Harrison Ford’s Return as Indiana Jones Is So Damn Disappointing
You can’t go home again, but don’t tell that to Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny, which gives 80-year-old Harrison Ford his trusty fedora and whip and sends his famed archaeologist on one last international artifact-hunting adventure.
In every respect, this fifth entry in the decades-spanning series turns its gaze backwards, from its numerous shout-outs to prior entries to its reuse of John Williams’ iconic musical themes to its supernaturally oriented story itself. Yet despite this guiding interest in yesteryear, the wannabe-blockbuster sequel (in theaters June 30) is an act of nostalgia that, at heart, isn’t true to that which it’s nostalgic for.
Directed by James Mangold (taking over for Steven Spielberg, who helmed the previous four installments), Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is primarily set in 1969, but works hard to make itself look like its ancestors, whether its action takes place in bustling New York City, the narrow streets and marketplaces of Tangiers, or the dark subterranean caves of Sicily.