dreyfuss, the grown-up version of Gordie Lachance (Wil Wheaton). Gordie and his friends Chris (River Phoenix), Teddy (Corey Feldman) and Vern (Jerry O’Connell) find out about the dead body of a boy several miles away when Vern overhears his older brother talking about it with his friend, and the foursome sets out to “claim” the missing boy and maybe get a reward or be on TV. These are lofty goals for a twelve-year-old.

There is a mad dash to beat a train (in a truly heart-racing scene), the aforementioned run-in with some leeches, and a legendary dog who responds to the command, “Chopper, sic balls.” There is also the problem of Vern’s brother Billy (Casey Siemaszko) and his gang of reprobates, led by some street thug named Ace (Kiefer Sutherland), who, once Billy and friend Charlie (Gary Riley) spill the beans about boosting a car and stumbling upon the body, want to claim it for themselves. They’re sort of laughably tame in their thuggery, playing mailbox baseball with actual rules and brandishing a little switchblade like it means something, but when the movie first came out I found them terrifying. No way I would’ve wanted to run into them in a dark alley.

The journey is eye-opening and the conversations are charming and the soundtrack is a treasure trove of oldies but goodies, but the four boys (and the actors portraying them) are what make the film so great.

Jerry O’Connell is adorably dumpy as Vern. He does this weird thing with his mouth when he talks that might as well be subtitled “ah-doi.” It’s really hard to believe the beautiful man he is now really used to be this dopey little klutz. Vern is a bit of a punching bag to the others (literally, in Teddy’s case), but there’s also this sweet naiveté to him, this innocence that hasn’t been corrupted by a whole lot of hardship. I mean, if the worst thing to ever happen to you is that you lost a jar of pennies under your porch, then you’re either living a charmed life or a blissfully ignorant one. In Vern’s case, I’d definitely say it’s the latter, but it doesn’t make him any less likable. He’s a doof, yeah, but he’s a well-meaning, good-natured doof.

Teddy, on the other hand, is pretty dark. He’s aggressive and loud and is fascinated by violence. He’d been horribly maimed by his father, yet he still worships the guy, as if storming the beach at Normandy makes everything else okay. He’s all over the place, really, acting out one minute, being all self-serious the next. Today he’d probably be diagnosed with some sort of mood disorder, but back then he was just an “active” boy or some such. He’s definitely less likable than Vern, but you still see what the others see in him, and that’s quite a balance to pull off. God, remember when Corey Feldman could legitimately act?

Gordie is quiet and small, clearly smarter than the others and also more introspective. He misses his brother Denny (John Cusack) who died a few months prior, and he doesn’t know how to act anymore because of it — not with his parents, or with people who compare him to Denny, or even anyone who just brings Denny up in conversation. He tells a good story, though, and since both Denny and Chris encouraged that talent, he holds onto it. People take Gordie for granted, but he’s not the pushover everyone thinks he is, and he can definitely put Ace in his place. (With the helpful hardware man?) He’s a little shy and a little scared, but he stands by his friends and he sticks to what he believes in. It might be that the story is being told from his perspective, but you’ve got to admire that in a person. Gordie is also, as far as I’m concerned, the best, most nuanced character Wil Wheaton ever played. I really liked Gordie as a girl, and I don’t think anyone picked him out to be the type to crush on, but he was a lot like I was, and I responded to it.

Of course, not even I was immune to the sexy pre-adolescence of River Phoenix as Chris Chambers. I may have been the most like Gordie, but wounded bad-boy-trying-to-make-good Chris set off all my instinctual attraction triggers, even then. He was quiet, too, and thoughtful, but he had a tough exterior and a hard life that he was always trying to escape. People in town may have thought he was shit, but deep down in his heart he was a good person, and that came screaming through his tight little white t-shirt. It’s incredible to me that both — Chris and River — would die tragically, well before either one of their times. More than any other of River’s films, this one makes me nearly cry to think about the talent and potential that was lost. He was just so good here.

All the boys were great, in fact, and somehow each one of them managed to portray a character that perfectly fit the description of their older selves the narrator gives at the close of his tale. And the line about Chris, “Although I hadn’t seen him in more than ten years, I know I’ll miss him forever,” is perfect. I wish he would’ve ended the story right then, in fact, because the actual last line that he types, about never having friends again like he did when he was twelve, then “Jesus, does anyone,” is a horrible pile of schockly hack crap. Is that how Stephen King closes his novels? Fingers crossed that whole last paragraph gets edited out in the revision phase.

Now go play with your kids.

MY MOVIE SHELF: Sneakers

 

The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015.  Remaining movies: 178  Days to go: 123

Movie #260:  Sneakers

This is where I get myself in trouble. I had a friend in junior high and high school who I went to a lot of movies with. She and I seemed pretty different — I don’t think anyone would’ve expected us to be friends — but we actually had very similar sensibilities. We both hated people, had a wry outlook on the world, shared a particular sense of humor and lots of inside jokes no one else in the world would get, and we both loved Quantum Leap and Star Wars (not Star Trek), among other things (especially if they featured Harrison Ford). Not only that, but we both wrote, both appreciated great stories, and both liked to go to the movies. So we went together pretty often.

Back in 1992, this dear friend of mine wanted to go see Sneakers, a star-studded spy film of sorts. I snubbed this idea in a big way, because frankly the movie looked like a snooze fest, and we never went to see it. I put the film completely out of my mind.

Jump ahead several months, when Sneakers came out on video. My parents rented it from our local Blockbuster, and I ended up watching it with them, probably because I had nothing better to do. Lo and behold, Sneakers is fantastic! It’s clever and funny and twisty and intriguing and not boring at all. I went into school the next day and, at lunch, started raving about this great new movie I’d just seen. My dear friend, bless her, got so (rightfully) irritated with me. She told me off and reminded me how she’d wanted to see it in the first place and remains bitter about it to this day, any time the subject comes up. It’s pretty funny, and I can’t help but laugh, but I am also sincerely sorry and ashamed for my dumbassery. (She won’t admit it, not that she ever did because that’s not the kind of friends (or even the kind of people) we are, but she still loves me.)

Anyway.

Sneakers stars Robert Redford, Sidney Poitier, Dan Aykroyd, River Phoenix and David Strathairn as a rogue group of questionable characters living on the fringes of society, doing freelance “security” work, by which they mean breaking into places for a fee in order to expose that place’s weaknesses. They each have their individual quirks, but Redford’s character Martin Bishop has actually been a fugitive from justice for over twenty years. When a couple of guys from the NSA show up and reveal they know Bishop’s secret, the team gets caught up in a case of espionage and digital encryption that puts their lives at risk, and evil mastermind Cosmo (Ben Kingsley) has a special connection to Martin’s past. (“I cannot kill my friend. Kill my friend.”) Essentially, there are Too Many Secrets, and they’re all about to come to light.

Mary McDonnell is sadly the only female presence of any substance, as Marty’s ex Liz, but she’s so delightfully over all the bullshit these guys come up with, it’s kind of great. It doesn’t stop her from helping them, of course, but it makes for an entertaining time. And her interaction with Stephen Tobolowsky’s Werner Brandes is the highlight of the film. (“Shall I phone you or nudge you?”)

A special appearance by James Earl Jones as the put-upon NSA agent Mr. Abbott rounds out a spectacular cast full of lots of fun performances, which is exactly the sort of thing that makes the film so great to watch.

Oh, and they kind of predicted the whole thing about the NSA spying on Americans a full twenty-something years before Edward Snowden dropped that same bombshell. I guess they got that box working after all.