When RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK was released in 1981, it did the unthinkable – the movie superseded the previous works that creator-producer George Lucas and director Steven Spielberg had each done individually in genre filmmaking. And that said a lot, with Lucas on the heels of the first two STAR WARS films, and Spielberg just a few years away from JAWS and CLOSE ENCOUNTERS. Add Harrison (Han Solo) Ford to the mix, and you had a producer-director-star team that couldn’t miss.
Of course, the whole was greater than the sum of the parts, and RAIDERS was perhaps the finest work that any of the three men had delivered to date. Every shot in RAIDERS was a mini-masterpiece, every line memorably delivered, every image indelible. It would be impossible to surpass, and though Spielberg released the ultimate genre pic E.T. the next year and Lucas and Ford provided the third STAR WARS film the following year (failing to top the instant classics of STAR WARS and EMPIRE STRIKES BACK), the group re-teamed with INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM for a monster summer 1984 release.
DOOM had more thrills and chills than RAIDERS, and like EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, was a significantly darker film than the original which spawned it. Rumors of an X rating abounded, and critics lashed out at the violence, though most audiences ate up a return trip with the character and the frantic pace of the film’s second half. DOOM was not as good a film as RAIDERS, but as sequels go, it provided much of the content that audiences beckoned in a genre sequel.
Five years would pass before the third installment, INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE, which dumbed down the character by making him the infantile son to Sean Connery’s father. Much of the magic of the first two films was long gone, as the time differential between films seemed to have sapped the intangibles away from the screen. Lucas was way past the original STAR WARS trilogy by that period, and Ford and Spielberg had both established themselves in more serious non-genre material in the mid-to-late 1980s. Were their hearts not in it anymore? One would think so, and the aging franchise seemed destined for trilogy status and endless DVD repackagings where it would rightfully claim its position as the best homage ever created to classic movie serials which simultaneously gave audiences one of the great movie heroes of all time.
But then a funny thing happened. After a near decade without much in the way of original filmmaking content, Lucas decided to resurrect the STAR WARS franchise, albeit with mostly new characters. Thus, the late 1990s and early 2000s were rife with re-releases of older films infused with new material and highly trumpeted newer films, all of which reminded us why the original STAR WARS trilogy was great in the first place and probably should have been left as is in the collective minds of fans as one of genre’s most awesome triumphs.
Was a return to the RAIDERS cinema machine inevitable? Lucas’ lone dual franchises were ripe for continuation despite evidence in STAR WARS of the unlikelihood of re-popularizing a long deceased property. Surely, the new STAR WARS films made loads of money, but with Lucas’ many holdings and businesses, money would hardly seem a goal of his at this juncture. Or would it?
With few artistic reasons to continue a dormant cinema legend, one could only intuit that Lucas banked on STAR WARS and now INDY to rebuild his empire or at least re-found the monuments that he has built to himself in the Bay Area. More rumors of possible scripts have come and gone over the years, with the newest version lastly credited to David Koepp. With this final screenplay and guaranteed participation from Spielberg and Ford, why not attempt another Indy? If STAR WARS showed Lucas anything, he has a whole new generation of fans who are willing to shell out unlimited cash for what were cinematic icons.
Surely, age must have been weighing on the minds of the participants. Lucas and Ford are both well into their 60s with Spielberg just entering his, and the trio must have assumed a now-or-never philosophy if they were going to do INDY again. If they had a winning script and the same team that created legend once, why not once more, even though the first film was realized almost 30 years ago.
Alas, what Lucas has ultimately presented this time out in the form of a MacGuffin—as he and Alfred Hitchcock have designated the somewhat meaningless object of a quest whose journey is the real treat—is a faint echo of lost arks, magic stones, and holy grails. In fact, the crystal skull of the title turns out to be less an inventive sacred object and more one of minor curiosity, of primary interest to UFO conspiracy theorists, more likely for completists alone.
Much more troubling is the fact that the magic, already waning in 1989, has clearly suffered in many other ways. Spielberg is still the filmmaker he has always been, but without the formerly fresh qualities of the character and his predicaments abounding, has far too little to work with to conjure a compelling film. It is at first thrilling to see Ford back in the familiar Indiana Jones hat, but shortly into the film, we also realize that with little of interest to pursue in the story, the actor is having a difficult time wearing his Indy role decades after he stopped doing this type of work onscreen. However, his advancing age – 65 when he shot the movie – ends up being less of a factor than one would think.
All of which leaves most of the blame at Lucas’ feet. His co-writers on the story and screenplay are really at Lucas’ behest, and other screenplays for CRYSTAL SKULL which Ford and Spielberg loved were reportedly rejected by Lucas for unknown reasons. What remains is thoroughly underwhelming even if it exists in the province of the INDIANA JONES realm. Car chases only serve to remind one of the brilliance of RAIDERS. Caricatured villains from the earlier films are replaced by even more implausible and forgettable Russians. Setting the film in 1957 was an inevitability with Ford in the cast, but does little to provide a sense of time and place after an extended prologue. Surely, there are some fun touches, like seeing Karen Allen again, although she is in the story for no particular reason. Plus we catch a glimpse of that lost ark, last viewed in the shocking warehouse epilogue from the first film. But reminiscing about the earlier films just make us wish for their glory again.
As a footnote, the filmmakers, fronting their piece with a sexagenarian, must have felt it necessary to cast a young character with whom demographical audiences could identify. But they missed the mark with Shia LaBeouf, who enters the film like Brando and leaves with the indication that the torch may be passed to him for a new slew of INDY films with his character at the forefront. But, at the last second, with LaBeouf about to claim his rightful heir to the INDY throne, Ford grabs the proverbial hat as if to say, “Not as long as I’m alive, kid,” without using any dialogue. What exactly that indicates about the future of INDY is anyone’s guess, though one should not be surprised to learn of a fifth installment in the very near future. If Lucas has his way, his franchises might continue forever, but wouldn’t we all be more pleased if he concocted a new one?
RUSH LIVE in LOS ANGELES - RUSH SLINGS THIRTY YEARS OF ARROWS
By Scott Essman
As a preface to this review, I have a confession to make – I have not seen Rush, once my favorite band on the planet, in 18 years, since the played the Pacific Amphitheater in Costa Mesa, California just after I had moved back to my adopted home in Southern California. What’s worse, I had not purchased a complete new Rush recording since “Presto” in 1989. Whether I had moved on or whether the band had done so was unclear. But time did not stand still for either of us, and Rush’s efforts in the near two decades since my last show had slipped under my radar. Surely, I was aware of their new work but felt it was but a shadow of their previous efforts, especially their ultimate creative peak of 1976-1981. But for one night, all of that changed.
On May 8, 2008 at the new Nokia Theater in downtown Los Angeles, on a spot I formerly used for parking at Staples Center, I had a chance to relive some of my missed past if only for one last time. My first Rush records were purchased in the unthinkably distant past of the early 1980s and my first Rush show was on September 19, 1983 at Radio City Music Hall in New York City, on the occasion of my 17th birthday. That show was part of a stint of multiple nights in New York in which the band was testing out songs from their unreleased “Grace Under Pressure” album.
Coming at a time where other celebrated 80s acts such as The Police and Van Halen have reunited and toured, the current concert juggernaut of Rush, who began headlining hockey/basketball arenas by the late 1970s, has really never stopped, but for a six-year hiatus in the late 1990s/early 2000s for personal reasons. As such, they are a well-oiled machine, newly breaking their set up into two parts without any supporting act. With two nights at the 7100-seat Nokia followed by a night in Orange County, in the Irvine/Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, Rush is playing to well more than 25,000 people in the great LA area for this tour, an extension of last year’s Snakes and Arrows shows.
By the new millennium, Rush’s commercial recording peak had likely passed, in part certainly due to the band’s absence at the time. Not including live albums and repackaged hits albums, the last Rush studio album to go gold according to the Recording Industry Association of America was 1996’s “Test for Echo,” while their last platinum studio album upon its release was 1985’s “Power Windows.” Nonetheless, they have maintained their status as arena kings, and the May 8 show proved why.
For nearly three hours of stage time (the band, “no longer spring chickens” according to singer Geddy Lee, takes a 20-minute intermission), Rush plays the new and the old, satisfying both themselves and their newer fans, while finding room for the diehards who might have seen them back in 1976, the date of their oldest songs on this part of the tour. That year featured the groundbreaking album “2112” a futuristic concept album whose first entire side was one song broken into several movements. Though the followup, “A Farewell to Kings,” which might have even surpassed “2112,” was not covered in the show, the next record, perhaps Rush’s pinnacle creatively, “Hemispheres” was acknowledged with a stirring rendition of “The Trees,” the band’s treatise on sociology.
Much of the rest of the catalogue was given at least one memorable tune in the show, especially two brilliant songs from 1980s “Permanent Waves” which saw the band departing from conceptual albums with lengthy numbers to shorter more taught songs. Most thrillingly, the band played the entire first side (though not in sequence) of “Moving Pictures” their 1981 album which probably presented Rush at their commercial peak. Some inclusions were questionable, such as ”Between The Wheels” from 1984’s “Grace Under Pressure” when several other songs – a few of which I saw live at the aforementioned 1983 concert – are musically superior, especially in a live setting. But such complaints are mere quibbles when the band does the honor to their longtime fans by spreading hidden gems amongst the newer material. Though some albums such as “Power Windows” were ignored entirely, it hardly made a difference to the adoring crowd, who often featured an older fan with a child or younger spouse.
Certainly, aside from being a working band with a new album to promote, one advantage that Rush has over other live acts, is that all three players are virtuosos at their instruments. Lee has always been a capable lead man, especially buried behind his ever- present bass and bank of keyboards. His playing on instruments and to the crowd has always been spot on even if his vocals are a bit more strained than decades ago. Guitarist Alex Lifeson might get less attention than his bandmates, but his inventive riffs and array of styles have perennially been among the best in this type of music. Which leaves Neil Peart, the band’s primary lyricist and drummer/percussionist. Always a fan and lay musician’s favorite, Peart’s drumming and soloing remain as awe-inspiring as ever and scarily might have improved over time. His reflexes might not be as fast as the man they called “the professor of the drum kit” in 1976, but he has integrated new styles and dimensions to his lengthy but fully stirring solo spot. Simply, the man is a marvel and is certainly the most unique drummer in any major rock act of the past 30 years.
When the band finally closed with mainstay instrumental “YYZ” even a fallen Rush fan has enjoyed a hearty meal of playing and material. Too few acts, especially those on the nostalgia circuit seem to have that respect for their audience. Rush might be a dinosaur in the view of cynics, but the band still produces and pleases, and that they continue to do so after more than 30 years might be their most impressive feat of all.
Scott Essman
VISIONARY MEDIA
scottessman@yahoo.com
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By Scott Essman
