‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ Movie Review: A Solidly Rousing Coda That Indy Deserves
Photo from Disney
From Jeremy Kibler
No matter where you stand on 2008’s Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (it’s good fun, and that’s final), Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny reminds us again how much we missed seeing the bullwhip-snapping, snake-fearing archeologist in another adventure. It will never not be great to see Harrison Ford donning the fedora, but if this is indeed Indy’s last outing, director James Mangold does give the character the solidly rousing and ultimately lovely coda he deserves.
Being the first Indiana Jones film without Steven Spielberg attached, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny nonetheless finds that Lucas/Spielbergian touch with a firm sense of fun. It starts with the 1945-set prologue, where Indy (a de-aged Ford) and his friend Professor Basil Shaw (Toby Jones) run afoul of punchable Nazis in stealing back Archimedes’ dial. Even with advancements in visual effects, nothing can actually replicate Raiders of the Lost Ark, but the de-aging effects make for some movie magic. There are spots where the trick does fall into the “uncanny valley,” almost looking too animated, but for the most part, it’s pretty seamless. The entire sequence, taking place inside and then on top of a moving train, plays out thrillingly like a standalone adventure and, of course, connects to the plot proper.
It is hard to believe that in the span of 42 years—from 1981’s Raiders of the Lost Ark to now—these films have only reached 1969 in terms of their time period, but the year Apollo 11 landed humans on the moon is our present day. Indy is retiring as a New York professor and down in the dumps about separating from wife Marion (Karen Allen), until his goddaughter shows up. It’s Helena “Wombat” Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), an archaeology graduate and the daughter of Basil Shaw who now shares her father’s interest in Archimedes’ Antikythera. Might they find time for one last globe-trotting adventure?
Harrison Ford—and by default, Dr. Jones—is no longer a spring chicken, but the film seems respectful of the 80-year-old actor. When he’s able to still spring into action, it doesn’t feel like a stunt double. Playing Indy as a grumpy old man who hates his noisy neighbors, Ford also seems happy to be back in the saddle and not just out of obligation. Mads Mikkelsen does zhuzh up the part of physicist Jürgen Voller/Dr. Schmidt, who also seeks the dial, but even with an actor of this pedigree, Boyd Holbrook actually makes even more an impression as a rash henchman, having a flair for being a baddie we love to hate. Then there’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge (TV’s Fleabag), breathing so much life into the proceedings as Indy’s goddaughter Helena Shaw, a flip and slippery heroine for our main hero with whom to exchange banter.
Without ever feeling like a belated sequel that tries too hard to make us remember the past, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny delivers the hallmarks from this now-five-film saga in satisfying fashion. From the swelling of John Williams’ score, to the plane-traveling map transitions, to the sight of old friends, every desirable beat is here. Even if there can never enough of them, there are even creepy-crawly encounters and a resourceful young sidekick (this time a pickpocket named Teddy, played by Ethan Bergua-Isidore) to recall Temple of Doom.
Screenwriters Jez Butterworth & John-Henry Butterworth and David Koepp and director James Mangold concoct a plot of keep away—and going to the place to get the thing—that mostly whips along at two and a half hours. When there is some downtime for the McGuffin exposition, Mangold is soon off to the next set-piece. Proving he can be more than a workmanlike craftsman, Mangold does deliver the playful, breathlessly paced derring-do. Indy makes a thrilling escape from his captors in a city parade/demonstration by horse, leading to a close-call in a subway tunnel. In the film’s most exhilarating sequence, Indy, Helena, and Teddy then find themselves in a dual chase while driving tuk tuks through the streets of Tangier. There’s also an underwater attack with eels (why’d it have to be eels?), and finally, one big climax that only begins in a Sicilian tomb.
None of Indiana Jones’ adventures are too silly. Not the face-melting Arks, the burning stones, an immortality drinking cup, or even the flying saucers. The sought-after Dial of Destiny feels of a piece. While the film still does take a creative swing with this particular artifact, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny plays things safe everywhere else. That’s not to say it’s perfunctory; it’s just a jot less inspired than the previous four pictures, and these things don’t just exist in a vacuum. What it is, however, is spirited and reliable, like getting on a good old-fashioned ride for old times’ sake.
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny hits theaters on June 30, 2023.
Rating: 3.5/5
