Wanted: No More Indiana Jones Movies

I actually went and saw movies in the theater this last weekend so both these reviews are slightly more current than normal.  Of course by internet standards, they may as well have come out 30 years ago.  In any case, I went and saw a double feature of Wanted and Indiana Jones And The Blah Blah Blah, so if you haven’t seen these movies yet and have any desire to see them and judge them on their own merit, feel free to stop reading now.

I’ll start by saying I enjoyed it.  That said, the movie is so loosely based on the comic book, it hardly qualifies as an adaptation.  The film makers took the names of the comic and the lead character – and maybe one or two others – and left everything else behind.  Which is fine because, save for the last two pages, the comic was ultimately forgettable.  I really don’t have a whole lot to say about this movie.  It’s pretty, but these days if you make an action movie that isn’t then you’ve pretty much failed at your job.  There are a couple scenes that are so fucking cool you can’t believe what you’re watching, and the rest of it is just run-of-the-mill, post-Matrix, Hollywood action flick.  The one serious complaint I have with this movie is the (so very) tired “I don’t like working as a drone in an office and my middle class existence is wholly unsatisfying” character motivation. Fight Club was the last time that shit wasn’t annoying.  And every film (that I’ve ever seen) that chooses to discuss how unsatisfying and horrible life in the middle class is absolutely fails to offer a realistic example of something better.  Tyler Durden, chooses to address his dissatisfaction by punching himself in the face and blowing up financial institutions.  Bad idea.  Lester Burnham chooses to address his dissatisfaction by quitting the job that allows him to support his wife and daughter, going to work for Burger King, and smoking a whole bunch of pot.  Bad idea.  And in Wanted, Wesley Gibson chooses to address his dissatisfaction by joining a 1000-year-old secret league of assassins.  Because he’s unhappy with his office job.  And the movie goes to great lengths to point out what a pussy Wesley is, but they get it all wrong when it comes to the reason why.  He’s not a pussy because he’s afraid to stand up to his boss, or because he knows his girlfriend is fucking his best friend and he refuses to do anything about it.  He’s a pussy because he’s a disillusioned little bitch who can’t hack working in an office.  I’m supposed to identify with this little millennial queef?  Fuck that.  Hey guess what?  Life is filled with repetition and boredom and if you’re old enough to drink and you’re still whining about that, then pull a Cobain and put the rest of us out of your misery.  And, hey, I get it.  Really, I get it, I’ve been working in offices for close to a decade now and they pretty much suck.  But so does pumping gas and despite what anyone thinks, there’s nothing noble about being poor.  And here’s one final thought:  There’s no such thing as a boring job, a boring place, or a boring life.  There are only boring people.  So if you’re bored, it’s your fault and it’s up to you to fix it.  Don’t quit your job, don’t blow up the corporate headquarters of financial institutions, and don’t join a league of assassins.  Just stop being such a fucking pussy, quit your whining, and figure out what makes you happy.  And then blow up the corporate headquarters of financial institutions.

Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of “Oh Fuck It”

  1. George Lucas needs to be cock-punched.
  2. I need to be cock-punched for going to a George Lucas film.
  3. Like this needed to be proven but, yes, it’s possible to be too rich and too successful and completely lose touch with something you used to be good at.  So sad.
  4. There’s a scene where Indy is kinda sorta being interrogated in a tent.  They’re somewhere on the Amazon at this point and there is mosquito netting between Harrison Ford and the camera and the lighting is such that his shadow is being cast on the mosquito netting and because it is see-through, you can see Harrison Ford’s head within the shadow of his head.  And I have to assume that everyone involved thought this was a really cool shot and technically, it is.  The problem is that the shot winds up as nothing more than a symbol of Harrison Ford’s (and Lucas’ and Spielberg’s) inability to pull this character off a fourth time, with the man being literally overshadowed by the legend.

Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

Posted in The Not-Very-Timely Movie Review Tagged with: ,