Raiders Of The Lost Ark
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.
So many memorable beats and supporting characters are burned into your brain: Indy’s reveal in the jungle, I LOVE YOU eyelids, a drinking contest, a sweaty Gestapo agent (Toht is never named in the film), a two-faced monkey, an Arab swordsman, skeletons in catacombs, a bald mechanic, an ill-fitting German uniform, melting faces. Tonally, it’s the best in the series, not too light, not too dark, playful but grown-up. This adult quality is partly due to the sophistication in Kasdan’s writing. There is a depth to the relationships, both big (Indy and Marion) and small (Marion and Sallah). Indy and Belloq (the sublime Paul Freeman) are that rare movie hero-villain combo
who can sit down and believably have a drink together without killing each other (would Tony Stark have a pint with Thanos?). While their differences are evident — Belloq will cross the line for archaeology, Indy won’t — the scene beautifully evinces their similarities.
At a low point following 1941, Spielberg took Lucas’ Star Wars formula — B-movie inspirations, A-movie production values — and imbued it with a streamlined briskness and coherence, a filmmaker fully in control of his talent. It’s in the unforgettable images (a snake slithering through Marion’s shoe, a gun being passed in the foreground as Indy and Belloq talk in the background), the attention to detail (the dust coming off Indy as he is chased to Jock’s plane by tribesmen) and the incredible staging: check out the deceptively simple blocking where Indy and Marion say goodbye on the dockside to Sallah, who bursts into Gilbert & Sullivan. Equally impressive: the small scene in which Indy packs for Nepal, a beautifully choreographed bit of domestic business which is in the top ten of Understated Spielberg Oners. Sometimes, Spielberg’s genius is invisible. He knows the bread-and-butter exposition scene of Indy explaining the Ark to the government agents is long, so instinctively stages it in a huge hall rather than a tiny office.
A Macguffin this awe-inspiring needs space.
As well as equipping us with all the Biblical essentials — Tanis (check), Map Room (check), headpiece to Staff Of Ra (check) — this scene is important in another respect. When Indy describes what is emanating from the Ark — “Lightning… fire… power of God, or something” — it solidifies the idea he is a non-believer, a man of archaeology and fact (hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good bullwhip by your side). He is interested in rare antiquities and this is the arc (as opposed to the Ark) that he is going on, in two respects. Firstly, it is not hard to imagine that Indy’s obsession with stuff probably contributed to the breakdown of his relationship with Marion. Without any obvious signposting, Raiders delivers a beautifully etched journey from Indy only caring about ancient artefacts to caring about a woman. The tide starts to turn when Indy believes Marion is dead; he is literally reborn from the Well Of Souls as a new man. By the time he is holding a bazooka in a canyon (the same Tunisian location where R2-D2 is zapped by Jawas) and Belloq is swallowing flies, he doesn’t want the Ark — he wants the girl.
But Indy’s refusal to blow up the Ark also plays into perhaps the biggest area of his character growth. The film teaches Indy to believe. Not blowing the object to smithereens is a tacit admission that he now believes the Ark is more than just a gold box. When he is tied to a stake with Marion, he is forced to find faith in something larger than himself. And for the naysayers who dub Indy a passive hero who doesn’t affect the final outcome (its supposed plot flaw), what he does do is something much more radical: he changes himself. RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK IS OUT NOW ON DVD, BLU-RAY AND DIGITAL