Time Travel Time: I saw Indy V...

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, directed by James (The Wolverine/Logan) Mangold (who cowrote with David Koepp and Jezz and John Henry Butterworth), is the fifth, theatrical chapter for seasoned adventurer. I'll say this, it's got its heart in the right place, but at the end of the day, it's at best and most an energetic mixed bag. 

The content commences with a hefty end-of-WWII prelude (with another actor sporting Harrison Ford's digitalized face), where Indy tangles with Nazis who are after The Spear of Longinus (that which pierced Christ), but instead come upon a half of The Dial of Destiny (aka The Antikythera Mechanism). The intricate device was constructed by Greek mathematician, Archimedes, who imbued it with the calculating ability to locate fissures in time that allow one to pass through and alter the course of history (a plot element similar to The Flash's and the continuing Marvel Avengers queue, though in this instance it rolls more like H.G. Wells, flavored by a Siege of Syracuse twist; hint hint). 

After the prologue, we bounce to 1969 (the time of The Lunar Landing) and find a weary, almost-retired Indy conducting a class when, lo and behold, his relic-robbing goddaughter, Helena Shaw, played by Phoebe Waller Bridge, recruits him to locate The Dial's other half. This agitating turn leads to a heap of bickering between the two, but at least good ol' Antonia Banderas intervenes as salty diver Renaldo, along with the magnificent Mads Mikkelsen (who also appears in the prologue) as the villainous Jurgen Voller, a (fictional) scientist who ushered the moon mission. Voller wishes to make The Dial whole again with a little help from his henchmen friends, led by Agent Klaber, played with cut-and-dry curtness by Boyd Holbrook. 

The overriding problem with Dial is not Bridge (who's a solid enough actress) but Shaw. To the character's benefit, she does display some fetching spunk (i.e. Willie Scott-spun diversions), but she's far too crooked to sustain cheers throughout the sojourn. And to those who may claim I'm objecting to her for being "a strong woman," I'd like to point out that I'm admirer of many strong, cinematic females, in particular Lara Croft. Alas, Shaw throws matters asunder with too much know-it-all distractions and far worse, a misunderstanding of her goals. (For one, she degrades capitalism yet seeks extreme wealth. For another, she aligns herself with others, but doesn't shed a tear when a compatriot falls.)

And for the record, I don't mind Indy being old (shoot, Sean Connery's Henry Jones was "old" and still got it on with Alison Doody's Elsa Schneider), but I don't like him waddling around like some disoriented place holder, which he often does. Okay, in all fairness, this aged Indy isn't all that bad, and yes, he does rise to the occasion by landing punches, riding a horse through NYC and even deals with eels (for all intents, underwater snakes), but watching him do so kinda smarts. In other words, one can't help but wince when he leaps into action, and that blunts the fantasy's believability, and even the most fanciful fantasies require more than a suspension of disbelief. (Consider sturdy Sly Stallone in Tulsa King.) 

This is supposed to be the last, Harrison Ford Indy movie, and I guess it's a decent enough sendoff, but if this is the end, does that mean that Shaw now carries the torch? Does that mean (contrary to Kathleen Kennedy's claim) that Chris Pratt (or Tom Hardy, Ryan Gosling, Sam Worthington or maybe, just maybe, Ford lookalike, Anthony Ingruber) will play a spry Indy in prequels with straight-shooting stories like long-time admirers desire, or will this chapter's time-travel gimmick jumble it all about, so that it lands up who-knows-where? (DC and Marvel look out!) Hey, I've no idea. I guess this is just another case in point where time (ahem) will tell.