Richard's Online Journal
Kingdom of the Crystal Dull
(thumps sobbing head against desk)
Now I know how the Star Wars fans felt when Jar-Jar’s face appeared that first time. This movie is horrible on every level, including the eighth level of Hell I felt myself slipping into when I saw the name David “Jurassic Park 2” Koepp appear in the opening credits. I would rather defend the works of Erich Von Daniken to James Randi than have this be an official episode of the series. As the ants chomped on Cate Blanchetska’s bodyguard, all I could think was ‘Take me with you!” I preferred… I pref… I preferred…
I preferred National Treasure 2: Even Dumber Than Da Vinci Code to an actual Indy film. For this, Lucas and Spielberg can never be forgiven. Never!
The only thing that could possibly feel longer than the movie itself is a list of all the ways it sucked. I’d type one, but I’m busy trying to concuss myself into believing it’s still a trilogy, not a quadrilogy whose newly added plot holes need safety barriers around them to prevent in-cinema fatalities. The characters. The science. Gawky lovestruck Marion. Mutt so much as daring to touch the One True Fedora in a clear bid for a spin-off where the stunt double doesn’t get more face-time than the star. Ray Goddamn Winstone.
Horrible, horrible, horrible. But still better than Temple of Doom…
As far as I’m concerned, this is the Never Say Never Again of the Indy films; the original Casino Royale to Broccoli’s Bond films. The fourth film was the movie version of Fate of Atlantis. And it was awesome, with some extra awe thrown in for good measure.
You remember it too. Right? If we all believe, maybe it’ll have happened…