Two lesser lights outshine Spielberg’s Temple of Doom.
Directed by Steven Spielberg; story by George Lucas. Rated PG.
This mega-hyped celluloid comic book is an example of what happens when people have millions of dollars to make movies but, sadly, little to say.
The action opens with a singer crooning “Anything Goes.” And, in Temple of Doom, it certainly does, including enough violence to supply several revolutions, ripping of hearts out of living bodies, whippings, ritual tortures, and dunking of victims in molten lava. Detouring into cuisine, we witness the swallowing of live snakes; and—for the specialist—stately princes gobbling chilled monkey brains right out of the skull, soups full of floating eyeballs, and much more. The film is, as the euphemism goes, “too intense” for children. Many reviewers, including columnist George Will, think it deserves an R rating or worse.
For adults capable of laughing at this puerile stuff, it still falls short. Leaving the theater, one misses the usual, “Wow, I wonder how they did that?” With stunts providing insufficient attraction, not much is left.
Indiana Jones, having survived a nightclub shootout with a sinister Oriental, finds himself dropped from the sky into India, where villagers have been praying for someone to rescue their sacred stone from a gang of crazed idolaters and slave drivers. Braving the multitudinous perils, in company with a young Chinese and a floozy nightclub singer, Indiana ventures forth.
At one point, the chief villain mumbles something about destroying the Hebrew God and the Christian God. “You have betrayed Shiva,” Indiana tells him, digressing into theology, adding that the Bad Guy will wind up “in hell.” But there is no real symbolism here, no spiritual subplot—and for that everyone may be thankful.
Ultimately, Temple of Doom is about the Hollywood religion—money. There is only one commandment in this faith: If it makes money, imitate it. In this case, there is no reason to contribute.
This film may signify that George Lucas has had his day. The glorification of gore usually signifies a bankrupt imagination. And Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is just offal.
Reviewed by Lloyd Billingsley, a writer living in California.
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