There’s a conflicting feeling with Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023), a film that attempts to give a heartwarming sendoff while contextualizing the titular character in an era that finds archaeology to be antiquated compared to the excitement of space exploration in 1969. The conflict comes at the heart of James Mangold‘s earnest effort to recapture the spirited nature of Spielberg‘s trilogy, one that was born out of love 1930’s genre serial films he and George Lucas grew up on. It’s clear after watching that no matter how much flourish and money can be thrown, Mangold simply is not at the level of Spielberg’s technical prowess when making pop entertainment. Even Spielberg himself couldn’t recapture his own magic, as his Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008) tried this formula to jarring results. 

Mangold is a talented director in his own right, and on paper, it would make sense to bring him on board to give a popular character the cinematic conclusion they deserve, as he’s demonstrated this by making one of the best comic book films in Logan (2017). Even in something as dark as Cop Land (1998), Mangold managed to instill a delicate stoicism and vulnerability in a Hollywood actioner like Sylvester Stallone, adding dimensionality to Stallone’s cultural persona. Yet, his sincere direction and the talented group of actors and technicians couldn’t make this final entry succeed, as they are no match for the cynicism and false bravado Disney has seeped into our movie-going culture. They view Indiana Jones much like an artifact and have opted to re-introduce him to a new generation of moviegoers in hopes of reviving a brand that feels out of place in the modern era where being an adventurer seems antiquated.

Mangold tries to lull the audience in a sense of comfort and safety, as the extended 20-minute opening chase sequence finds a de-aged Harrison Ford in 1944, lunging from cars to motorcycles, hopping on a train, punching Nazis, ducking tunnels while engaged in hand-to-hand fighting. Indy is on a quest to save his captured colleague, Basil Shaw (Tobey Jones), where he meets an astrophysicist, Jurgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), a Nazi who’s obsessed with Archimedes’s Dial and hopes to find the second half of the dial to unlock its untapped power. On the surface, it plays like a traditional Indy adventure, yet it has the sheen and look of a video game where the screen lacks any grit or roughness, something sorely missing in digital filmmaking. The glossy nature of this grand train set piece only emphasizes how the de-aging technology doesn’t quite revive the dynamism and vigor we feel from Ford’s past performances. The snarky remarks and charming facial expressions don’t land as they should; Ford is much more muted in his dialogue and reactions that fail to match the lively nature present in the original trilogy. It’s jarring, and from thereon, it becomes more glaring how all the special effects and all of Disney’s hundreds of millions of dollars that imagine Indy in some of the most perilous and spectacular action scenes will never measure to the some of the most well-crafted action sequences of the original trilogy.

Cut to 1969. Dr. Jones finds himself out of place with the rest of the world. He is divorced from Marian Ravenwood (Karen Allen), an alcoholic; his archeology class has lost the luster and excitement where students were engaged, and girls were enamored by his intellect and teachings. Now his classrooms are half-full, asleep, disinterested, and Indy’s passions feels antiquated in context of a new generation looking upward to space than what’s undiscovered on earth. However, he encounters Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), his goddaughter, and daughter of Basil. She’s an archeology student that is on course to finding Archimedes Dial to sell on the black-market auction. She’s pursued by Voller—who’s been working with the NASA space program—and his sociopathic lackey, Klaber (Boyd Holbrook), as Voller intends to use the Dial to “correct history.” Indiana and Helena find themselves clashing amongst themselves with different intentions. Helena has debts to pay that far exceed the historical relevance of an ancient artifact, but finds herself teaming with Dr. Jones due to his persistence and inste desire that has motivated him all his life. Their clashing personalities encompass the bulk of the film, as they try to beat the Nazies once more.

Much like how Indy finds himself estranged in an era where men can walk the moon in Dial of Destiny, we as audiences find ourselves estranged in an era of studios excavating previous I.P. in hopes of generating easy cash flow to fund even more lackluster, uninspired films aimed at gnawing peoples’ nostalgia. It’s been our love for characters like Dr. Jones through decades of rewatches that have made them as valuable as the artifacts Indy believes belong in a museum. Yet, her goddaughter is less interested in preservation and more engaged in self-satisfaction and compensation, where in one scene, she bids one-half of the dial to the highest bidder, unconcerned with its historical importance, much to Indy’s irritation. “You stole it,” bemoans Dr. Jones. “Then you stole it,” Voller responds. “And then, I stole it,” Helena emphasizes. “It’s called capitalism.” The real capitalism is Disney spending vast sums of fortunes at remaking classic animated films, stretching the elasticity of the Star Wars franchise, and now propping up a character whose real conclusion happened 30 years ago on the magnificent last frame of The Last Crusade (1989). Indy, Indy’s father, Sallah, and Marcus rode off into the sunset, solidifying the trilogy of being one of the best film series in cinematic history. Yet, destiny had other plans.

Part of Dial of Destiny’s problem is the film feels stitched together of different parts that, on paper, make for a traditional Indiana Jones film, but in execution, feel a more expensive pale imitation that doesn’t inject new or interesting pathos to the character. The dilemma Dr. Jones feels about being out-of-place in an era of the space era is an interesting concept and one that I’d hoped would be explored but is immediately dropped off after the first act. There’s a safeness in both Mangold’s direction and the screenwriting (this film has 5 credited writers, which lends the notion of this being having a less coherent voice) that contrasts the new dynamism of Dr. Jones being an older character that is capable of more emotional openness Mangold is great at. Yet, it’s evident that Mangold wanted to avoid straying too far from our preconceptions of who Indiana Jones is, but Dr. Jones is a character that has grown into the cinematic persona that has persevered throughout multiple generations. Harrison Ford’s performance is undeniably committed; the way he manages to instill the emotional depth of someone who’s experienced more excitement and death than most people can imagine adds a layer of mortality that Dr. Jones is forced to confront. Ford is fantastic, and however else one can feel about the movie, there’s no doubt Ford has so much love and respect for this character. 

The action scenes themselves are sadly unremarkable, in which it’s obvious at the age of 80 Ford can’t be the same agile and quick action hero, and much of the major stunts and hand-to-hand fight sequences are shot so closely whilst intercut with quick closeup edits where it’s difficult to tell what’s happening. And a lot of the major set pieces are far too long, which leads to mental exhaustion, but the poorly-rendered CGI breaks any kind of suspense or high-octane adrenaline that made previous Indiana Jones action sequences memorable. There was a genuine realism and tangibleness that is sadly lacking not just in this iteration of the character but in a lot of major blockbusters. One such sequence is when Dr. Jones is being chased through a city parade celebrating the Apollo 11 landing, and there’s a moment of excitement watching Ford ride a horse through a crowd of extras, cars, and a cityscape that is embracing the new era of possibilities while being chased by Nazi henchmen—stark reminders of the world’s past—and without feeling contrived, it feels like it exists alongside a classic Indiana Jones adventure. Yet the scene is undercut by a CGI train that chases Ford in the subway that breaks our suspension of disbelief. That is frequently repeated throughout the film, and it makes the experience tedious and frustratingly bloated. 

Waller-Bridge is a great addition to the series as someone who’s equally passionate and intelligent for history and equipped with the same problem-solving skills Dr. Jones is capable of, and her intentions add a fun twist to the classic ethos of Dr. Jones: “This belongs in a museum.” For her, the artifact is a means to an end that channels her sense of self-preservation, and teaming her with Ford’s sense of importance and selflessness makes some of their scenes more fun and engaging enough outside of the action scenes. Sadly, the rest of the cast seems perfunctory. Mikkelsen’s Voller is supremely ineffectual. A moody Nazi that’s binary without any compelling characteristics renders the performance to be mechanical. Holbrook’s Kentucky sociopath droll is amusing only due to how muted Mikkelsen is, and while the role is reduced to being a secondhand lackey, it’s partially fun to watch Holbrook mug the screen. Newcomer Ethann Isidore plays Helena’s kid sidekick, Teddy, that is a sad imitation of Short Round that lacks the charming personality and non-annoyance Ke Huy Quan imbued to that role. And John Rhys-Davies gets to show up for a brief scene to cue fan applause and remind the audience how much he loves his good pal, Indiana Jones.

It’s saddening that a film that has all the best actors, a talented director, and endless amounts of funds could produce a film that is ugly to watch, rote in its construction, ripe with an overwritten script, plagued with action scenes that are shoddily-shot with none of the visual flair presents in the original trilogy, and a story that treats Indiana Jones as a passenger than the driving force of the narrative. Walking out, it’s clear Ford is deeply passionate about this character; the last scenes indicate a level of closeness to the world-renowned maverick that makes his final moments endearing. Not due to the script, as story-wise, they feel unearned, but because Harrison Ford is leaving behind a legacy that has affected millions of moviegoers around the world, and I couldn’t help but feel he deserved a better movie. A movie that’s not solely dwelling on audiences’ nostalgia to where it keeps the character stuck in a moment of time rather than evolving with it. The trilogy will always evolve with audiences—40 years later, Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) continues to captivate and attract audiences, and Ford will continue to grow in popular culture. Sadly, Dial of Destiny seems like it will be relegated to the era of contrived legacy sequels that will sadly be buried by time. 

Review courtesy of Amritpal Rai

Feature Image Credit to Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures and Lucasfilm Ltd.