“…only the gods can never age, the gods can never die.
All else in the world almighty time obliterates, crushes all to nothing…”
– Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus
It may be a bit long, as well as long in the tooth. It may deliver the thrills you got watching Raiders of the Lost Ark for the first time. It may occasionally be clunky. But Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny wants to be a wild ride like its predecessors while addressing the elephant in all our rooms: time. Quite literally, that’s the macguffin.
The Antikythera, a real artifact whose real purpose has not been fully cracked, could stand for lost knowledge. In James Mangold’s film, it has the additional benefit of being able to detect fissures in time. It’s definitely in better shape than Indiana Jones himself. Though much has been made of the at times impressive de-aging of star Harrison Ford in a 1945 prologue, the film really only takes off when it reveals the 80-year-old actor as he is. Stripped down, asleep in an easy chair in a small apartment, time has passed Indiana Jones by. The Beatles’ “Magical Mystery Tour” jolts him awake, forcing him to be the cranky old neighbor upstairs.
You might not want to see your hero that way, but Mangold has no other choice. This is the hero in repose, unrevealed (at first) life choices leaving him alone and about to be irrelevant. He’s only been in his current teaching position for 10 years, for students who have no idea what he’s done. If you compare the first classroom scene we ever saw with him in Raiders of the Lost Ark, it’s stark. Where young women once flirted, the depleted man can now barely compete with chewing gum. Where’s Short Round to yell, “YOU CALL HIM DR. JONES”?
This is not escapism. This is tragedy. And if we must revisit our heroes at the ends of their lives, it’s time to embrace the cathartic possibility of a life well-lived still sinking into twilight. Mangold tries to have it both ways, because after all this is Indiana Jones. If it’s action you seek, there’s plenty. Jones’ goddaughter/plot device Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) takes on some of it, but there’s a lithe stuntman or two wearing Ford’s face to still thrill. Sallah (John Rhys-Davies) admits he misses the old days, but has settled into a life in America with young grandchildren and a guarantee that both he and Indy will be remembered at least by them.
But it’s a film literally about trying to redo the past — through the scheming of Dr. Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), a Nazi scientist who the US government happily covered up so he could put Americans on the Moon. Standing in for Werner Von Braun, of course — don’t get comfortable and think this part didn’t actually happen. As a society, we’re still awkwardly reckoning with that truth. While Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny doesn’t dig too much deeper than “Nazis bad,” it does feature one impressively uncomfortable scene with Voller confronting a black hotel steward, dying to let loose his contempt for one of the people he considers lesser.
Our hero would like to redo the past, too. We’ve missed some tragedy in his life, a contrast to Sallah. But Ford also plays that Indy knows full well that regrets still can’t be undone. While it might be nice to imagine the Antikythera could change things, true to his character he knows “it belongs in a museum.”
We’re in an age of revisiting franchises without rebooting them, and culturally it’s still difficult to face mortality. Season 1 of Picard managed to have it both ways by transferring Jean-Luc’s mind into an android body that would be healthy but still continue aging. Ghostbusters: Afterlife sort of zombified Harold Ramis, but at least both acknowledged his death and passed the torch down. Ford played this game once before with The Force Awakens, but let’s hope we don’t see him play John Book in Witness 2. We’re still too early in Secret Invasion to tell what Nick Fury’s fate will be, but we can’t pretend that Samuel L. Jackson hasn’t lost a little pep in his step.
While it drags a little, at least Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny emphasizes that a last hurrah is still the last. In the movies, we’ll still get a (relatively) happy ending. For too long, we’ve lost the understanding that only the gods can never die — and Indiana Jones would have been the first to tell you he’s just a man. A man with more aches and pains than not, and a sunset that’s uncomfortably close. We don’t deal with the story structure of tragedy well, confusing it with being tragic. It’s not. Celebrate those heroes who know when it’s time to hang up their hat and leave the adventuring to the next generation.
