Raiders Of The Lost Ark
Harrison Ford as dashing artefact ace Indy.
AT THE POINT in Raiders Of The Lost Ark where intrepid archaeologist™ Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) leaves the Raven bar after dramatically reuniting with old flame Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), have you ever wondered where he goes? Did he find Nepal’s Nando’s? Back to his hotel room to watch sitcom Saved By The Belloq? That you’ve probably never considered this is just one of the millions of magic tricks Raiders pulls off in just 115 minutes. The product of a five-day story conference between director Steven Spielberg, producer George Lucas and screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan, it is once-in-alifetime cinematic alchemy, a profound mix of breathless storytelling, unforgettable characters, off-the-hook action set-pieces, underrated acting (Harrison Ford, best performance in a blockbuster ever? — discuss), indelible moments, impeccable moviemaking and bad dates. It’s a bona-fide American pop classic that is deeply embedded in the culture —a whole episode of The Big Bang Theory is dedicated to its supposed plot-flaw — but somehow feels evergreen.
It goes without saying that the first 13 minutes are an object lesson in how to open a movie. It not only establishes everything you need to know — the character (he loves his whip, hat and objects), his one weakness (“I hate snakes, Jock! I hate ’em!”), the logic of this world (treachery rules) and the feel (movie-movie fun but somehow still convincing) — it also perfectly captures the film’s unique ability to create action that organically, effortlessly escalates: tarantulas, spikes, bottomless pit, collapsing walls, poison darts, a massive rolling boulder. The fight in the Raven bar is bloody and brutal (best gunshot sounds ever), then adds a raging fire to fan the flames. But all that is prelude. The truck chase, storyboarded by Spielberg and shot by secondunit director Michael Moore, is a 12th of the movie, but goes by in a flash. It twists Indy’s fate on a dime: sometimes he’s cheekily swatting Nazis glimpsed in his wing mirror; then he’s under the truck whipping himself to the axle for dear life. Driven by John Williams’ ostinatos and brazenly bold variations on that theme, it’s the most exciting nine minutes in movie history. Maybe in human history.