Steven Spielberg
Indiana Jones e il Regno Del Teschio di Cristallo

THE REVIEW

Once there was Indiana Jones with a capital 'I', and there was also a kid who dreamed of his adventures, his heart swelling with joy at just hearing those triumphant few notes that set him apart from everyone else.

I don't know what reasons drive the "Lucas/Spielberg" duo to write and make a film like this.

Perhaps there were good intentions, but everything was corrupted, I believe by fear, fear of feeling old, and so they have to surprise at all costs, ending up in driven farce.

Perhaps they don't remember that having the map leading to the treasure autographed by Hitler is worth a hundred times more than surviving a nuclear explosion in a refrigerator, that escaping from a tank falling into an abyss is worth a hundred times more than escaping from killer ants, that finding the Ark of the Covenant is immensely more profound than putting a skull back in place.

They don't remember that fighting with an angry "Nazistone" teetering between the blades of a plane is worth a hundred times more than a couple of fencing bouts with a barely peeved Russian.

They forgot that having a drink with Sean Connery is a hundred times better than exchanging a couple of jokes with an expressionless preteen sidekick.

And so they take refuge behind special effects, behind already seen scenes; perhaps due to "Spielberg's" passion for aliens and a penchant for the pompous from "Lucas," a plot was born so exacerbated, too surreal even for an Indiana Jones movie.

Communists, flying saucers, crystal aliens, aquatic abysses, and an ending that seems to be taken directly from that of the second mummy.

What to accuse them of, if not forgetting how to make cinema, forgetting that the greatest treasure is the love a fan feels for a saga.

And that defending a small treasure like the original trilogy is immensely more important than going back to being kids behind the camera.