Why The Character Arcs in "Raiders" Makes the First Film Superior to the Other Films in the Series

***WARNING: Mild spoilers of "Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull" ahead.

I have never understood what happened to the Indiana Jones movies after "Raiders". Like a lot of film makers, Spielberg and Lucas seemed to lose sight of what made their original creation so great and instead of building on what they'd done in the first film they completely undermined their creation with the successive films.

I know many people will disagree with me on this but I'll try and write up all my thoughts anyway and hopefully it'll make for a good read if nothing else (and probably a good debate in the comments section).

One of the things I like best about "Raiders" is the journey that Indy's character takes. Part of what makes the movie work so well for me is that he seems to undergo a fairly significant personal transformation during the telling of the story.

After he talks to the government agents about what the Ark is, and why Hitler might want it, Brody comes by his house to tell him he's free to go and try to retrieve the Ark. Brody has a great scene where he hints that maybe the Ark has powers that mere men aren't meant to tamper with, but Indy completely rejects this and tells Brody that he doesn't believe in such nonsense. So this is a clear statement that Indy doesn't believe in the power of the Ark and to him, it's just an object to be pursued.

By the end of the movie, his experiences have changed him so much that he believes in the power of the Ark. He tells Marion to "close her eyes" because he has come to understand something deeper than what he understood at the beginning of the movie: he now knows that there are things in life which hold a greater power than just their material or archaeological value.

But you can see the problem this can cause within the movie's structure: he doesn't believe at the outset that there is any power to the Ark. Therefore, he can't begin his journey with the motivation of "keeping the Ark's power out of the hands of the Nazis", because he simple doesn't believe there's any power to be had from it.

So the film begins with a sequence that, among other things, shows his determination to get that golden idol from the temple at any cost. It shows his fierce competition with Belloq to get whatever archaeological find he can grab at any cost, without ever considering that it might have any powers that can't be seen. To him, finding treasures is only about what they are worth in material terms.

After all, we saw in the opening of the movie that he doesn't care at all that the Hovitos tribe doesn't want anyone in their area. We see that they are still around - not some long-extinct tribe - and they are protecting their territory, and that they don't welcome outsiders. Somebody built some elaborate traps to keep people out of the temple and to protect the idol, and yet there is no hesitation on Indy's part, or any thought that maybe stealing the idol is a bad idea. There's no morality problem to him that the idol might mean something to these people and removing it might be detrimental to them or harmful to their way of life. To him, it has no "value" other than what it will fetch on an open market or add to his reputation after he collects it.

And we see in his willingness to risk life and limb to get the idol and through his interaction with Belloq how driven he is to posses the idol, how competitive he is to grab the greatest archaeological finds he can before anyone else does.

Which is all a great setup, because it provides a motivation for him to go after the Ark - his competitive nature and his burning desire to find the greatest historical treasures the world has to offer. Because it wouldn't work if he was going to keep the awesome "power" of the Ark out of the hands of the Nazis - because he doesn't believe in that kind of power, period.

Once again, you can see how meticulously plotted this movie is and how many things are setup within the story without the audience realizing that it's being fed exposition. The opening sequence feels like it's just an exciting piece to hook you into watching the movie. But it's not just that - it sets up a lot of things in a very effortless way, so we don't realize we're being shown things that will be important later.

So that's one of his "arcs", or journeys that he takes through the story: he comes to learn that there is a power to these things he collects, that they are not just objects, but that these things deserve our respect and reverence and that they have a power greater than we can imagine.

The other arc is also a very interesting one, and I really love the subtle way it's laid into the movie. When Indy is first introduced, he's seen (famously) in shadow and then walks into the light, revealing his face. It plays well, and I think it's well-known because it's such an interesting and weighty introduction and gives him a great mystique.

The first time you see his head, from behind - reacting to the sound of the porter pulling a gun on him.



The first time we see his face - as he steps out of the shadows.





But if you look at it within the context of the rest of the movie you can see that it's much, much more than that. The idea of "shadows" and light are very important within the film.

When he appears in The Raven (Marion's bar) he is re-introduced by his shadow, which appears behind her. Again, he is equated with shadows.



And interestingly, after he leaves, the Nazi contingent arrives and there is a very similar scene to Indy's, where their shadows are thrown onto the wall in the same way as his was. This can only be seen as a connection between the Nazis and Indy. The implication is that he is hardly better than they are - he is as morally ambiguous at this point as they are.





The real key to this idea is said very plainly by Belloq after Marion's apparent death in the marketplace. Belloq has a whole speech to Indy where he says (basically) "we are no different, you and I, we are just a shadowy reflection of each other". Significantly, this is the only thing Belloq says which seems to get under Indy's skin and prompts Indy to reply "now you're getting nasty", which tells you that deep down he probably thinks that this is true.

When Belloq is first introduced, outside the temple where Indy has taken the idol, the reason Belloq is able to take the idol away from Indy is because Belloq has learned to speak the native tongue and influence the natives into helping him - arguably a more noble approach than just walking into the temple and ripping it off. I think that's a great idea that Belloq took the approach to learn the native tongue and insinuate himself with the tribe to accomplish his goal whereas Indy just took the most obvious, blunt approach. It says a lot about their different personalities, and also, you can't necessarily say one approach is more "moral" than the other.

I take all of the moments that equate Indy with shadows and compare him to Belloq and the Nazis to mean that he is morally ambiguous, that he is not committed to fighting on the "right" side as he is to accomplishing his goals in any way possible. From the outset of the film, his character seems to be teetering on a precipice and could go either way. Will he decide to live a life of righteousness, of fighting for what's right, or will he become merely a soldier of fortune, doing whatever it takes to get whatever he wants in life?

Now, as a counterpoint to the "shadow" idea of Indy, Marion seems to be constantly equated with light. There are a lot of scenes that are staged in an unusual way and seem to be arranged to link her with light sources.






So the obvious conclusion is that she is the "light" that will illuminate his shadowy side and put him on the right path in life. Certainly it feels this way at the end of the film. There is a sense at the end that he is better off with Marion than he would be if he continued along the same path as before. And in his concern for the Ark and the fate of it within the government's possession that makes it seem like he has a newfound respect and concern that wasn't there at the beginning of the film.

I like both of these arcs very much and they're very unusual. Most character arcs in movies are very standard and tend to hit you over the head - not so with either of these ideas, and the movie is richer and deeper for them.

Unfortunately it is just these things that the subsequent movies failed to consider and they are much weaker for it. Not only that but the sequels seemed to deliberately undermine these ideas.

For example, "Temple of Doom" is a prequel to "Raiders" - it all took place before "Raiders" did, supposedly. And yet in "Temple" Indy witnesses a man pull another man's beating heart out of his chest and also he uses a magical incantation at the end of the movie to make the magic rocks burst into flames, thus defeating the villain. Now if all of this is supposed to happen before "Raiders", how are we supposed to believe that he went through these experiences - witnessing acts of unexplainable mystical power and even using the other-worldly power of the stones - and yet remain skeptical that there are mystical forces at work in our world?

Also, in "The Last Crusade", we see him as a Boy Scout at the beginning of the movie. He is played as completely moralistic: he is full of indignation when he discovers men digging around for the lost Cross of Coronado and he immediately sets out to steal it with the goal of getting it to a Museum. There is no hint at all of any kind of lack of morality. Right after this scene we see him as an adult, and his morality remains exactly the same - he is still pursuing the Cross of Coronado, still full of righteous umbrage and still saying the same thing: "that belongs in a museum".

Now I'm not suggesting that he should have been introduced as a rotten, larcenous Boy Scout with a complete lack of morals. But the film casts him as a completely moral and blandly simplistic version of what he was in the first movie, playing him like Superman, a completely honest and forthright person who's always in the right. That's inherently uninteresting and also untrue to what made the character so fascinating and compelling in the first place. The film makers forgot what was great about their creation and seem to think that as long as he has a hat and a whip he will be a great character. Great characters are made great and watchable by the choices they make that define who they are, not because of their costumes.

It's interesting that in a lot of interviews, Lucas, Spielberg and even Harrison Ford seem completely sold on the idea that the third and fourth movies made the right choice by introducing Indy's family members and making the films "emotional" through the family connections that are explored. I completely disagree.

First off, I disagree that family connections are the instant formula for "emotion". The family relationships in the third and fourth movie are played more for laughs than for anything - there's almost nothing there that could even be considered emotional or anything even remotely like a real actual human father-and-son relationship. And I don't really look to my "Indiana Jones" movies to be emotional, any more than I look to dessert to fulfill my nutritional needs or look to broccoli to satisfy my sweet tooth. It's a complete fallacy to think that all movies need to be "emotional" to mean something to an audience. Some of the greatest movies ever made were never meant to be "emotional" and they don't need to be.

The weirdest part of all this is that Lucas and Spielberg freely admit that they invented Indy to be their own version of James Bond - that's even why they cast his father as Sean Connery. So why didn't they stop to think about whether they, as fans of James Bond, ever found themselves wanting to find out about James Bond's family?

Does anyone want to see a movie that tells us what Bond was like as a kid? How he got his start on the road to being a spy in his adolescent years? Do you want to meet Bond's dad and see them hang out together, working through their issues? Do you want Bond's illegitimate son to show up at some point and see them work through their issues? Because I sure don't. And I don't want to see Jones do this either. So it's inexplicable to me that this was the way Lucas and Spielberg went; I don't find it interesting or satisfying and it doesn't even follow the model they were purportedly following in the first place. And every time he interacts with his Father or his son on a familial level he just seems to be complaining or chiding them...not much fun to watch, and not the cool, carefree Indy I met in the first film.

Strangely enough, I actually thought it kind of worked to have Indy hanging out with "Short Round" in the second film. There's something about a loner, a guy who outwardly seems tough and completely self-reliant hanging out with some orphaned kid he got hooked up with. It tells you a lot about the guy: he has a lot bigger soft spot than he lets on and when you see some one relate to a kid on a kid level it's fun. When a Father does that it seems kind of irresponsible but when it's an adult who isn't the kid's dad it becomes fun to watch and telling about that character. It allows the character to show a different side than he is able to in his relationships with other men and women (and it worked just as brilliantly in "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" as well as countless other films).

If nothing else, maybe the other three movies can't ever live up to the first one simply because you can't really top God in terms of spectacle. After witnessing the power of the Almighty, everything else seems a little bit like a letdown.

Three Mini-Indy Posts

In honor of the new Indiana Jones movie, here are three small posts concerning the airplane fight in "Raiders of the Lost Ark".

#1: The Plane Fight: Simplified Geography

If you take a look at how the "Flying Wing" airplane from the movie is laid out, it has a cockpit at the front of the plane (the part with the open canopy) and a turret at the rear of the plane with machine guns sticking out of it (sorry to sound so technical, but bear with me here). There appears to be a crawlspace connecting the two that's probably about twelve feet long.



Okay, so the pilot is standing in the cockpit during the fight, until he's knocked unconscious by Marion with the plane chocks (the things that hold the wheels in place until you're ready to takeoff). The part I want to talk about is a ways down, but I'll include every shot in this section, just for those who want to check out the staging and cutting.







So after she conks him on the head, he falls onto the plane controls and the plane starts to rotate in place.









She jumps into the cockpit to pull him off the controls, the cockpit closes shut, and then she sees a truck of German soldiers approaching so she abandons the effort to lift the unconscious pilot -













ducks out of frame-




there's a very brief wide shot of the whole tableau (very brief - like maybe 12 frames)



-and then she's in the rear turret, and begins to blast away at the German truck with a machine gun.






So here's the part that's interesting to me: there's no scene of her crawling through the tube that runs down the center line of the plane, traveling between the cockpit and the rear turret.

Now, later both she and Indy realize that there is gas flowing towards a fire nearby-




And he climbs on top of the plane to get her out. At first he tries to free her from the turret - that's the turret he's pulling on here, and the cockpit is on screen right. But the turret is stuck, it won't open, and the German mechanic interrupts Indy's efforts.




Indy is knocked to the ground and the fight continues there. Here you can see the empty cockpit behind them - she's still in the turret.



After the mechanic is finally dispatched, and the gas is reaching the fire, Indy reappears near the cockpit. If you look closely, you can tell that Marion is just finishing her crawl from the turret back to the cockpit.








Maybe everyone else is more observant than I am, but I actually had never noticed until recently that she even spends the sequence in two separate locations; in my defense I haven't watched the film that many times in my life, but I always thought that the cockpit was where the machine guns were located and I completely missed that she was moving between two different points during the sequence.

The reason I bring all of this up is to point out how much can be glossed over or under-explained in film. I know I said (two posts ago) that carefully presented geography is the key to making an action sequence work - and it is - but the unimportant parts of the geography can be left out in order to let the viewer focus on the parts that really are essential.

When board artists, writers and film makers are just starting out, they tend to over-explain everything and sometimes seem to feel that no single step in a process can ever be left out, lest the audience be confused or disoriented. This sequence is a good example of a piece of action that can easily be skipped and the audience doesn't miss it at all. I have to admit it, but I certainly would think, if I were boarding this sequence, that it would be necessary to include a cut away shot of her crawling through the middle section of the plane before she appears at the machine guns and begins firing away. But that's really just "shoe leather" (that's slang for unnecessary footage of characters moving from one spot to another) and doesn't have any entertainment value for the audience, so it's a smart choice to leave it out.

I wonder if Spielberg ever even shot coverage of that?

It's also worth pointing out how much more interesting the scene is because Marion is wearing a flimsy, feminine dress through all of the action - it's a great contrast to all of the "tough guy" stuff that she's doing all through this part and creates great visual interest. It's a great choice that might seems obvious at first glance, or like a throwaway idea, but it actually serves to lift the sequence up above what you've seen before or what you would expect to see.

#2 The Plane Fight: More Simplified Geography

Another good example of Simplified Geography, or maybe better known as "What you can leave out that you don't think you can". This is a really good example of something that has never bothered a viewer of a film, and yet, you would never ever get away with this if you were storyboarding in animation.

As the big mechanic notices Indy and gets into the fight...




Marion is crouched by the wheels of the plane, looking around, scanning for some way to help Indy out. her gaze falls on the chocks underneath the plane's wheels...





Cut back to the German mechanic convincing Indy to join him into a fight...





Then back to Marion, removing the chocks from beneath the wheels...



And then wide as Indy slides down and engages in battle with the mechanic.









Now this long shot with the mechanic is actually a shot that lasts a really long time. As you can see, it's long enough for Indy to try to trick him by pretending to see something, then he kicks the guy, then tries to punch him, misses, gets punched by the big guy and starts to fall on his rear end.

The interesting thing is that nowhere in the shot is Marion visible. We can clearly see all the wheels of the airplane in the shot, and we just saw her by the wheels, so she should be somewhere in the shot. And yet she's not, and the viewer isn't jarred or confused by that at all. The next time we see any indication of her is when the chocks hit the pilot in the back of the head (see part #1 above).

If that wide shot was a quicker shot, I could see a rationale for leaving Marion out, but in animation storyboarding, if you did that (in my experience) people would tell you that you can't do that. That you would need a shot in between Marion's medium shot single and the wide to cover the fact that she slips away out of the scope of the wide shot. And yet, this version here works fine - in fact, it seems like it would be distracting to have her in the wide shot, she would take away from the main action and add a layer of complexity that would take away from the humorous aspect of the wide shot, which works well as a humorous setup because it's staged so flat and wide.

#3 The Plane Fight: Introduction of the Big Guy
Okay, this one is really subtle and I don't know that I can even communicate what an impact this bit had (and continues to have) on me, but I'll try. I guess it kind of jumped out at me when I was first looking at movies and trying to figure out what makes them work, so it had a big impact on teaching me something and that's why I love this bit so much. But, in and of itself, it might not seem all that impressive.

Okay, while Indy is fighting with the mechanic who's holding the wrench, we cut away to a hut nearby and we are introduced to the big muscular mechanic who's going to pummel Indy for the next few minutes.

I like his introduction because it's really good at making him look huge in a subtle, unobtrusive way. It takes several innocuous elements and uses them all combined together to add up to the idea that this guy is big. And yet none of the elements stick out as unnatural or contrived.

First and foremost, it goes without saying that his whole intro is filmed in an upshot to make his look like he looms above the viewer.

When we first see him step out of the hut, he is stooped over to get through the doorway and fit under this awning. He sees Indy, takes a couple of steps forward and stands up straight once he clears the awning. The camera pans up to follow him as he straightens up.

The camera follows him around as he walks forward to end on a shot of him (huge) in the foreground looking off towards the fight in the distance, which, being so far away, makes both the figures and the airplane look rather small compared to the big guy.








Now, again, its not a spectacular bit of film making on its own, I know, but what struck me about it was how many ideas were combined to make him look big, and yet how subtle they all were, and none of them called undue attention to themselves; they all feel natural and flow together so well that nobody would really notice them unless they are looking for them.

So many times in story boarding, I feel like I have a tendency (as do a lot of people, I've noticed) to over-think and over-explain things, to the point that you're belaboring the point. It's a real gift to have a subtle touch and be able to put things over without the audience being aware of the tricks you're pulling on them, but it's vital, because once they realize you're pulling tricks on them, the tricks lose all of their effectiveness.

In particular, the subtle pan up with him as he straightens up really left an impression on me, and, frankly, I use that all the time. Whenever I'm trying to show that something is big, I tend to use all the tools I can, but I include a subtle pan up a lot of the time. Also, if a character is looking down a deep hole, for example, I'll have a little bit of a camera drift down, or a push in, to make the hole feel deeper. I'll always try to use the camera movement to emphasize what I'm trying to say, and it all comes from noticing what Spielberg did with this particular section.



One more interesting thing to talk about concerning the whole sequence of trying to get onto the airplane is that the whole sequence breaks a kind of cardinal rule in film making: the whole sequence doesn't really have any effect on the progression of the overall story.

It's a good rule of thumb that something should always be different by the end of each sequence; that is, as a result of the sequence our hero should be closer to or further away from his or her goal. If things are the same at the end of the sequence as at the beginning, then the sequence is static and doesn't progress the story and should probably be taken out of the movie.

At the end of the airplane sequence, I can't say that Indy and Marion are any closer to their goal (of obtaining the Ark) or further away from it. In the next beat they are back at square one and Indy now has to try and commandeer the truck that is going to be used to transport the Ark.

And yet somehow the sequence works; it doesn't feel static or like a waste of time.

One more thing - take a moment to admire the frames of film here and note how simple the shots are. A great action sequence doesn't have to be made up of overly dramatic angles that ooze with dynamic angles and poses. A great action sequence can be made from simple, clear shots that tell an entertaining and dramatic story through the arrangement and timing of shots. Also take a look at how great the compositions in all of these shots are. Simple shots that have elements arranged well to create great breakups of space always work really well.

Geography (and the Power of The Unseen Threat)

Geography is an important but rarely used device that is the key to making any action sequence work. No action sequence will have any real tension to it unless we know exactly where everything is at all times: where the hero is in relation to his objective, how close or far away he is from his goal, what obstacles are at play and where they are in relation to the hero in the scene.

Most film makers don't bother to figure this out, because it's difficult and time-consuming, and requires a lot of forethought, so usually action sequences are just a frenetic and confusing pyrotechnical fest that ends when the loud music stops. In a well-done sequence, we know what the hero is trying to do, and we always know how far along he is in his goal of obtaining his goal, and the sequence is over when we see him clearly get what he wanted or when he is definitively denied what he wanted.

When film makers try to add something to their action scenes that is fresh or new, they usually only aim for adding elements that we haven't seen before, like more interesting explosions or more violent weapons.

When a really masterful film maker creates a great action sequence, he or she usually treats the sequence like it's own little three act story within the larger story of the movie: with a clear beginning (act one), progressive complications that make the scene build (act two), and then a satisfying climax that wraps up all of the loose threads and brings the scene to a conclusive end (act three). Also, after a good action sequence, we know exactly how the scene has advanced the story and how the world of the story has been altered by the sequence: is the hero now clearer to his ultimate goal, or further away? In a poorly constructed movie, nothing is altered by the action sequence, and it was just there to add some noise and flash, to wake up the audience between the boring and/or confusing talky parts.

Nobody is better than Spielberg at geography. If you just look at any sequence from Raiders, you will see how well they are all plotted out, how you always know where everything is, what elements are in play and how close or far away Indy is from getting his goal.

Think about the sequence where Indy and Marion are trying to commandeer the Nazi plane. There are so many elements in the sequence that affect how it turns out, and they are all added very clearly and always one at a time (which is very important, but again, very rare) to build a nice progression and keep raising the tension at a constant rate, and always we are oriented to where we are, what the dangers are to our heroes and and where they are coming from.

The sequence has a good example of one of a really cool film trick that can only be pulled off if the audience has a clear understanding of where everything is located. I don't know what to call it other than the unseen threat.

As Indy first approaches the plane, we see clearly how everything is laid out (Indy's goal here is to subdue the pilot and commander the plane). The plane has two spinning propellers at the rear and Indy starts to climb up between the propellers to sneak up on the pilot but he's spotted and confronted by a mechanic with a wrench. As Indy climbs down off the plane and begins to fight this mechanic, the propellers are always visible. Indy and the mechanic are always seen fighting in the area that's between the two massive spinning propellers.

Indy is able to destroy the wrench that the guy is holding by forcing it into the propeller. This is a great setup of the destructiveness of the propeller (call this Act One of the propeller's story).






So after Indy is able to overcome the first mechanic guy, he is approached and confronted by a second guy (this is the big muscle-bound guy). The propeller is offscreen for just a moment as Indy as the guy have their verbal exchange, and then we see it again as they begin their fight (again, we see clearly that they are sparring on the ground in the area between the two propellers).

So now as the big guy punches Indy, Indy falls to the ground, and we cut closer, then out one more time as the pilot gets into the fray, pulling out a gun.










Okay, so here's where all the setup of the propeller will come to fruition: as we cut closer to see the guy pick up Indy, and then to a different close shot as Indy bites the guy, we are still very aware of the propeller that's offscreen to the left. So after Indy bites the guy, the guy hurls Indy away from him and to the left.

This is where all the payoff of the constantly spinning propellers comes to a great payoff: as the big guy throws Indy off to the left, your heart skips a beat because, as a viewer, you know that propeller is there, and you know how dangerous it is (we saw it chop up a big steel wrench already) and yet we can't see it in this shot. It's offscreen, spinning dangerously, we know, and yet we can't see it, which makes us very anxious on a subconscious level as Indy hurtles in that direction. So the combined knowledge we have that it's there and the fact that we know Indy's heading right toward it makes us jump because we can't tell if he's about to collide with the propeller and get chewed into bits.







As the pan continues, it is revealed that in fact he was behind the blades of the propeller and he's okay. This is the Act Two of the propeller story, and again, a great setup that heightens the tension of the spinning propeller, builds the threat of it and adds to the emotion we feel when the big guy is eventually taken out by the propeller himself (this is Act Three and the end of the propeller story).


I know many of you will think I'm over-analyzing this sequence and think that this is an accidental occurrence that isn't intended to accomplish what I'm saying it does. All I can tell you is that a good film maker never leaves things up to chance and that in a well-made film every shot is staged and presented in a certain way to achieve a definite goal. Every time I've watched this sequence my heart skips a beat at this point and the reason why, I'm certain, is exactly because of what I've described above. I've seen George Lucas use this trick too, and I'm sure Spielberg has used it in other films as well, so I can tell you it's not accidental, it's intentional.

And this is why I disagree with those that responded to my post below by saying that they felt all three Indy films are comparable, because the first one is an amazingly meticulous piece of visual narrative. The visual story telling in "Raiders" is so inventive, so daring and so carefully planned that any student of film should watch it and analyze the way it's constructed. There's just no way you can say that about the other two films. They may have their strengths, but they are not nearly as perfectly crafted on a visual level.

The action set pieces in "Raiders" may seem outlandish but they always seem comparatively "natural"; they seem believable within the world of the film and they always seem to flow organically out of the narrative and build in a way that seems plausible...this, in itself, in film, is no small feat. When you think of some of the action set pieces in "Temple of Doom", you have to admit that sequences like the fight on top of the rock-crushing conveyer belt, the Mine Chase and the showdown on the suspension bridge at the end seem like contrived show pieces set on a Hollywood Soundstage and not like they could really happen in the real world. That's fine, there's nothing inherently wrong with that, but I'm never going to be on the edge of my seat when the action doesn't feel natural or "real" on some level, and I just know how much harder it is to write and present things that seem "real" and tangible that I'm always going to prefer that kind of film making. I suppose it comes down to a personal taste issue in the end.

And for those who say "ah, 'Raiders' is no great piece of art, it's exactly like those old Hollywood serials, they're just mindless fun", again, I have to say I disagree, because "Raiders" is a very sophisticated piece of finely crafted visual storytelling, and those old serials can't hold a candle to the film making in "Raiders"...very few movies ever made can.

Personally, I think "Raiders" marked about the time in Spielberg's career where he abandoned the careful way he presented his storytelling and started to get a little sloppy. I just can't think of anything in the other Indiana Jones movies that can hold a candle to the way things were done in the first film, which is why I hold it in much higher regard than the others, and why I am nervous about the prospect of a fourth one.

I was disheartened to see how few people actually responded to the real issue I was trying to address in my last post - the way a character must see and relate to the world around him - and how many people just argued with me about whether the next one will be any good. The only reason I used "Indy 4" as a starting point was because I had just seen the trailer in the theater and it sparked the discussion in my head. Surely there are better examples of that particular topic, but I wasn't overly concerned with the perfect example, the topic is more important than the illustration to me. Obviously, I don't know if "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" will be good - I sure hope so - but that's not really the point I was trying to make, and talking about whether a film is "good" or "bad" is always an exercise in futility because taste is always personal and subjective.

I don't suppose this post will fare much better than the last one did, but hopefully what I've said about geography will spark something with some readers and it will help them to see film in a different way. As a storyboard artist it's really an essential part of making any action sequence have any kind of tension to it, and definitely an interesting aspect of film to study and see how it's been handled by great film directors through the years.

Indaina Jones 4 and the "Reality" of His World

The original "Raiders of the Lost Ark" is an amazing film. I watched it recently and was amazed (all over again) at how smart the movie is, at how well so many of the pieces work together to create such a great movie.

I even caught something that I'd never caught before (I hadn't seen the film in a long time): the idea that Indy starts out the movie as someone who doesn't believe in magic and superstitions and that by the end he fully believes in the power of the Ark. That's his personal journey, his "arc" or the way his character has been changed by the events of the movie.

So understandably the world is excited about the coming of the next Indiana Jones movie. It's funny, everyone seems willing to forget about the more recent two Indy movies and we are all going to pretend that they never existed and that this upcoming one will be a worthy successor to the first one, which, really, is the only movie people ever seem think of when you say "Indiana Jones".

So I hate to be a spoilsport here but there's something about the new trailer that I can't quite swallow and I suppose it's worth talking about because it comes down to a pretty fundamental belief I have about films.

The part of the trailer that sets off alarm bells in my head is the moment when Ray Winstone says "This isn't going to be easy" and Harrison Ford answers "Not as easy as it used to be" (If you haven't seen the trailer, it can be found here or here.

The reason I think this line is troublesome is that it's basically a wink to the audience that refers to the first movie and the fact that the first movie was made over twenty years ago. It's a line that would be meaningless if those first films had never been made and if we weren't all aware of them.

I have a hard time believing that anybody would ever really say that line in that situation. I know people who have aged and have made remarks about their diminished faculties but never at all the way Indy does here, and it's hard to imagine that being the first thing on your mind in the situation that Indiana Jones seems to be in here.

Anyway, my main point is that it's a reference to the first movie and the fact that the character of "Indiana Jones" knows that he exists in movie form, instead of a real character in a real world that exists and once in a while we get to look through a magic screen and spy on him and watch as he has adventures in his world.

It may be hard to see this distinction or see why that matters, I know. Let me try to explain from a different tack:

I've never been a big believer in the approach to film that some people are, that you should sit down and write a biography of your characters and figure out what led them (both emotionally and physically) to the spot they are in when you first see them on the screen. I always felt that it was important to know what they wanted and why they wanted it but I always felt like writing a whole biography for them was a kind of crutch, because you're not going to be showing that part of their life on screen, so to me, writing it down was dangerous because you know it but your audience doesn't, and you might think you're getting all of that on screen, because you've written it all down somewhere, but you're not getting it onscreen unless it's in the script or the storyboards.

So recently I was in a meeting where someone was asking a lot of questions about the characters in the movie I'm working on and we were talking all about the backstory of all of our characters. It was clearly very important to this person and he said, at one point:

"The world of your movie existed before the movie begins, and it will exist after the movie ends."

I have heard that before but never really thought too much about what it means, except that in this specific moment I realized that he was saying that because he wanted the world of our movie to feel real. The reason it's vitally important for the world to feel real is that, unless the world of the movie is real to the characters, you won't ever really believe that they can get hurt, or die, or really fall in love, or that whether or not they ever get what they want really matters at all. And no movie works unless you can believe these things.

I'm not saying that every movie has to feel like reality; not at all. "Toy Story 2" is one of the most emotional movies I've ever seen and yet I know toys don't really get up and talk after everyone leaves the room (well, I'm pretty sure they don't, anyway). Films like "There's Something About Mary" or "Raising Arizona" take place in a strange, cartoony version of our world but I still believes in those worlds, and I always do as long as they seem consistent and they seem real to the characters within it. Movies like "Alien" and "Star Wars" take place in totally alternate universes from ours, but again, if it seems real and consistent to the characters I care about and believe in, I have no trouble buying that those worlds are totally real.

Which brings us back to Indiana Jones. And the reason I am so bothered by the "unreality" of the trailer is that the world of the first movie was so great. It felt so real and so believable and each film since then seems to have dropped the ball on that one completely.

The other moment that really bugs me is when he falls back into the cab of the truck behind him, says "that looked closer" while both he and his enemies look on, dumbfounded, before he regains his composure and punches the person next to him.

There were similar moments like this in the first movie, for sure, but not quite so catoony and unrealistic. In the first film, there would be a physical consequence to something like falling that far and landing on something as unyielding as the cab of a truck. He never would have gone through something like that, had no physical consequence to such an extreme action, and then spouted off a quip while his enemies wait for him to recover.

In fact, in the first movie, all of the humor seemed to come from the fact that Indy was a real guy trying to do extraordinary things and being overwhelmed and confused and scared for most of the time. All of his reactions were humorous but still felt very real. That worked so well, it seemed so funny and it really made you feel like you were following this guy and that you might actually be just like this guy if you went through the same journey. It made you empathize with him and really feel sorry for him when things went badly and root for him to overcome everything.

It's hard to feel sorry for, or emphathize with a guy who's a superhero and never gets hurt or seems to take his peril all that seriously or be afraid of danger, because that's not how I would react in those circumstances, and also if he doesn't seem to care if he survives or not all that much then I sure as hell won't either.

In any case I am sure there are many of you who are thinking "it's just a movie, don't take it so seriously" or "so what if the world of this new movie is different from the world of the first movie"? It's just that the first movie was so great and worked so well, that's it's so frustrating to watch the film makers forget what made the first one so great and squander away what made it work so unbelievably well. I just hate going to the theater and seeing such a pale reflection of something that was once so great, but then again, maybe you will think I'm over-thinking it and aren't movies just about having fun?

Yes, but my favorite movies are ones in which I get an emotional charge out of the experience. And that doesn't mean pulling at your heartstrings or making you cry; it can also mean just putting you on the edge of your seat so that you are scared for a character or just anxious about how the whole thing will turn out in the end. And (to sum up) if the world of your movie doesn't feel like a real place to your characters, then I won't ever really think they can suffer or get hurt or die and I won't really care about how the whole thing turns out.

On a totally unrelated note, I am also concerned that Karen Allen doesn't really appear in the trailer at all. Is she only in the new movie for a scene or two? I hope she gets more to do than that. Marion was one of the greatest film heroines of all time! She was so great and Karen gave such an awesome performance in the first movie, that the actresses of the second and third movie had a giant standard to live up to and obviously neither of them came close. Marion is huge part of what makes the first film work and that's one more example of how the film makers forgot (or didn't realize) what it was about the original that worked so well.

As for those of you wondering how a guy who drank form The Holy Grail and became immortal can still be aging and suffering the effects of advancing years, I don't even know how to begin answering that!

I'm still wondering whatever happened to "Short Round".