The Lost Arc of Indiana Jones
Dial of Destiny is the fitting end to the real character arc of its hero.
There are many character studies on Indiana Jones’ lack of character.
These theories claim that Indy has little to no effect on the story of his adventures, especially Raiders of the Lost Ark. It is a well-known theory popularized in an episode of The Big Bang Theory.
The exchanges between Sheldon and his fellow cast members over Indiana Jones and Raiders are priceless and fondly remind me of the conversations I share with my fellow writers and friends at Cinematics about film.
In the episode "The Raiders Minimization," the cast of The Big Bang Theory wonderfully presents the commonly held theory:
SHELDON: “Raiders of the Lost Ark is the love child of Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, two of the most gifted filmmakers of our generation. I’ve watched it 36 times… I defy you to find a story problem.”
AMY: “Indiana Jones plays no role in the outcome of the story. If he weren’t in the film, it would turn out exactly the same. If he weren’t in the movie, the Nazis would still have found the Ark, taken it to the island, opened it up and all died just like they did.”
Sheldon’s jaw drops, and audience laughter ensues. While veiled in comedy, the show’s presentation of the theory brings attention to a story problem endemic to the franchise and its hero. It is a story problem that merits serious consideration.
Later, the gang is watching and pondering the rolling credits of the first film as the triumphant Raiders March plays in the background.
They collectively stare in silence for a moment when Howard has a thought.
HOWARD: Wait, wait, if it wasn’t for Indiana Jones, the Ark would never have ended up at the warehouse!
SHELDON: Oh, that’s true! He collected and delivered the Ark to the proper authorities for filing.
RAJ: Like a hero!
ALL: [cheers and excitement]
LEONARD: Although, technically, Indy was supposed to take the Ark to a museum to be studied. He couldn’t even get that done.
They all sigh in disappointment and defeat. Indiana Jones is irrelevant to his story.
Is Indiana Jones Actually Irrelevant to His Story?
I answer in the negative along with others who have written on the subject. In the last few years, the theory has been criticized in anticipation of the fifth and final entry of the franchise, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny.
Ken Miyamoto, Niall Gray, and Vinnie Mancuso explain the flaws of the theory and its inherent misunderstanding of the film and the character of Indiana Jones.
Their weakest arguments against the theory attempt to ground Indiana Jones within the story and identify his causal powers over its outcome.
Sheldon and the gang struggling to find and defend the self-determination of their childhood hero demonstrate the futility of such endeavors.
Proving Indy’s relevance to the surface-level story, even successfully, is unsatisfactory because it relegates our hero to something small and shallow when we know he is great and deep.
In a 2022 ScreenCraft article Miyamoto points out that Indiana Jones facing his fear of snakes in the Well of Souls demonstrates a character arc. He writes, “Indy has transformed from a person that previously had a fear of snakes, and into a person that could face that fear head-on. He still may very well fear them, but he has grown a little backbone when it comes to dealing with them.”
The strongest arguments against the theory focus on what Miyamoto calls the “inner-emotional journeys of Indiana Jones with his emotional connections to other characters.” He claims that approaching the character of Indiana Jones with these inner transformations in mind reveals “one of the best characters in the history of cinema — complete with depth and arc.” I cannot agree more.
In another 2022 piece released by Screen Rant, Gray attempts to debunk that “Indiana Jones did nothing” by demonstrating our hero’s effect on the outcomes of the story.
He concludes by acknowledging the importance of our hero’s inner growth as a character and describes his journey over the course of the film as “one that sees him learn to properly respect the power of the artifacts he's chasing, allowing Indiana Jones to survive when the Ark killed the Nazis who opened it.” He makes an important connection between Indy’s internal journey and its effects on the unfolding events of the external adventure.
Mancuso observes in a recent Collider piece that “Indiana Jones has no effect on the outcome of Raiders of the Lost Ark because that's not the story of Raiders of the Lost Ark. That would be Indy's emotional arc, crystal clear from the moment we meet him.” His piece is an excellent investigation of Indiana Jones’ “emotional arc.”
All these defenders of Indy’s character arc draw attention to his transformational journey from within as opposed to his literal adventure from without. I hope to magnify and build upon the work of such defenders.
I wish to further clarify and magnify their defense against claims of Indy’s “irrelevance” to his story by affirming the internal, emotional, and spiritual nature of his real character arc.
Finally, I intend to build upon their defense by demonstrating that the Dial of Destiny is the fitting end to the franchise and the character arc of its hero.
The Lost Arc of Jihād & Why It Matters for Indiana Jones
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny moved me to reflect upon its hero in ways I never considered. I felt a strong desire to re-experience the preceding films and the childhood hero I grew up watching and loving. I was surprised by how deeply they moved me as an adult and how the man in the fedora continues to move me in obvious ways I never noticed or understood. I unknowingly began approaching Indy, as Miyamoto suggests, from within instead of without.
As a character, Indiana Jones is concerned with jihād.
According to Britannica, “jihad, (Arabic: “struggle” or “effort”) also spelled jehad, in Islam, is defined as a meritorious struggle or effort. The exact meaning of the term jihād depends on context; it has often been erroneously translated in the West as ‘holy war.’ Jihād, particularly in the religious and ethical realm, primarily refers to the human struggle to do what is right and to prevent what is wrong.”
In rewatching the films of the franchise, I was struck by the realization that Indiana Jones is a professor and archeologist who rarely does much teaching and archeology. On the contrary, we often find him in a meritorious struggle, effort, or fight each and every step he takes in his adventures. We need only watch the opening sequence of each film to see it.
While Indiana Jones fights many physical battles against the natural world and the people who live in it, he simultaneously wages a greater war that is unseen: a spiritual, supernatural war between the forces of good and evil.
The Adventure Without: The Battle Between Good & Evil
It would be impossible to divorce Indiana Jones from the spiritual, supernatural, and unknown. The Ark, the Stones, the Grail, the Skull, and the Dial are steeped in the spiritual, supernatural, and the unknown. More importantly, these artifacts are the necessary, but ultimately insignificant, “MacGuffins” that move the plot of the story from without and Indiana Jones from within. They are amoral artifacts, objects, devices, tools, and things used for moral ends.
If Indiana Jones engages in a spiritual, supernatural war, who or what is he waging that war against?
Evil is the simple, obvious answer. Indy’s father, Henry Jones Sr., understands this well and tries to help his son see it too when they stop at a crossroads in the Last Crusade.
Henry slaps his son across the face for blaspheming and says, “The quest for the Grail is not archaeology; it's a race against evil! If it is captured by the Nazis, the armies of darkness will march all over the face of the Earth!”
One way or another, whether he likes it or not, Indy always fights against the embodiments of evil. He fights Nazis, Thuggee cultists, Russians, Americans, and anyone who seeks to use these amoral, supernatural artifacts of history for evil ends.
The villains of each adventure never create or manufacture the powers they desire to wield for evil ends. Evil cannot create. It can only corrupt, mar, and abuse good things like the artifacts they seek. That is why Indy meritoriously battles but never defeats the antagonist of each film.
Evil defeats itself. The corruption and misuse of the artifacts lead evil to its demise.
René Belloq opens the Ark and dies, Mola Ram is burned by the Sankara stones and dies, Walter Donavan drinks from the wrong Grail and dies, and Irina Spalko “wants to know” and dies. The fate of Jürgen Voller in the Dial of Destiny is no different.
By contrast, Indy’s greater knowledge of and eventual respect for each of these spiritual, supernatural artifacts saves him and his companions from death and leads to life.
While interesting and true, it further reveals Indy’s small role in the battle between good and evil in his adventures.
Indiana Jones and his friends partake in the fight for the right, but evil destroys itself. Good prevails despite their involvement and valiant efforts.
How can a character so small and insignificant in the outcome of his adventures feel so big and significant to us?
The unseen war Indy fights without is grand and entertaining, but the spiritual war he fights within is far more profound and moving, as Miyamoto and other defenders observe.
After all, the only constant of these adventures is Indiana Jones.
The Adventure Within: The Battle Between Hero & Villain
If Indiana Jones is indeed engaging in a spiritual, supernatural war against himself, what is he fighting against?
Once again, evil is the simple, obvious answer—the temptation to do evil and become a villain, the opposite of a hero. It is tempting for Indiana Jones to become the thief and grave-robber many accuse him of being.
While many examples demonstrate Indy’s inner struggle between good and evil, I will focus on a particular scene from Raiders and his trusty equipment to illustrate the jihād within.
The Hero & Villain: Indiana Jones & René Belloq are Reflections of Each Other
In Raiders, mercenary archeologist René Belloq utters these words to our hero in his moment of tragedy and despair:
“You and I are very much alike,” he says with a smile, “Archaeology is our religion, yet we have both fallen from the purer faith. Our methods have not differed as much as you pretend. I am a shadowy reflection of you. It would take only a nudge to make you like me, to push you out of the light.”
Indy’s eyes and gnashed teeth betray him as he admits: “Now you’re getting nasty.”
Belloq tempts Indiana Jones with a half-truth. They are two sides to the same coin, but their difference comes down to choice.
The choice to do good or to do evil, to become good or to become evil. As the scene continues, Indy succumbs to Belloq’s temptation. He willingly falls into his trap.
Belloq says, “Jones, do you realize what the Ark is? It's a transmitter. It's a radio for speaking to God. And it's within my reach.” Indy mocks, “You want to talk to God? Let's go see him together. I've got nothing better to do.”
Death is certain as Belloq's men train guns on Indy, and he knows it. Indiana Jones is preparing to make a poor choice—the choice to get revenge and die for nothing.
Blinded by rage and alcohol, Indy rises to attack Belloq and prepares to throw his life away when he is magically saved by a crowd of children who escort him to safety.
He should have died, but he cannot die. He’s the hero, and the combined talents of George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Harrison Ford constantly remind us of this fact and truth.
The Hero & Death: Is Indiana Jones Immortal?
Yes and no. Indiana Jones is the hero archetype so he cannot die a physical death, but he can be hurt from without and, more importantly, within.
We often see Indy bruised and bleeding because he is flesh and blood. He is also fallible.
He makes countless mistakes and poor choices before our very eyes. He struggles to do the right thing to the best of his limited, imperfect abilities. He’s human like the rest of us, but we never doubt his heart is good.
Twice in the Last Crusade, Indy reminds us of his goodness when he famously shouts, “It belongs in a museum!” The “it” is the artifacts and history he strives to preserve.
History is Indy’s true love, first and foremost. He loves her even more than Marion, his actual true love. He loves history for the sake of history and the educational value of the precious artifacts he tries to find and protect.
We will return to Indy’s love of history when we turn to the Dial of Destiny later. By contrast, Belloq doesn’t love history like Indiana Jones does.
As a mercenary archeologist, first and foremost, Belloq loves what history can get him rather than history itself. Belloq’s ambivalence about working with the Nazis only further reveals his deep corruption and true motivations. He desires the power, wealth, and knowledge that history offers to satisfy his insatiable ambitions. He has fallen from the purer faith, but Indiana Jones has not and never will.
In addition to his deep love of history, the hat, the name, and the whip represent Indy’s heroism and goodness.
The Hero & Aesthetic: Symbols of Indiana Jones’ Heroism & Goodness
Indiana Jones is equipped to fight evil without and within. His hat, name, and whip are his most loyal allies.
The Famous Fedora
While undergoing many changes throughout the franchise and serving various interesting practical purposes, the famous fedora is an extension of Indiana Jones and his heroism. Like Superman’s cape and costume or Captain America’s shield, the hat is the source of Indy’s power as the hero.
In the opening actions sequence of the Last Crusade, we discover that “Indiana Jones's preferred fedora originally belonged to a treasure hunter named Garth, who… seeing spirit in the young man, put his fedora on Jones' head, and told him, ‘You lost today, kid, but that doesn't mean you have to like it.’”
The fedora transforms Henry Walton Jones, Jr. into the hero we know and love. The hat comes with the alter ego, Indiana Jones. It is the name he gave himself—the name he stole from the family dog.
The Powerful Name
Indy can never lose his hat for long nor stand to hear his given name used by his father throughout the Last Crusade. Without his hat and his name, he is no longer himself.
In the most impactful and beautiful scene of the franchise, Henry Jones, Sr. reminds his son of who he is because forgetting himself and his true name, the name he chose, nearly cost his life in pursuit of the Grail:
As Henry pulls Indy to safety, the faint swell of the famous “bum, ba-da bum” reminds us that our hero has returned to himself and lives.
The final shot of the Dial of Destiny puts a fine point on this fact and truth.
While donning his famous fedora and alter ego, Indy also carries a whip, a tool and weapon used throughout history to herd animals and dominate human beings.
The Righteous Whip
Indiana Jones wields the icon of human slavery, an evil thing, for human freedom, a good thing.
The whip subdues his enemies while freeing himself and his friends from danger as they swing to safety elsewhere. Unlike his antagonists, Indy uses evil for good.
The irony is most apparent when Indy uses his whip to defeat the Thuggee slavers and free the children they enslave.
George Lucas’ famous hero, Indiana Jones, is the antithesis of John Ford’s infamous villain, Liberty Valance.
Each carries and uses a whip, but they could not be more different as they move opposite each other, the former toward heroism and the latter toward villainy.
Lucas’ thoughtful creation of the character, Spielberg’s masterful work behind the camera, and Ford’s passionate performances bring the hero of Indiana Jones to life.
It ought to give us pause how we can hang upon every choice Indy makes while knowing, in our bones, that he will always live to don the hat another day. He will always return from the dangers and evils he faces, including his mistakes and faults.
Much like us, he struggles, but he learns and grows from his misadventures with his trusted hat, name, whip, and friends to help him along the way.
Jihād in Indiana Jones & His Adventures
The films of the franchise are often described as “a long chase sequence” or “a race from one set piece to another.”
Steven Spielberg even describes the franchise as “a movie that’s a trailer from beginning to end—always be moving.”
While common themes persist throughout the films, it is often said that each stands alone. They do not need to be enjoyed chronologically because the films of the franchise are non-linear and non-sequential.
The Indiana Jones Movies in Order, According to Disney+
Raiders of the Lost Ark: Indiana Jones races evil forces to find the legendary Ark of the Covenant.
The Temple of Doom: Indiana Jones goes on a journey to recover a sacred stone.
The Last Crusade: Indiana Jones teams with his father in a race to locate the Holy Grail.
The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: Indiana Jones and friends must outsmart a plot to find the Crystal Skull.
The Dial of Destiny (A Special Look): Relive all the adventures.
On a surface level, these descriptions are correct. They focus on the MacGuffins distinguishing each adventure and the good and evil forces seeking them. The unique description of the Dial of Destiny ought to give us pause as it claims to recapture all of Indy’s preceding adventures.
Indiana Jones is the only constant.
Unlike many modern films, which often strap their characters and audiences into the cinematic equivalent of a “theme park” ride, Indiana Jones is free to move and be moved by what he encounters in each adventure, much like his hat is free to move and be moved by the wind, fortuitously carried where it needs to be.
The plots and performances in each film entertain us, as any good movie should, but the character at the center of it all intends to move us as he grows and develops throughout each adventure.
If we consider each film as a development and further fulfillment of Indiana Jones’ heroism, as a progression toward good instead of evil, the films of the franchise can be ordered and described not only as distinct, entertaining adventures but as one long, arduous journey inward.
I am indebted to Dwight Longenecker and Tyler Hiebert, in particular, among many other talented writers, for their insightful work on the character of Indiana Jones and its development in each film of the original franchise.
I have co-opted the essence of their observations, like a thief or graverobber of ideas, and present them as the necessary stepping stones to understanding and appreciating the fitting end to Indy’s lost character arc in the Dial of Destiny.
The nuance of Longenecker’s and Hiebert’s arguments are worth exploring in their works. They each attempt to track the recurring themes and inner developments of Indiana Jones’ character across the films of the franchise.
If you want to make your family and friends question your sanity, compare and contrast the Indiana Jones posters for each film and note their differences.
Identifying the persistent themes in the adventures of Indiana Jones reveal the jihād within. It is necessary to start with the Temple of Doom—which is the second film of the franchise, but technically a prequel and, thus, the first of the stories chronologically.
The Indiana Jones Movies in Chronological Order
The Temple of Doom: Indiana Jones goes on a journey to recover the sacred Sankara stones, “a ghost story,” for “fortune and glory,” but he abandons these personal desires and ambitions to save the local village that recruited him and free the children enslaved by Thuggee cultists. He leaves the adventure with nothing but his friend and companion, Short Round, and his will they or won't they love interest, Willie Scott.
Raiders of the Lost Ark: Indiana Jones races evil forces to find the legendary Ark of the Covenant. He initially believes the Ark is “hocus pocus, the boogeyman,” but he and his long lost love, Marion, close their eyes in recognition of the Ark’s real, supernatural power and save themselves from death. He leaves the adventure with nothing but his true love, Marion, and the promise of a drink.
The Last Crusade: Indiana Jones teams with his estranged father in a race to locate the Holy Grail. He is unsure if the Grail exists, but his friend, Marcus, reassures him that “the search for the Grail is the search for the divine in all of us. But if you want facts, Indy, I've none to give you. At my age, I'm prepared to take a few things on faith.” At the end of the film, Indy takes a literal “leap of faith” to retrieve the Grail and save his father from death. He leaves the adventure with nothing but his friends and, more importantly, a renewed relationship with his father.
The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: Indiana Jones and his companions search for the Crystal Skull, the remains of interdimensional beings with telepathic powers and untapped wisdom, which the Soviets intend to use to conquer the world. Indy describes the skull as “interesting craftsmanship” but “nothing more.” As Col. Dr. Irina Spalko steps up to return the skull and gain superior knowledge, she says, “Belief, Dr. Jones, is a gift you have yet to receive. My sympathies.” Indy replies, “Oh, I believe, sister. That's why I'm down here.” He leaves the adventure with nothing but his friends and family. He reunites with his true love, Marion, once again and marries her at the end of the film with Mutt, a son he never knew existed, by his side.
Three Moral Teachings in the Adventures of Indiana Jones
The recurring themes of jihād and the inner developments of Indy’s character across the films of the franchise contain much wisdom.
His capacity for belief and love grow with each adventure because they inextricably tie to three moral teachings that Indiana Jones must learn again and again:
You cannot always get what you think you want.
You cannot know everything.
You can get what you need because it is right in front of you.
Each adventure contains these three moral teachings and helps Indy overcome the struggles he must face without and within.
Indiana Jones never gets what he thinks he wants, namely the artifacts and the “fortune and glory” they entail. When faced with the real power of these artifacts, which Indy doubts at the beginning of each adventure, our hero puts aside his desires, hubris, and ambitions by being self-controlled, penitent, and faithful in their presence.
He accepts that there are some things he cannot understand and control because they are beyond natural, rational, scientific explanations. His capacity for belief grows with each film as he grapples with the things he has seen but cannot explain.
As Hiebert argues in “The Temple and the Laboratory,” there is a constant tension between religion and science. Indy must grapple with it and many other opposing concepts. Even if he could closely study these spiritual, supernatural artifacts, the opportunity escapes him.
Indiana Jones never gets to keep the artifacts he finds nor the fortune and glory that comes with them. At the end of each adventure, he receives something priceless and far more precious.
It is the thing he needs, which is the one thing he cannot take or dig up because it has to be given to him, namely love.
Each adventure ends with Indy securing the love and admiration of those around him. He gains friends, family, and lovers in each adventure, and his capacity for love grows with each film.
His wife, son, father, and friends become his greatest treasures, and they are always there, right in front of him.
While the necessity and motivations of a new Indiana Jones movie are debatable, the Dial of Destiny is the fitting end to the franchise and the character arc of its hero because it builds upon the themes of jihād, the three moral teachings inherent to the preceding films and, once again, moves Indy to grow in his capacity for belief, love, and a great many other things.
The Dial of Destiny’s Ending Completes the Lost, Unseen Character Arc of Its Hero
There are many opinions on the fifth and final film of the Indiana Jones franchise. I offer a few reflections on the film and then dive into the conclusion of our beloved hero’s journey and how it completes his real character arc from within.
Reflections on the Dial of Destiny: Preserving Indiana Jones (Spoiler Alerts!)
In his review of the Dial of Destiny, Brian Tallerico, the Managing Editor of RogerEbert.com, began his piece with a lament that spoke to me:
“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” is somehow both never boring and never really entertaining. It walks a line of modest interest in what’s going to happen next thanks to equal parts innovative story beats and the foundation of nostalgia that everyone brings to the theater. It’s an alternating series of frustrating choices, promising beats, and general goodwill for a legendary actor donning one of the most famous hats in movie history yet again. It should be better. It could have been worse. Both can be true. In an era of extreme online critical opinion, “The Dial of Destiny” is a hard movie to truly hate, which is nice. It’s also an Indiana Jones movie that's difficult to truly love, which makes this massive fan of the original trilogy a little sad.
That last sentence struck me: “It’s an Indiana Jones movie that's difficult to truly love, which makes this massive fan of the original trilogy a little sad.”
Those words perfectly capture how I felt after watching the Dial of Destiny for the first time. Perhaps you felt and still feel the same way.
If you are hoping for Tallerico to illuminate or, at the least, console the sadness many of us seem to share, you will be disappointed.
He concludes:
Spielberg reportedly gave James Mangold some advice when he passed the whip to the director, telling him, “It’s a movie that’s a trailer from beginning to end—always be moving.” Sure. Trailers are rarely boring. But they’re never as entertaining as a great movie.
Tallerico longs for another great Indiana Jones movie. He aches, but then the destined sigh of disappointment follows, much like the sighs from Sheldon and the gang.
“Trailers are rarely boring,” he says, “But they’re never as entertaining as a great movie.” I cannot agree more.
The Dial of Destiny is often stereotypical, but I prefer to think of it as ultimately archetypal.
It leaves much to be desired, like a trailer for a movie, but I suspect it is on purpose.
Disney’s description of the film encourages each of us to “relive all the adventures.” The Dial of Destiny is cruel in a way. It gives us everything we expect to find in an Indiana Jones movie.
It hits the right beats but never strikes the familiar chord of the preceding films. It leaves us wanting more of Indiana Jones in a movie that marks the conclusion of his adventures. It makes us sad, but our hero is easy to find if we look for him.
While the Dial of Destiny is considered a box office disappointment by many sources, including Fortune, Collider, Movieweb, Screen Rant, IndieWire, and Slash Film, it caused a surge of renewed interest in the adventures of Indiana Jones.
According to Whip Media’s latest movie ranker, the original three films of the franchise made the top ten most streamed movies the weekend of the film’s release in theaters.
My contributions to streaming the Indiana Jones movies might have skewed the data.
If the Dial of Destiny is indeed a “trailer” that is always moving, where or what is it moving toward?
Given our hero's recent revival among modern audiences, the simple, obvious answer is Indiana Jones.
Perhaps Spielberg meant what he said. Each film is a trailer moving everything, including us, the audience, toward the hero at its center. The Dial of Destiny is no different.
The fifth and final film is the question to which the preceding films are the answer.
We’ve been longing for another great Indiana Jones movie while knowing, deep down, that we can’t have one.
I suspect Spielberg, Mangold, and Ford share our longing. They wanted to give us another great Indiana Jones movie, but they knew, deep down, that they never could, so they didn’t try.
Spielberg and Mangold did not make a movie. They made a trailer. A very long, masterful trailer that leaves you longing not for it but all the things it purposefully refuses to give you.
It is a trailer, but it is so, so much more.
The Dial of Destiny is a deliberate choice, a sure silence that boldly states, “He belongs in a museum!”
It is a big, bold sign that you read along, pointing you to something or, more likely, someone.
In his interview with IndieWire, Mangold sheds light on the intentional, “wonderful” contradictions inherent to the Indiana Jones character:
“From the moment George first conceived of this character, it was built on so many wonderful character contradictions,” he said. “The bookish, nerdish character who was also an adventurer, almost like a Superman/Clark Kent relationship in his life, and he’s such an avid historian and secularist who believes in science, and is yet repeatedly confronted with miracles.”
The Dial of Destiny is a sign that reads:
“Come see the ‘wonderful’ contradiction! The bookish nerd and adventurer! The avid historian and secularist! The man who believes in the power of science and miracles! The man who is young and old! The man who can bleed forever and never die!
The legend you can hide but always find in the movies.
Lucas, Spielberg, and Mangold invite us to rediscover and explore the “wonderful” ironies and the inward journey of our beloved hero, Indiana Jones.
They give you everything you love about your childhood hero. Then they take it away, so we will look for it in the only place where he is preserved and protected for posterity—the preceding films of the franchise.
Does Indiana Jones Die in the Dial of Destiny?
No, but in a sense, yes. As the hero archetype, we ought to remember that Indy cannot die a literal death, but he undergoes a spiritual death.
An older Indy must come to terms with a world that no longer needs or wants him. It is a harsh reality sharply contrasted with the “young” Indiana Jones present in the film’s opening.
The elaborate opening action sequence attempts to re-capture or, at the least, remind us of our hero in his prime using a de-aged Indiana Jones fighting Nazis.
Mangold understood the daunting task of living up to his predecessor and filmmaking hero, Steven Spielberg. He demonstrated his exceptional talents when he masterfully brought the character arc of Logan, The Wolverine, to its end.
He is the ideal wizard for bringing the character of Indiana Jones to its conclusion in terms of style and story.
He and the VFX artists who helped him create the “X-24 Digital Double” in Logan prove that the Uncanny Valley is crossable even in motion.
It shocks most people to learn about the X-24 Digital Double, which alone proves the astounding feat they accomplished.
While technically impressive in many ways, de-aging Harrison Ford does not always hold up in motion despite being flawless in still shots.
Digital doubles and de-aging are very different magic tricks, and I suspect the former is somewhat easier.
Indiana Jones looks young, but we subconsciously remember that he is older as we hear the difference in Ford’s voice and no longer see the same spring in his step.
However, the heart and soul Ford brings in his performance as Indiana Jones remains the same.
The opening action sequence plays on nostalgia, and it inevitably fails to satisfy it. It is a familiar disappointment in the IP age, as Alissa Wilkinson so thoughtfully explains. It is the nature of nostalgia to leave us unsatisfied. It’s bittersweet.
Perhaps it is somewhat purposeful in a film that grapples with living in a brave new world that relegates the old and aging to history.
While subconsciously reminding us that Indy has grown old throughout the opening sequence, the scene that follows confronts us with its reality.
In his harsh criticism of the Dial of Destiny, “Killing Indiana Jones,” Stephen M. Klugewicz describes the scene well and summaries its connections to other important plot points throughout the film:
Mangold cuts from the end of the train sequence to a dumpy New York City apartment, where the Indy of 1969 has fallen asleep in his boxers while watching television. He’s a cranky, disheveled, old man now, the glint gone from his eye and the spring from his step. His son has died in Vietnam, his wife has separated from him as a result of their shared grief. Still a professor of archaeology, his students—who once adored him, as we saw in Raiders and Last Crusade—are now bored by him. We are (mis)treated to a lame retirement party thrown by his colleagues… It’s just ridiculous and depressing.
It is depressing, but it is not ridiculous. We find Indiana Jones lost in the cosmos.
Unlike all the preceding films, Indy is actually unsure of himself. He no longer knows who he is.
It is a necessary character development that leads to an “earned” ending that is “not farcical whatsoever,” as Boyd Holbrook, who plays Agent Klaber, describes in a recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter.
Klugewicz is right to observe that Indiana Jones has lost everything he loves and that such a reality for our hero is depressing. He has a deep understanding and respect for the character of Indiana Jones as he demonstrates in his wonderful piece, “Indiana Jones: American Epic Hero.”
Indiana Jones has lost everything, including himself, but Kulgewicz assumes their deprivation and absence are inextricably connected to “wokeism” and political “emasculation.”
The deprivation and absence of everything we love about Indiana Jones is indeed purposeful, and Kulewicz is not wrong or alone in his frustration nor his skepticism of Disney’s and much of Hollywood’s motivations when reviving popular franchises.
Our hero is different in the Dial of Destiny, but I suspect the meaning of the change has a much deeper and more primitive cause, namely time and history, as represented by the Antikythera.
Klugewicz ends his criticism of the film by noting that “this is the first Indiana Jones movie in which Indy never has a gun holstered on his belt—either his Smith & Wesson or his Webley revolver. What more telling indication could there be that the main hero of the series has been emasculated on the altar of political correctness?”
Perhaps Indy does not holster a gun because he has grown tired of fighting and killing.
Indiana Jones Has Grown Weary of Fighting
When Marion and Indy first reunite in the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, their conversation quickly descends into argumentation.
It is comedic, but it is also serious. They both claim to have good lives without each other, to which Marion replies, “Yeah? Are you still leaving a trail of human wreckage, or have you retired?”
The character of Marion sees Indy’s faults like nobody else because she knows and loves him more than everybody else.
She points out his blindness to the death and the carnage he causes without and within the lives of his friends, the true treasures he is meant to preserve.
Blood is often repaid in blood. Indy avoids paying the ultimate price for the death and carnage he causes, but his son does not when he goes off to fight in Vietnam.
Indy is reluctant to kill because he has grown to understand the true and real consequences of such a terrible act. Even Indy cannot escape the sins of his past on the day of his actual retirement from Hunter College.
When Agent Klaber and his evil goons start gunning down Indy’s friends and colleagues, he is distraught.
Instead of jumping into the fray, he attempts to call the police for help. In a Looper article, Tom Moore grapples with the “most confusing moments” in the Dial of Destiny, including its ending and Indy’s phone call to the police.
He observes that Indy’s unfinished call with the police “ends up making [him] a lead murder suspect.” A plot point that is never mentioned again nor resolved.
We ought to remember that the plot is entertaining, and we do not need to make sense of it to find it entertaining. After all, Indy’s reactions within are more interesting and profound.
A young Indy would have quickly moved on from the death of a companion as he is guilty of doing to his friend and sidekick, Wu Han, in the opening sequence to the Temple of Doom.
An old Indy is different in the Dial of Destiny. He hates death and killing.
Later in the film, we are introduced to Antonio Banderas as Renaldo, a sailor and old friend of Indiana Jones. He is murdered by Voller and his henchmen as Indy, Helena, and Teddy make their escape.
Helena is blinded by the excitement of their escape and cheers for joy. Indy responds, “My friend was just killed!”
The joy and excitement leave Helena’s face when she realizes her ambivalence to the death of another person.
Indy is older and wiser now. He wants no part of the death and killing anymore after everything it has taken from him. He does not carry a gun because he does not want to use it.
There is also the grim possibility that Indiana Jones wants to die.
Both can be true.
Death Can Seem Good When “Everything Hurts”
Time and history inevitably deprive us of the things we love most. Time relegates our hopes and dreams to history, even the ones we get to achieve and enjoy for a bit. If we are not too careful, they eventually take away who we are and who we want to be.
Good things rarely last in this strange world unless they are properly protected and preserved.
Our hero is lost and hurting in the Dial of Destiny, so much so that death seems preferable to life.
What does Indy have to live for in a world that no longer cares to know and remember his name?
But many people remember the name “Indiana Jones!” They are all there right in front of him, but they are difficult for him to see at first.
Helena Shaw, Indy’s goddaughter, remembers Indiana Jones, and she learns to admire him over the course of the film like many of Indy’s companions.
She saves Indy from his greatest temptation—the temptation to become one with history, Indy’s “true” love.
Dying to History: The Last Jihād of Indiana Jones
Despite the cruel nature of time and history, Indiana Jones loves them all the same.
History is Indy’s love, first and foremost, remember?
It is his life, and he risks his life to preserve it. Indy is willing to die for history, but he is willing to die to history in the Dial of Destiny. These are very different things. One far worse than the other. By becoming history, Indy is willing to erase himself from it, complete annihilation.
Wounded and crying, Indy begs Helena to leave him in the past so he can die in peace, comforted by the only thing left for him to love. History, however, is both a kind and cruel mistress.
Indy’s love for history is boundless, but history can never love him back. He has forgotten his true love, the only one he can love and be loved by in turn.
Indiana Jones is preparing to make a poor choice—the choice to give up hope.
In such moments of despair and tragedy, it takes a slap, a sure silence, or a punch to wake him up and remind him of who we is. Helena apologizes to Indy and knocks him out cold.
Our broken hero wakes up in the present in the comfort of his home and bed. His wounds are dressed, and a familiar face stares at him from across the room.
It is Marion, the true love he always needed and always will. Marion was always there from the beginning, but Indy could not see her yet. He was not ready to see her again.
Indy’s love of history is good, but it is not great. Only reciprocal love is great and true.
Indy approaches Marion with caution and shame. He is battered and bruised, weak and exposed. Marion sees his sorry state and smiles.
She offers only a question, “Does it hurt?”
Indy replies with relief, “Everything hurts.”
The chemistry between Harrison Ford and Karen Allen is undeniable as they reunite once again and recreate a wonderful scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Once again, Indy has learned the great lesson, the deep truth he always must learn.
It is the revelation that what you need is where you least expect to find it: right in front of you.
Even in his old age, Indiana Jones is learning new lessons and receiving precious gifts in return. He gains a love that is great and true. It is in love that Indy remembers who he is and where he belongs.
As Zac Wenzel observes in a recent piece for MovieWeb, “The MacGuffin in Dial of Destiny is.. [the] Archimedes Dial, or so it is for surface level story purposes. Having said that, what if I told you that [the] Archimedes Dial was not the MacGuffin of the film, but Indiana Jones himself.” I cannot agree more. In many ways, Indiana Jones is always the MacGuffin of his adventures.
While Indy is free to move and be moved by the incredible things he experiences from without, he must always choose to accept where those incredible things take him, the truths they reveal.
In the end, only Indy can choose to move himself from within, and we are happy to know that he chooses wisely.
The Dial of Destiny continues the themes of jihād and contains the three moral teachings that Indiana Jones must learn again and again. These lessons are not revealed by the artifact, but the man himself.
Indy’s last adventure is the deep, dark descent within, the terrifying journey that all archetypal heroes must go on and come back from.
The Dial of Destiny gives our hero such a journey and completes the real character arc of Indiana Jones.
The Future of the Indiana Jones Character
Indy’s development and fulfillment of the hero role progress throughout each film as his capacity for belief and love grow, but what are the “inner-emotional journeys of Indiana Jones” leading toward?
That is the ultimate question, and perhaps a question only we can answer for ourselves.
An Iconic Duo: Harrison Ford & Indiana Jones are Inseparable
There are many rumors and speculations about the future of the Indiana Jones franchise. Ford will never play Indiana Jones again. He has made that clear.
The Dial of Destiny preserves the legacy of Indiana Jones, and any efforts to revive the character do a disservice to it and all those that brought him to life for so many of us.
Resurrecting Indiana Jones ought to trouble us like Sallah when he realizes the Ark might be at Tanis. There are some things “that man was not meant to disturb.”
We ought to heed such a warning.
Those that know and work with Harrison Ford and Indiana Jones understand that the actor and the character are inextricably linked. They share a bond that is irreplicable.
It is sad when something great comes to an end, but we must remember that Indiana Jones cannot die. He lives in the movies!
In a sense, the character of Indiana Jones will always have new adventures in the future. He will never be done with us because we will never be done with him.
Are the Adventures of Indiana Jones Actually Over?
In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Mangold commented on the future of the character.
He said, “I don't think he'll ever stop digging. And when he takes the hat off the clothesline, I think it's because, first of all, you shouldn't put hats on clotheslines. And second of all, no, I don't think he's done. I think that an ending doesn't mean that the characters never move again in their lives. It just means that you feel that you've entered a state of grace with their story.”
Indiana Jones is nothing without his hat. They are inseparable.
On the rare occasions they are forcibly separated from each other, Indy’s hat magically finds its way back to him. They each must be free to move and be moved by what they encounter in their adventures, carried where they are needed by the winds of destiny.
Mangold breaks his own rule on purpose.
“You shouldn’t put hats on clotheslines,” unless you mean for someone to reach out and grab it.
We do not see who reaches out to grab Indy’s famous fedora, the source of his heroic power, off the clothesline, and we are not meant to know.
We cannot know everything, but we know it cannot be Harrison Ford.
Who is it, then?
The simple, obvious answer is us, the audience.
What Does the Indiana Jones Character Mean to Us?
The character of Indiana Jones has always been about you and me. Harrison Ford says that loud and clear to each of us.
Indiana Jones deeply moves us because he is us. He is a human being, flesh and blood, engaging in a great struggle without and within, and so are we.
Indiana Jones is a trailer to us! It is our heroic adventure too. The character of Indiana Jones asks the most important question you can ask another person.
What is your name?
The one you choose instead of the one you receive.
Throughout the many twists and turns of his incredible inward journey, Indiana Jones encourages us to find and choose the name that fits who we are and who we wish to become. We have all the clues except where to begin.
It only takes a “wonderful” bumbling fool, like Marcus Brody, to see the obvious truth. He is the character we least want to be but ought to emulate more.
In a scene from the Last Crusade, Brody sees what Indiana cannot in the scattered thoughts and torn pages in his father’s diary.
Brody looks in the diary because he knows, loves, and trusts Henry in a way that Indiana does not and cannot, at least not at that moment.
BRODY: Your father would know. Your father did know. Look. He made a map.
Unlike Indy, Brody is “wonderfully” foolish and penitent enough to assume that Henry would know and be able to help when hope seems lost.
Indiana Jones cannot make it out, even though the answer is right in front of him, because he does not want to know, love, and trust the wisdom of his father. He is not ready. He cannot be ready.
It is the timeless, beautiful adventure that leads its hero “there and back again.” You have to go on the adventure to understand what it was all about in the first place.
In our lowest moment of despair, our greatest moment of need, the Dial of Destiny punches us out of kindness because it knows how confused, frustrated, and lost we often feel, like Indiana Jones.
It knows how much we ache for something great without and within ourselves. We begin to see that there is someone who understands and cares.
We did not see her at first, but she was always there waiting for us to return where we began. Our Marion. Our true love. Right there in front of us.
Who is your Marion, your true love?
She asks us a question to which she knows the answer: “Does it hurt?”
“Everything hurts,” we say with joy and a smile because we are relieved that someone cares to ask.
Your cries of pain are heard. Your wounds and bruises are seen. Your tears are wiped away. All made better with the magic of a kiss.
It is the calm and quiet that cuts through all the catastrophe and noise that is happening everywhere around you and inside you. It gives you a chill.
It is the deep desire to hear your name, the name you chose, whispered in a loud, crowded room where nobody cares to know it. The worst, most real hell on earth you can imagine. A place where everything hurts and no one cares, but then someone calls out to us.
We turn our heads and, for a moment, we are pulled into the familiar eyes of a stranger who loves us: a lost lover, an orphaned child, an old friend, an estranged father. They say:
“Well, I know what I've got here. Come on. I'll buy you a drink. You know, a drink?”
“I love you. Wake up! You're my best friend! Wake up!"
“Give them hell, Indiana Jones!”
We look into their familiar eyes long enough to hear the words we always needed to hear: “Let it go.”
Lucas, Spielberg, Ford, and Mangold made themselves “wonderful” fools in completing the real character arc of Indiana Jones.
As Ford laconically states in Blade Runner 2049, the 2017 film that brought another one of his iconic characters back to the big screen, “Sometimes to love someone, you gotta be a stranger.”
In their final farewell to a beloved hero and franchise, Lucas, Spielberg, Ford, and Mangold love Indiana Jones by making themselves strangers to him so we can love him and, in turn, find something worth believing and loving without and within.
We are Indiana Jones. We always were. They are our Marcus Brody.
The Dial of Destiny is simply a question that starts a larger conversation.
We knew everything except where to begin, and the beginning is a name, your name.
It is the moral lesson, the deep truth that Indiana Jones must learn, and so must we.
“X Never, Ever Marks the Spot” because what you need is where you least expect to find: right in front of you.
The Question Only You Can Answer: What Did You Find?
I suddenly recall the end scene from the Last Crusade. It speaks to me after watching the Dial of Destiny. It asks me questions like a participant rather than an observer; a character in its story.
As I rewatch the preceding films in light of the Dial of Destiny, I notice its hero in a different light.
I am attentive to him for the first time. Like a student in his classroom, I now hang upon his every word and deed. That is when I noticed something.
He is looking at me.
Have you ever dared to wonder that whatever Indiana is looking at past and through the screen might be you?
He looks at you and offers only a question:
INDIANA JONES: And what did you find, kid?
CALEB: Me? Illumination.
If you dare to know, love, and trust our childhood hero, to move and be moved by him, perhaps he will speak to you too.
An Unmarked Letter Addressed to You: Parting Words of Gratitude
Thank you for reading and thinking about one of cinema's greatest heroes!
I spent a lot of time with Indiana Jones, and I encourage you to do the same.
I hope this long, winding journey we shared was tolerable at least and thought provoking at best.
I wish to express my gratitude to George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, James Mangold, and Harrison Ford for the unexpected and wonderful adventure they gave me and, more importantly, for sending me on a real adventure by exploring and writing about my childhood hero, Indiana Jones.
I also would like to thank my fellow cinephiles at Cinemantics. We share a love for movie magic. That’s something we are connected to for reasons beyond count. Like any great adventure, it never would have started without them, and it continues because of them. I am grateful to each of you.
I cannot forget my other close companions: my family and friends. Thank you for your patience, kindness, and, of course, questions. For caring to call me by my name in a world where it is easy to become lost. They bring me back to the beginning; they bring me home.
Finally, a deep and profound appreciation for my wife, Emily. My Marion. My true love. She is a love letter for me to read, a song for me to hear, a mysterious muse that calls my name. I wish to dedicate this work to her because she inspired it and encouraged me to see it through. She is my greatest adventure.
If you think the adventure ends with the Dial of Destiny, my only response is: Why?
I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for in the places you least expect them.
My fellow companions at Cinemantics and I will be here waiting for you to return from your journey.
Caring to listen to your adventures and the lessons they taught you.
You took an amazing leap from the Lion’s Head with this piece, buddy. You continue to prove your worth with every word you write. Your passion and thoughtfulness is incredible, and I’m so grateful for its presence in my life.