In an era where directors appear to be ever increasingly split into the binary of either ‘indie auteur’ or ‘studio hack’, James Mangold, with his work on films like Logan and Ford V Ferrari, has proven himself to be one of the last truly dependable Hollywood journeymen. It’s a skillset that has mostly served him well, but unfortunately one that isn’t enough to elevate Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, the fifth (and final?) entry into the series, and the first without Spielberg at the helm, that really pales in comparison to the legendary work done in the original trilogy.
After a prologue featuring a de-aged Harrison Ford as Indy fighting his way through a Nazi treasure train at the tail end of World War 2, Dial of Destiny jumps to 1969. Indy’s an old man now, about to retire as an archaeology professor, made irrelevant both by his age and the new world of the Space Age, where everyone is far more interested in looking to the future than delving into the ancient past. Of course, though, the old warhorse is called back for one last adventure – this time to discover and rebuild the broken ‘Dial of Archimedes’, an ancient device that might hold the key to time travel, which is being chased by some very nefarious forces.
The script, by Jez and John-Henry Butterworth, is solid enough (though the quips could use some work) and there are some genuinely good and fun ideas thrown in here, from action set-pieces that involve a horse in a subway to a frank discussion of America’s rehabilitation of Nazi scientists to aid their space program to an enjoyably batshit ending. It’s just that there’s no real spark bringing these ideas to life, even though Ford is clearly enjoying himself much more here than he was in the Star Wars sequels.
Mangold is, inevitably, no Spielberg, and while it might be unfair to expect that level of technical mastery to survive the lack of the old master, Dial of Destiny’s action also doesn’t really show Mangold at his best. So many of the set-pieces here are dark and sludgy and weightless, a shadow of not just, say, Raiders’s truck chase or Temple of Doom’s mine carts, but Mangold’s own thrilling work on the races in Ford V Ferrari. The effects are also – yet again in a megabucks 2023 blockbuster – hit and miss, sometimes convincing but sometimes looking like YouTube-level CG.
The cast are a similarly mixed bag. It’s always an undeniable joy to see Ford put on the old hat and bullwhip, and Mads Mikkelsen and Toby Jones are good value as big bad Nazi-turned-NASA-scientist Jurgen Voller and Indy’s bumbling old British friend Basil, respectively, but Phoebe Waller-Bridge grates as Indy’s cheerfully cynical god-daughter Helena. The film isn’t quite sure whether she’s there to be Fleabag or to pick up the franchise torch and the result is someone you’re kept at arms’ length from, whilst a lot of the action scenes receive constant interruptions to let her throw a gag in. In the ‘80s originals, these laughs and thrills were one and the same, seamless set-pieces barrelling between funny and frightening but here they make for a choppy pairing.
Dial of Destiny probably won’t irritate Indiana Jones fans quite like Kingdom of the Crystal Skull did (the silliest stuff here feels more earned than all the alien mumbo-jumbo in that one, still grounded in the fantastical alt-history that makes the series such pulpy fun), but it’s hard to say it’s actually much *better*. For everything that that entry got wrong, it had moments of Spielberg magic; an iconic shot here, a perfectly smooth character action beat there. Dial of Destiny has no such highs or even memorable lows (hello Shia LaBeouf swinging with monkeys), just moving at an inoffensive ebb that ultimately feels like an unsatisfying goodbye to one of cinema’s all-time great heroes.
Jack Blackwell – Film Reviews 