Well, I'm in Ontario, and have already done a few of my pilgrimage rites: caught up on sleep, went to the art store, drove by Sheridan and gave it the finger, and saw Indiana Jones last night. I left the theatre feeling very mixed and not quite sure what to feel... Nonetheless, here is my quick and dirty review (spoilers ahoy):

Despite the movie's flaws, the beginning was magnificent. When the mean n' nasty Soviets dragged Junior from the trunk of their car and he picked up his hat and then we saw him, yes, he was old, but he was still Indy, still our Dr. Jones, and I felt my heart swelling with movie-love for this iconic character. And in the beginning all was well, and the movie seemed more to be a meditation on the aging of magnificent human beings who've had magnificent lives, and how even though they can defeat Nazis and save the world again and again ... well, we all end up as worm food. It was fine with me that Indy was old (as was Harrison Ford, and Steven Spielberg, and George Lucas), and I was glad they weren't pretending this was 1936 and Indy was as ageless and as transferable as James Bond. The world was passing Indy (and Harrison, and Steven and George) by, and belonged (and belongs) now to Shia LeBoeuf ... but maybe that's not a bad thing, since he seemed so attentive to what these old coots could teach him. He washed the stink of Michael Bay and Transformers off, and emerged the other side a nice looking kid, maybe with a bit of his dad's wild side (yes, of course he was Indy's son, and the best exchange in the entire movie had to do with not-clued-in-yet Indy telling his dropout son that it was fine Mutt wasn't in school ... only to have Indy completely change his tune once he found out Mutt was his kid. I found that quite enduring, especially after having just seen The Last Crusade. You shouldn't be so hard on your Dad, Indy).

So it was good, and it was fine and I was so happy that the movie was gelling and that I liked that Harrison Ford was old and then ... it all went to hell. I don't quite know why. I know that Indy is a homage to the B-movies of old, but for some reason, the Macguffin, which lead to a convoluted plot about aliens on earth, rang wrong to me. Indiana Jones vs. Aliens? I don't know why it made me squirm. All three movies had gods (or God) in them, so why should a different god (an outer space god) seem so ... well, gross? I don't know. Maybe because it reminded me too much of The X-Files? Or because it wasn't about a supernatural being or a god at all, but rather a technologically advanced race from "the space between worlds"? It came off like a ripoff of the weakest Tintin book, Flight 714.

I was also troubled by the fact that despite Spielberg's insistence that he was going old skool, and lightening up on the CG, the movie had the unnecessary glossy sheen of something sent through the ILM wringer. Why were there CG monkeys? Why were there CG gophers? The creepy crawly ants (during our patented Indy-gross-out-sequence) didn't have the tactile feel of the snakes, bugs or rats of the previous movies, and I didn't feel the actors' squirmy "I don't want to be here!" energy. I missed that.

So of course it wasn't brilliant, of course it fell short. But at least there were those lovely first 40 minutes ... I don't know who to blame for the last hour, but I'm sure I'll find someone to point my finger at. Why is it that I instantly want to blame Lucas and not Spielberg? That's probably incredibly unfair.

Oh, and the preview for FRANK MILLER PRESENTS FRANK MILLER'S THE SPIRIT DIRECTED BY FRANK MILLER ran in front of the movie, and it's even more terrible on the big screen than it was on YouTube. I will take a thousand Indy vs. Aliens movies before I watch that load of crap.