St Rocketcool Nation

Warning, the following contains Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull spoilers and naughty language.  You have been warned.

This morning I woke up and the day was nothing but possibilities.  I was happy, rearing to go and excited because yesterday I had made plans with a friend to go see a movie.  A movie which was the fourth in a series of movies that I absolutely loved.  This was a big deal because I had never seen any of these movies on the big screen before.  Raiders of the Lost Ark came out the year before I was born.  I was two when Temple of Doom was released and was still in a Ninja Turtles phase when Last Crusade bounded onto the screen.  I had to make love to these movies through a VHS player and a 27 inch screen and while pleasant, wasn’t ideal.  Now, finally, in 2008 I would see a new Indiana Jones movie, in a theater!  Not only that, but Spielberg was directing, Harrison Ford was starring and even Karen Allen was back.  Hot damn.

At 3:45pm PST the movie started.  At 3:55pm PST I began to get worried.  At 5:45pm PST when I left the theater I felt like something was terribly wrong.  I struggled with words.  I tried convey a sense of what I just went through, and that is when I realized…

On Tuesday, May 27th, 2008, I paid $8 for George Lucas to rape me.  

What the fuck happened in this movie?  Has Spiderman 3 been set as the bar for good filmmaking?  Instead of original characters and actions, we prop up caricatures and hide spaceships?  Also, I’ve never been less afraid of Russians in my life.  What a bunch of pussies!  I never imagined that during a movie I’d be thinking to myself, “You know what’d make this movie better?  Nazis.”  Why was I yearning for Nazis?  Fuck you, George.

Like I said before, I became uneasy very early on.  This was due to the fact that Indy survives an Atom Bomb explosion and there was an alien kept next to Ark of the Covenant.  All wasn’t lost though, because soon there after, Indy was back at the University teaching and their was talk of Conquistadors.  Conquistadors?  Fuck yeah, I’m back in.  Alright.  Mayan ruins and ruling a lost Amazonian city.  This is the Indy I remember.  I can totally overlook the opening and love the shit out of this mov-

What?

Aliens?  

Really?!?!?!?!

Oh Goddammit.  

Wait, there is an explanation, they aren’t aliens.  Good. 

What?  Fuck you, they’re from another dimension.

I just don’t get it.  There were like 10 drafts of the script and that is the best they could do?  Why?  Was it because they just gave up after a while or was it because of the “Story by George Lucas” that kept everything at the point of failure for the entire process.  If this was the gist of the story from the beginning, then I can’t blame the writer.  One can put a bow-tie on a turd, but at the end of the day, it is still a piece of shit.  

I do want to take a moment to say how much I still love Karen Allen, though.  She has such a great smile that throughout the film, I forgot about some of the retarded shit going on, and felt at ease.  Getting a Karen Allen smile is most definitely on par with wining a Pulitzer or seeing a rainbow in a new born puppies eye.  It is intoxicating.  She might be a little bit older from the last time I saw her, but hot damn, she is still amazing.

That aside, I must wonder if there is some kind of proposition, that Californians could compose and get on the ballet for the next election, that would ban George Lucas from having anything to do with the furtherance of the franchises he has created.  Could someone in George’s inner circle just punch him in the throat the next time he has an idea?  It would be doing us all a favor.  He obviously blew his load with Star Wars and all that we have left to look forward to is… nothing.  We have nothing to look forward to from this man.  He might as well change his name to Uwe Boll or Sam Raimi.  

Also, you might have noticed that I have largely spared Steven Spielberg from much of my criticism.  That is mainly because he has made some of my favorite movies and this is my first major disappointment from him.  I’m sure he was subjected to Lucas’ crazy ideas and once a shit snowball gets rolling, it is hard to slow it down.  Spielberg made Munich, nuff said.

Lastly, who the fuck thought it would be funny to keep repeating the Shia “comb” shtick till I wanted to kill everyone in the theater?  We get it, he’s a Greaser.  Don’t beat me over the fucking head with it.  Didn’t they realize that in the time spent on the comb bit, they could have had them go over 18 more water falls that would probably have killed every last one of them?  

In conclusion – Go fuck yourself, George Lucas.  Next time, give me the movie that you sold me in the trailer, throw in some Nazi’s, and call it a day.  Shit, I would’ve better accepted the return of Short Round then aliens other dimensional  beings and spaceships.  You know when people stopped watching The X-Files?  When they made it all about aliens.  Oh and George/Steven, if you are going to have a movie about Aliens and have John Hurt in it, you better have the alien pop out of John Hurt at some point.  I’m just sayin’.  Thank you and try the halibut.  

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 28th, 2008 at 8:54 am and is filed under Essays, Writing.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.