Oh, where do I begin? Where do I begin? Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull is a movie I’ve been waiting for over the course of most of my young life. Throughout the years, I’ve watched the movies literally hundreds of times. Nothing before or since has ever captured my imagination the way these had. During my childhood, I’d go out in the woods and pretend I was Indy, running from imaginary boulders, swinging on the rope tied to a tree branch in my backyard across make-believe snake pits, always saving the damsel in distress. Through my teenage years, I’d dress up as Indy for Halloween and often use his sarcastic one-liners in every day conversation. When it came time to go to college, the movies were much of the inspiration behind my choice to study history. Even as recent as last summer, when I heard there was an extras casting call for the Crystal Skull, I couldn’t resist going, despite the five-hundred mile drive. Needless to say, this must been kept in mind when reading this review. These movies are a huge part of who I am, as weird as that may sound.
So, it’s true that I had some high expectations for this. Maybe blindly high, but I felt I had little reason not to trust Spielberg and Ford. Even in the week before it’s release when my brother - another die-hard Indiana fan - revealed to me that he was a little worried with the latest TV spots, I stood firm, convinced there was no way that I couldn’t love this. Granted, I expected nothing on the level of the other three movies, but I expected something enjoyable and fun to finish off the series with a bang. Yet, once the credits began to roll, “enjoyable” and “fun” weren’t the first words to come to mind - and it kinda hurt. This is probably the most scattered, difficult review I’ve written, but bear with me.
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