I went into this movie trying not to expect much. After the trauma the Star Wars prequels inflicted on me, I’ve become deeply suspicious of George Lucas’ efforts to revive the pop culture touchstones of my childhood. But soon comes a scene of Indy dodging Soviet bullets in a musty Army warehouse and I’m beginning to think that not every eagerly anticipated thing in life has to end in disappointment. For the first hour, Spielberg executes one bravura moment of popcorn cinema after another.
The second half…not so much. The story gets bogged down in its efforts to lead the audience through a breadcrumb trail. The CGI is glaringly obvious in parts and the science fiction elements are kludgy. This fourth chapter of the Indy franchise doesn’t sustain the same exhilarating pace of the original, but then again, I’m not eight years old anymore. Indy’s prime may be past, but the film didn’t rob him of his essential coolness. And now, Mr. Lucas, it’s time to leave well enough alone.
