Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
I weep at the thought of Indiana Jones 4, forever trapped in pre-production, for Spielberg and Lucas wrapped the trilogy up so well fifteen years ago. Has it really been that long? I remember so well going to the theatre to watch Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, with Indy (Harrison Ford) and his father (Sean Connery) galavanting around Europe trying to avoid Nazis yet somehow running smack dab into the Fuhrer himself. Like the previous two Indiana Jones films, it's a barrel of fun, adventure and wildly quotable lines ("No ticket!") and a hell of a story to boot. Here, Indy is chasing after his long-lost father's dream: the Holy Grail, which Jesus supposedly drank out of at the Last Supper. The chalice will grant anyone who drinks from it eternal life, so naturally Hitler wants his hands on it. Indy agrees to find it, running into German troops, friends who betray him, and finally his father, who's the most annoying of all. Ford and Connery have amazing chemistry as we watch the two motor, aviate and gallop their way towards supposed immortality, and as amazing as the final sequence of Raiders of the Lost Ark was, Last Crusade has it beat, as Indy must follow three trials genius in both design and presentation by Spielberg. The use of the cup at the end is not disappointing as well, and the final shot of the Joneses literally riding into the sunset is one of cinema's best. Of the entire Indy Jones saga, this is the height, and the thought of the series not ending here disappoints me to no end.
Signs 2002
During this, the summer of "Let's Bash M. Night Shyamalan Since His Last Film Sucked Hardcore," it's nice to take a trip back to August of 2002 when the Philly native was on top of the world, and for good reason. Signs, his follow up to the Best Picture-nominated The Sixth Sense and the much-ignored Unbreakable, was the most talked about film of the summer in a good way, as the Mel Gibson vehicle mixed suspense and horror like no film had done in recent memory. Mysterious crop circles are popping up all over the globe, including in the fields of Gibson's rural Pennsylvania farm; an eerie feeling is settling over the population, especially when it appears transparent ships are settling in over Mexico City. In an age of films like Independence Day, it's rare to see alien invasions staged so realistically, with reactions other than, "I shoulda been at a barbeque!" but Shyamalan's masterpiece is not just an us-versus-them alien yarn. As Gibson recalls the last words of his recently late wife, inspiration strikes, and the former priest who left the cloth, cursing God all the while, has his faith restored. Atheists screamed bloody murder, but Shymalan utilizes Christianity here no different than any other filmmaker would use mythology; the existence of God is stipulated here only to the extent that George Lucas demands we recognize the Force in the Star Wars saga. And that ending…well, some would have you believe that Earth's weapon against the aliens makes no sense, since, well, it's everywhere, so why would the aliens come here? I reference you to The War of the Worlds. Signs is thrilling, humorous and insightful, and was robbed of a Best Picture nomination.
Clerks 1994
So this is what you can do with $20,000. Ten years have passed since Kevin Smith's independent darling arrived on the scene, and in an era of digital camcorders, Final Cut Pro and DVD burning, the film stands up quite well. Better, in fact, than any of Smith's other View Askew films, all of which (especially Chasing Amy) show wear and tear over time. Clerks is a rather simple tale of a day at a Stop ‘n Rob, as Dante (Brian O'Halloran) and Randall (Jeff Anderson) kill time while obsessing over ex-girlfriends and berating the exhaustingly annoying customers. There's no significant plot to speak of, though Smith's original ending added a weight to the film that underscored the futility of Dante's existence (while also making the film way too much of a downer, resulting in the necessary cut.) Instead, it's spending the afternoon watching a series of skits performed for our amusement by a couple of early-nineties slackers and the poor, slovenly residents of northern New Jersey, not to mention the two infamous stoners that make their debut outside the Quick Stop. Smith doesn't necessarily break new ground, and the direction is choppy at best (though the black and white, a product of necessity rather than choice, awards the film a removed, other-worldly quality.) Still, his writing is interesting and quite funny at times, and the flick can almost be seen as the beginning of a coming-of-age story about Dante. More interesting will be the sequel, Clerks 2, due to begin shooting in January, that reunites the cast, including Jay and Silent Bob, in glorious Miramax color. We'll see if they've done anything with the last decade of their lives.