The biblical archaeologist at my seminary once donned Indiana Jones–inspired attire to publicize one of his discoveries. He claimed not to enjoy this publicity stunt. If so, he’s about the only movie-watching male who didn’t want to play at being Indy, the brainy, hip, unflappable professor of archaeology who could fight off Nazis with little more than a fedora and a bullwhip.
After a 19-year hiatus, director Steven Spielberg and producer George Lucas have provided the fourth installment of the series, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Watching it is like attending a high school reunion: it’s nice to see everybody and to reminisce over the old days, but everyone’s rounder around the middle and crinklier around the eyes, and it’s just not the same.