Dear George Lucas…
May 25, 2008
Please, for the love of all that is holy, let your successful twenty-five year old franchises die.
Yes, I'm talking about the abomination that is Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
After taking me out for an early birthday dinner at TexAZ, Marc and I saw that mess tonight, and afterward we both left the theater shaking our heads in disbelief.
It was bad enough when you went back and "improved," tinkered with and fucked up the original STAR WARS. But then you gave us those three illegitimate bastards—the prequels—overloaded with bombastic special effects, plagued by poor writing and even poorer casting, you finally crossed the line. I mean seriously…Hayden Christensen? Midi-chlorians? What were you thinking?
And now you resurrect Indiana Jones—like something Mr. Jones himself would dig up in an ancient Mayan temple. Please, Mr. Lucas…let us live with our memories unmolested!
It was a much different world when you loosed Indy upon an unsuspecting public those many years ago. But in the intervening decades, the world has changed—dramatically, and the things that seemed so fresh and unique in 1981 have in 2008 already been rehashed and reinterpreted a dozen times over.
The car chase between our heroes and the Russians? Uh…excuse me, but you did almost that exact same thing with speeder bikes in Return of the Jedi. (Maybe it slipped your mind.) It was exciting then. Tonight I was looking at my watch. And what was up with the monkeys-as-Ewoks thing? Are you planning on marketing plush Indiana Jones© marmosets in time for Christmas?
Ancient space aliens and buried UFOs? Been there, done that. The X-Files movie, anyone?
Villains arriving with the sound of a revolver being cocked seconds after our protagonists finally find what they're looking for? That dramatic effect is so far past it's sell-by date that the carton is about to explode on the shelf.
Maybe I'm confused, but I thought the city of El Dorado was buried under Mount Rushmore. Oh wait, that was National Treasure: Book of Secrets. (At least Harrison Ford still has all his own hair—or at least a much better hairpiece than Nicholas Cage.)
And speaking of Harrison, exactly how much petroleum jelly did your camera man have to smear over the lens for those tight shots on Mr. Ford? I was reminded of Lucille Ball in Mame and that tended to distract my attention from what was happening on screen. Seriously.
One last question: was the wedding scene at the end of the film really necessary? You could've easily left our merry little group sitting on that mountain top and everything would have been well in the world. But nooo! Can't you leave the continued story of the life and times of Indiana Jones up to the imaginations of your audience?
And lastly, don't even think about continuing the story with a fresh face. When Mutt (Shia LeBeouf) was about to pick up Jones' fedora at the end of the movie, the entire audience groaned. Thank the gods Indy snatched it away as he walked out.
Mr. Lucas, you've had a good life and have entertained billions of people. But it's now time to step away from the movie business and enjoy a much-deserved retirement. PLEASE.
Sincerely,
Alexander the Moviegoer
Phoenix, AZ
P.S. Cate Blanchett really needs to work on that Russian accent. It faded in and out more than a bad cell phone signal.