If adventure has a name, it must be Indiana
Jones.
But if adventure movies could have three names, they would be Steven
Spielberg, George Lucas, and Harrison Ford.
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)
remains one of the most brilliantly-crafted action blockbusters of the last several
decades, and is a testament to the collaborative efforts of those talents name-checked above.
As Richard Schickel noted in his original Time Magazine review:
“The simple craftsmanship evident throughout [the film], the attention to detail, which,
as the special-effects people like to say, "sells the shot," puts the viewer in mind of an almost vanished
habit of meticulous movie-making.”
Like Star Wars (1977) before it, Raiders
of the Lost Ark is more than a simple adventure film, however. It is also a
pastiche, a descriptor meaning that the film meaningfully
draws its inspiration from other, historical works of art.
In this case, Lucas and Spielberg knowingly style
their 1981 adventure film after the serials or chapter-plays of the 1930s and
early 1940s. Nearly every aspect of the picture
-- including character “types,”
contextual backdrop, and even choice of wardrobe -- emerges from the movie serials
of this span.
But intriguingly, such elements are re-purposed
for modern audiences as symbols or signifiers of “innocence” during an epoch of what could fairly be described as cynical,
technological movie-making.
Legendarily, Raiders of the Lost Ark was devised
by an exhausted and depleted George Lucas following the difficult production of Star
Wars. The project also appealed
to a post-Jaws (1975) and post-1941 (1979) Steven Spielberg on the
basis that it would prove a deliberate step-away from -- and rebuke of -- the
“mechanical” effects and challenges of those pictures; the worlds of matte-paintings,
blue-screens, motion-control cameras, and other cutting edge hardware.
Yet Raiders of the Lost Ark serves as
more than mere romantic response to modern, technological filmmaking. It also
shares a crucial creative element or conceit with such 1930s films as King
Kong (1933).
In particular, the
film serves as both a critique
of a morally rudderless, secular Modernity and as an invitation for contemporary
movie audiences to imagine a “larger” world outside the confines of “The West”
or “Western Thought.”
Thus, Raiders of the Lost Ark escorts
viewers to a world where not every mystery is resolved, where not every miracle
is quantified, and where not every problem is diagnosable. It showcases a world, quite simply, where you can
still believe in magic…and still feel wonder -- and yes, fear -- at facets of life beyond the boundaries of human understanding.
Raiders of the Lost Ark
also explicitly concerns the First World’s whole-sale plundering of the Third
World for its treasures. And this plundering
-- particularly for golden artifacts
-- is no doubt a metaphor for the oil trade, and also for western imperialism
or colonialism in general terms.
But intriguingly, the Lucas/Spielberg film also acknowledges that in “excavating” the resource-rich Third
World, some heretofore dismissed mystical or mythological aspect of those
cultures may find new relevance or meaning in the glittering and advanced -- but
ultimately spirit-sapped -- Age of Reason.
In other words, in the process of strip-mining Africa, the Far East, Peru, or the Middle East for its treasures, the denizens of the First World also
discover some lost connection to their own history, or even their diminished sense of
spirituality and humanity.
Beyond the “fortune
and glory” of avaricious, individual aspiration stands the possibility of
renewing one’s faith, and buttressing lost or faltering belief. This very notion is the thematic undercurrent
not only for Raiders of the Lost Ark, but for all the Indiana Jones films. A world-weary and at times dissolute man of Modernity finds in buried or forgotten Antiquity the magic that is lacking in his life, and in his "new age" of science. Indiana Jones may claim that Archaeology is the search for facts, not "truth" (the purview of Philosophy, he states), but in terms of the films, this is not strictly the case.
This overriding theme of rediscovered faith in re-discovered articles of Antiquity is powerfully visualized in
Raiders
of the Lost Ark, especially in regards to the unearthly, dreadful power of the
Ark. The film is rife with literal “Wrath
of God”-type visuals which suggest a power outside human comprehension. This
unseen, gathering force grows in strength (and anger…) as Nazis and Indiana
Jones himself threaten to “disturb” the Ark from it sanctuary and long slumber.
The discovery of this priceless religious
artifact in Raiders of the Lost Ark by two figures who have “fallen from faith” -- Indiana Jones
(Harrison Ford) and Rene Belloq (Paul Freeman) -- also pulsates at the heart of
the picture.
Both men unexpectedly see their lapsed faith
renewed -- though in drastically differing fashions -- during the film’s
explosive denouement. Importantly, however,
this new-found sense of faith or belief arises from their reckoning with an
ancient Holy Object, one totally outside their respective allegiances during the
technological but inhumane World War II era.
To depict a hero who has lost faith and then
finds it again, Spielberg frequently crafts visuals (with DP Douglas Slocombe)
that diagram remarkable depth and detail, ones heavy on dark and light. These are the film’s compositions of
“shadow,” and they pinpoint a morally uncertain Indiana Jones perched half-way
between good and evil.
He could, it seems, go either way at this
juncture, and Raiders of the Lost Ark is his story of, finally, of
redemption…of emergence from the shadows of doubt, guilt, and existential angst.
Girded with thrill-a-minute fight sequences and exhilarating
chases, Raiders of the Lost Ark thrives even today not only because it
is jaunty, good-humored nature, but because it seeks to excavate in its audience a
well-spring of authentic wonder, a belief that those things that seem buried in
our past --whether a holy relic, the
tradition of the 1930s movie serial, or even an individual sense of spirituality --
can find relevance and new meaning in an age of cynicism and calculation.
“Inside the Ark are
treasures beyond your wildest aspirations.”
After returning empty-handed from a
hazardous trip to Peru, archaeologist and professor Indiana Jones (Ford) is
contacted at his university by two officers from U.S. Army Intelligence.
These officers inform Indy that Adolf
Hitler is “obsessed with the occult”
and that he has sent his armies across the globe to recover any relics or
treasures relating to it. Within
Hitler’s reach now is the Ark of the Covenant, the mysterious container
which is believed to have once housed the stone tablets of the Ten
Commandments.
Mankind has searched for the Ark for three
thousand years, and now Hitler wants it because it can “level mountains” and render any army which carries it “invincible.”
During their world-wide hunt for the Ark,
the Nazis have also revealed an unusual interest in Abner Ravenwood, Indy’s
American mentor, with whom he had a falling out some time ago. Ravenwood possesses the
head-piece of the “Staff of Ra,” a
ceremonial object that can locate the precise location of the Ark inside the
long-buried city of Tanis.
Army Intelligence wants Jones to acquire
the head-piece first, and also recover the Ark before the Nazis can do so.
Indy’s first stop on this journey is
Nepal. There, he learns that Ravenwood
is dead, and that Marion (Karen Allen), Abner’s beautiful daughter, is in
possession of the head-piece. Marion is
also Indy’s former lover -- and a spurned
one at that -- and is reluctant to part with the jeweled head-piece because
of the bad blood between them.
When Nazi agents, led by the sinister Toht
(Ronald Lacey), burn down Marion’s bar in pursuit of the same artifact,
however, she agrees to partner with Jones on his quest.
Indy and Marion head to Cairo next, where
they work with Indy’s old friend and an expert digger, Sallah (John Rhys-Davies)
to locate the Tanis Map Room. Sallah
reports that the Nazis are digging in the wrong place, and that there is still
time to excavate and recover the Ark from the Well of Souls.
After several hazardous brushes with the
Nazis and his French rival, Belloq (Freeman), Indy and Marion finally retrieve
the Ark...and then once more lose the prized artifact to them.
In the end, Indiana Jones and Marion must
stand witness to the mysterious and fearsome powers of the Ark of the Covenant,
as Belloq does the unthinkable, and opens it…
“The Ark…it is something that man was
not meant to disturb. Death has always surrounded it. It is not of this Earth.”
In the 1930s and 1940s, Hollywood studios such as Republic,
Universal, Mascot, and Columbia succeeded at the box office by producing a
steady diet of serials, or chapter plays.
These adventure films highlighted weekly cliff-hangers and stories of
derring-do. Audiences watched these
chapter-plays (usually about twenty-minutes in duration per segment…) and then
returned to the theater the following ten weeks or so to see how their heroes fared
following apparently-impossible-to-escape perils.
These 1930s-1940s serials arrived in a variety of modes or
genres, but can nonetheless be organized by four categories, broadly-speaking. There were space-based serials (Flash
Gordon, Buck Rogers), superhero serials (Batman, Captain America, Captain
Marvel), western serials (The Lone Ranger) and, last but not
least, “adventure” serials often featuring a larger-than-life hero engaged in a
dangerous quest (usually in a jungle or other "uncivilized" territory by Modernity's standards).
Indeed, “the adventurer” in the fourth sub-type of serial would often travel to some lost kingdom, country, island, or village (Darkest Africa [1936], The
Secret of Treasure Island [1938], The Valley of the Vanishing Men
[1942], Raiders of Ghost City [1944]) in search of lost treasure. The adventurer/hero was sometimes an agent for
the U.S. government too, and might end up battling forces of the Axis Powers --
Germany and Japan -- in efforts such as Don Winslow of the Coast Guard
(1943), The Adventures of Smiling Jack (1943), and Secret Service in Darkest Africa
(1943).
Virtually all of the 1930s-1940s serials featured a hero with
a memorable name, such as Ace Drummond, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, Frank
Merriwell, Kit Carson, Don Winslow, Red Barry, or Red Ryder. And many of these protagonists frequently wore a hat so
that it was easy to stunt-double the lead actor during fight scenes.
Clearly, Indiana Jones fits easily into this serial tradition,
right down to his trademark fedora. The cliffhangers are present in the 1981 film too, and Raiders’
boasts an episodic structure that hinges on extreme danger, and then
sudden resolution of that danger.
The conventional serial format imitated by Raiders also often features a sidekick of a comic nature, a role that Sallah happily conforms to in Raiders of the Lost Ark,
Short Round plays in Temple of Doom, and Marcus Brody
fills in The Last Crusade. These
characters not only back-up the protagonist and provide levity to alleviate
tension, they provide someone for the hero to rescue so more derring-do is possible.
The backdrop for such tales, as noted above, is often explicitly World
War II, and involves evil foreign agents, with names like “The Scorpion.” These agents
often infiltrate non-aligned countries so as to procure their resources and/or
loyalties in the conflict. The villains
generally fall into the comic-book general villain/soldier-villain dichotomy,
which again one can detect clearly in terms of Belloq and Toht in Raiders.
Belloq is the brains and cunning, whereas Toht is the muscle or enforcer.
Straight-forward and patriotic, the 1930s-1940s movie serials mostly eschewed
nuance or subtlety in storytelling, and succeeded as pure entertainment; as roller-coaster or thrill ride. They
were literally “black and white" in format and theme.
Raiders knowingly absorbs all the creative ingredients
of such serials, as noted above, but the game it plays is a bit more
complex. The film harks back to a more
innocent time not only in terms of movie narratives, but in terms of
movie-making itself; what Spielberg described as a “James Bond movie without hardware” in an
interview with Janet Maslin. The
black-and-white aesthetic remains virtually intact, only updated for color cinema. Visually-speaking, the film's black-and-white presentation actually involve shades of light and dark, and menacing, obfuscating shadows.
Upon re-watching Raiders of the Lost Ark for this
review, I was reminded how beautiful and textured the cinematography remains. Spielberg conveys a great deal
of information about character and plot through visual means, and via compositions that stress shadows,
or the interplay of light and dark.
In particular,
Indiana Jones himself is often visualized as being half-in and half-out of the
shadows. When he is acting as a
“grave-robber” in Peru for instance, at the commencement of the film, we see him emerge from the shadows, but not completely. The shadows still cloak and obscure parts of his visage, in part because he is an unknown quantity to the audience. Is he a mercenary, a grave-robber, an historian or a scientist? It's not entirely clear at this juncture.
Similarly, when Indy attempts to
procure from Marion the head-piece to the Staff of Ra -- and not entirely
honestly at that -- even darker shadows fall across his face. We see nothing of Indy's face save for his furtive, cunning eyes, and the imagery suggests that he is hiding much. Here, Indy seems truly in danger of becoming like Belloq...a
man without faith, and more than that, without goodness.
When Marion first spies Indy in the film, in her saloon in
Nepal, he is visualized by Spielberg entirely as a shadow on the wall, at least at first. Again, consider the details of their personal relationship. Indy romanced Marion when she was very young (and likely made love to
her…), and then went about his way, with hardly a look back. Marion has never forgiven or forgotten him, and
this memory of a failed romance has driven her to the ends of the Earth, literally.
Indiana Jones is thus, literally, a colossal shadow
looming over Marion's life, and her decisions.
When she first sees him again, after all these years, in Raiders
of the Lost Ark, that’s precisely as Indy appears in the frame, as an
over-sized shadow dwarfing her body. He is as large and imposing as she has made him in her memory.
Finally, another trenchant example: when Belloq speaks to a heart-broken Indy at a Cairo
restaurant, Indy is seen in the foreground of the frame, under a cloak of shadows that
echoes his cloak of mourning (at Marion’s apparent demise). But there’s more
going on in this scene than meets the eye. It is here that
Belloq refers to Indy as his “mirror,” and he discusses with him how they are both men without faith, and thus very much alike.
Indy slips into shadow in this composition because he very much fears that Belloq's words are accurate. His obsession -- his desire to reclaim various
treasures of Antiquity for fortune and glory -- has caused him to cut corners, and to endanger those
whom he loves. Indy believes Marion is dead, and that, furthermore he caused her death. All we need to understand this state-of-mind is the prominent image of his face beneath the
shroud of shadows. He is a man whose soul is in a precarious condition.
Man of Shadows: Grave robber or archaelogist? |
Motives: Pure or shadowy? |
The Shadow that looms over Marion's li fe. |
The Shadows of Guilt is like a shroud over Indy. |
If light and dark, shadow and light, play a crucial role in
the visual aspects of Raiders of the Lost Ark, the film features another significant visual leitmotif: the wrath of God as a tangible force in the real world; though one
unnoticed…until it is too late.
Several
times through-out the film, an “ill-wind” blows -- without apparent “rational” or scientific cause -- and this wind is the unseen breath of God, gaining in power as both
Indiana Jones and the Nazis grow closer to recovering the Ark of the
Covenant.
The old wise man who translates the head-piece of the Staff
of Ra reads a warning to Indy not to disturb the Ark of the Covenant, and that ultimatum is the key to this “ill-wind” motif.
Brody similarly warns Indy about the dangers of the Ark, and the fact
that it holds secrets "no man can know."
But meanwhile, Belloq is not afraid of this
possibility, and contextualizes the Ark as something “not of this Earth.” He calls it
“a transmitter…a radio for speaking to God,” but is so vain and arrogant that he does not fear trespass against the Divine (or, perhaps, the alien...).
The strange, unnatural -- or supernatural? -- ill-wind blows for the first time in Raiders of the Lost Ark immediately before the fight
scene in Nepal. Marion sits alone in her
bar, before a single candle, and the flame flutters in the wind suddenly as
she regards the head-piece of the Staff of Ra, and determines to be Jones’
partner in the recovery of the Ark.
The
wind does not blow because Indiana Jones has left the saloon and let in the freezing air, or because Toht has entered
the building, mind you. The wind -- for no Earthly
reason -- threatens the candle’s life, and the flame quivers uncertainly. This is the first warning, the first exhale of God's wrath, perhaps.
The next time the Wrath of God is suggested in terms of
visuals, the wind is much stronger, perhaps because the end of the quest is nearer, and the Ark is that much closer to excavation. The old man in Cairo reads the warning on the head-piece to
Indy, and suddenly the hanging lamps in the old man’s home begin to sway, and a
cloud of dust gusts up from the floor. Again, the wind seems to have come from nowhere. The Wrath of God is nearer.
This ill-wind next becomes a storm, when, by night, Sallah and Indy
crack the seal of the Well of Souls, and access to the Ark is revealed at last. Overhead, in the impenetrable night, a strange, unearthly storm gathers, thunder
roars, and lightning crackles. This atmospheric disturbance represents the
most significant warning yet not to trespass in God’s domain, not to attempt to
possess that which man is not yet meant to “know.”
After the Ark is recovered and stored in a Nazi crate, the
most indisputable sign yet of God’s anger is seen. A rat near the crate starts to go
crazy -- as if hearing or processing some kind of unearthly signal -- and the
Nazi symbol on the crate’s side burns up…as if Evil cannot stand firm, or even exist at all, in the
face of Pure Good.
Finally, of course, when the Ark is opened, all Hell breaks
loose.
The ill-wind finally manifests…first as blue-tinged wind (like the blue sky of the thunder storm over Tanis..), and then as vengeful, flying angels. The wind becomes fire (and remember the
flickering of the candle in Marion’s saloon…), and it immediately melts and destroys the
Nazis. Then, a supernatural windstorm of shocking ferocity blows through the temple, and back up to Heaven, as the sky opens
up to receive it.
The Wrath of God -- hinted at and
warned about throughout Raiders of the Lost Ark -- has delivered its final judgment.
It starts with a candle's flicker... |
Then a wind from nowhere shakes the hanging lamps (in the background)... |
When the Ark is found, the sky opens up, and storm clouds roll in. |
Sacrilege is punished. |
And punished.... |
...and punished. |
The candle flicker is now an all-consuming fire. |
And the Heavens open up at last, to receive the Power of God. |
There is much more to Raiders of the Lost Ark than these subtle and meaningful visual leitmotifs, but taken together they tell a story about modern man and his arrogance...and his spiritual emptiness. One "obtainer of rare antiquities" in the film pursues fame and fortune -- or perhaps self-glorification -- and dies. The other re-discovers faith, and survives, his belief in wonder restored.
There are so many other great and downright remarkable aspects to this film, but in passing, I must also mention the desert truck chase, which remains a model of dazzling stunt-work and rapid editing. This stunning set-piece moves with certainty, confidence and momentum, and never lets up, even for a second. It must certainly qualify as one of the top five action sequences in the modern cinema.
I also appreciate and admire Harrison Ford's performance as Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark. He is never afraid to reveal vulnerability, or the fact that Indiana Jones is a a bit of an unscrupulous scoundrel. This character, unlike the revised Han Solo, shoots first (against the Cairo Swordsman), is likely an alcoholic, and is an unrepentant womanizer.
Later films in the Indiana Jones cycle (namely Last Crusade and Crystal Kingdom) attempt to lionize and sterilize the character, and ret-con him into a stolid, "it belongs in a museum!" fuddy-duddy, but for Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy is a real man, with real desires, and real foibles. In my opinion, that makes him seem all the more heroic.
Finally, I love the film's last sequence. It's the perfect capper visually to the narrative, and also in terms of the film's thematic material. The Ark -- a symbol of a wondrous, lost age, and powers behind human comprehension -- is sealed up, locked away, and forgotten. Humdrum Modernity can't parse, categorize or understand it, and so it relegates the Ark to a warehouse of "mysteries," all forgotten...perhaps to be excavated once more in another three thousand years.
On Friday, I review Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1984), so stick around.
John brilliant review. Raiders Of The Lost Ark is still the greatest Indiana Jones film yet made. Spielberg's direction made this film a timeless, as if filmed in the old studio system.
ReplyDeleteSGB
Thank you, my friend. I agree. Raiders is my favorite (though I am a fan of all four films...), but Spielberg's direction here is amazing...stunning even.
Delete1
ReplyDeleteAll four Indiana Jones films are my all-time favorite films. I know I’ve said as much about Star Wars, yet both franchises -- cousins, really -- are altogether collectively No. 1 for me, speaking as both a cinephile and just a plain ol' cinema junkie. My point here, John, is that if you’re gonna start talking Indy, consider me wholeheartedly onboard, committed, guns blazing 'til the very end. Along the way I’m sure you and others will have some understandable, even reasonable, criticisms to share about the sequels, so be forewarned, as I will be there to rebuke them. In short, let me preface this shebang by stating that I consider all four installments, each in their own way, imperfectly perfect. And so it begins...
Raiders of the Lost Ark is the easy one because, let’s face it, everybody loves this movie (those of you who don’t, die) and, yes, the very "stuff" of it is as you detailed. Really, though, any self-respecting fan of the film(s) should, by now, at least have some working knowledge of its roots, influences and intentions. That’s not to take anything away from your review; I wouldn’t be here dishing my thoughts in the first place if I didn’t think it an excellent write-up worth discussing. I also deem it worth mentioning that, for all my love and adoration of this film, I likewise have no delusions about it either. It can be a bit tricky when trying to explain what I mean by this. These are B-movies with A-movie budgets. B-movies elevated to an art form, but still "poverty row" on some basic, stylistic level. Raiders was never any kind of attempted masterpiece. It was shot fast and loose, under budget and ahead of schedule. It was Spielberg sidestepping the mega-scaled production and portentous cinematic heights of Jaws and Close Encounters (and the proven unrealistic ambition of 1941) by going back to his directorial marrow in episodic television.
The resulting film was narratively crude and dramatically simple, barely anything more than a series of action set pieces strung together in an abrupt fashion and clocking in at a breezy 115 minutes. Again, this was intentional. The subsequent entries followed suit. Sure, they moved pieces around, played with genre forms, upped certain dramatic antes while dropping others, but always maintained the same general sensibility. There is indeed a lot of technical craft that went into Raiders, albeit with the aforementioned low rent style, coupled with thematic wit. And yet the whole concept of making an Indiana Jones movie is a very unassuming one–a nonchalant enterprise that resembles the workmanlike approach to the action-adventure type of Hollywood’s golden age.
It’s important to first asses the film’s director. Here’s my opinion of Steven Spielberg: he’s a mechanism. He’s a technically adroit filmmaker of the highest order. He just might be the best cameraman-director, like, ever. He’s also subject to certain dramatic impulses and choices in storytelling that, quite frankly, have proven rather lame. Whenever Spielberg ventures into more personal, serious or ambitious territory the results can be iffy. Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan and Munich, all mostly exceptional; The Color Purple, Amistad and Lincoln, eh, not so much. Spielberg is typically at his best, at his purest, when, in a manner of speaking, he gets out of his own way and simply directs the movie, and/or when he’s directing a movie chiefly intended to entertain the widest audience.
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ReplyDeleteFor example, Duel and The Sugarland Express were directorial calling card endeavors stripped down to the bare essentials as exercises in vehicular narratives while Jaws was adapted from a mere airport novel into a popcorn masterpiece with Altman verisimilitude, Hitchcockian flare and an indistinctly perverse enthusiasm à la William Castle. Other films such as Jurassic Park, Minority Report, Catch Me If You Can, The Terminal and War of the Worlds reflect the director's more modest but mischievous intentions; by no means less concerned with box office success or wowing the crowds, but where Spielberg the 'voice', the 'man with a message', was largely neutral; where kept at a certain distance from whatever the material -- the less personal or prestigious the investment -- the mechanism that is Spielberg becomes unfettered. To the furthest end of this spectrum (either tied with or just slightly beyond the delightful Tintin) lies the Indiana Jones series. Lucas’ "big idea" stories coupled with whomever the hired-gun screenwriter laid the groundwork that allowed Spielberg, now working firmly in Hawks-Curtiz mode, to virtually disappear into his own craft. By that I refer to the classic, studio heyday film language revitalized through the director’s wunderkind (alternately, wonder-kid) sense of staging and fluid, in-camera editing, but without ever losing its signature “oldie” appeal. Virtuoso talent kept in check with journeyman discipline.
Raiders is perhaps the straightest and most innate film he’s ever made. Quite possibly, the best film he’s ever...directed. Kudos also go to Lucas and Kasdan; the talents of all three pooled, Raiders was the first time way back when that I learned how one can use action to tell a story. To better grasp this economy, consider the film’s opening sequence and how the Peruvian temple set piece itself can be visualized as a diagram and broken into two halves: Indy entering and Indy exiting. The first half methodically illustrates the pulp adventurer as traditionally molded from those who came before him. Note how he is slowly, heroically revealed throughout the opening credits frame by frame; his physical prowess displayed when disarming a would-be traitor using a whip; his macho indifference to giant spiders; his skills used to navigate booby-trapped passages. His confidence, bravery, determination, it’s all there. However, the great twist about the character is that he’s equally human and flawed, as illustrated by the second half of the set piece–specifically at the golden idol turning point, which all but literally reverses the sequence and thus mirrors Indy’s dignified stature with his more comical afflictions.
Simply put, Indy fucks up. The temple collapses around him, he runs for it, gets double-crossed, fumbles an attempted pit jump and barely escapes a giant pinball with witless frenzy more than anything else, only to then be caught with his pants down by Belloq. By the time we see him fleeing over a hill from a horde of Hovitos, the guy has lost all his impossible cool and is reduced to a mere bumbling grave-robber, only to then be mocked for his unbecoming fear of snakes. In the first 15 minutes Indiana Jones is defined, completely, without any need for lame monologues or tedious scripted character development, and is ready to engage the larger, main story with audiences fully attuned to his nature. It’s clean.
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ReplyDeleteEach installment of the series is the best of the series for its own differentiation from the others. Free from the variations that would follow, Raiders is the leanest and the meanest in terms of its hard-hitting narrative and, overall, most direct approach to the very idea of an Indiana Jones film. Both onscreen and behind the camera, there’s an uncanny 'boys-playing-in-the-dirt' roughness and recklessness to it. And, as you mention, it is here where Indy himself is the most morally questionable, which I agree lends a particular quality to his character that is never really matched in the sequels. But that’s fine; they do other things with him.
I’d like to add just a few thoughts to the Ark of the Covenant premise. Deriving from Old Testament scripture, it deals with ancient Hebrew/Egyptian folklore and depicts God’s power (the presence of the supernatural in general) in its most primal form as a cataclysmic wrath to be feared and respected above all else. Expressing this in terms of historical cinema, Spielberg in many ways fashioned Raiders as his very own sequel-spinoff to DeMille’s FX heavy, spectacle-driven The Ten Commandments. Both films feature photo-optically processed scenes of lightning storms over the deserts of Egypt and cel animated effects. Also, what I find interesting about the Ark is how appropriate a threat it represents in the hands of Hitler’s army as a blitzkrieg weapon of mass destruction.
I’m always amazed how thematically ripe Raiders is without any traces of pretention, profundity or self-importance, and how Spielberg expresses this cautionary tale with clever visuals. Take for example the shot during the opening sequence of Indy draining sand from his bag when gauging the right weight for the temple mantle device, and how that image is doubled during the film’s climax where sand from inside the Ark pours from Belloq’s hand. In both instances, misjudgment, even arrogance, brings proportionately grave misfortune.
I’ll leave it at that for now. I could spend all day talking about this movie.
Hi Cannon,
DeleteSo glad you wrote. I always enjoy reading your comments, and you and I absolutely agree on Raiders. It is economical and efficient, but also inspired film-making.
You don't have to worry about defending the films with me: I'm a fan of all four of the movies. I know this is heresy but I actually prefer Kingdom of the Crystal Skull to Last Crusade, and I'll explain why when I get there. I love all four films, but rank Raiders and Temple of Doom at the top, and Last Crusade at the bottom. Not that Last Crusade is bad, it's just my least favorite among four great films...
I'll be interested to read your thoughts about the other films as we go forward.
A really great and insightful review of one of my favorite films. This is really one of the best films of the 1980s, and one of those movies that had a major impact on film making going forward. It made the fallible hero something that audiences started to root for again. I think we can make a direct line from Indiana Jones getting the tar beat out of him in "Raiders" to characters like John McClane from "Die Hard" and even affecting James Bond especially "Octopussy" and the two Dalton films (Dalton gets really trashed in those movies). To me, this "darker" version of Indiana Jones is the character at his best and most interesting. As you mention above, he gets toned down as the series progresses, and it ended up taking a bit away from the character.
ReplyDeleteI also have to say that the film had a tremendous influence on me as a writer. I was fascinated with the way the story flowed, the way the thrills were maintained, and the balance of humor and action. This was such a fun film, it became something of a benchmark for my fiction. I always wanted to write something as fun as "Raiders of the Lost Ark". It is funny how much of my early attempts at storytelling really mirror elements of this film. Most of it wasn't even consciously done, but came out anyway. It wasn't until revisting my older stuff did I realize how much of an impact the film made on me.
One element that you didn't mention, but is a HUGE part of the film is John Williams amazing musical score. The Raiders March is iconic, instantly recognizable and a perfect fit for this tribute to pulp era entertainment. His theme for the Lost Ark is filled with power and mystery. HIs theme for Marion is really lovely. And then you have his action music, some of the best he wrote for that era - with the music during the truck sequence working so wonderfully. He takes the percussive beat of the Raiders March and uses it to drive the intensity of the scene, matching the impressive stunt work and camera work. It is an amazing score, one of the best of the 1980s.
Really looking forward to your upcoming reviews. We may not agree on all of the sequels, but I'm with you on "Raiders". It is one of a kind.
I love the Indiana Jones trilogy, cheers for this !!!
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