In 1984, Steven Spielberg unleashed hell on the children of the world. Okay, maybe I’m overselling, but let’s keep it real: even though it somehow emerged as a family favorite, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is seriously demented. I’d even go so far as to call it mean-spirited.
It’s one thing to turn back the clock and see nudity in a classy PG film from the 60s or 70s. It’s another thing entirely to gather the family together for a trip down memory lane courtesy of a rip-roaring 80s adventure yarn with the same rating, only to watch one seriously scary dude rip another seriously scared dude’s heart out of his chest.
Hell, what about that dinner scene? Spielberg showed zero chill, begging the question: what kind of action extravaganza pumps the brakes so our weary heroes can chow down on eyeball soup, wriggling snakes, gooey yet crunchy bugs, and some good old-fashioned chilled monkey brains*? It’s like my man wanted to offer up a brief tribute to Ruggero Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust for kids.
Before the film ends, we also get to see terrifying rituals that include human sacrifices, and there are also crocodiles chowing down on dispatched villains. However, at least this last bit is limited to innocuous quick cuts of snapping jaws with a lot of henchmen’s laundry in the frame.
That aside, the truth of the matter is that for much of its runtime, the tone of this movie is more in line with Alien than E.T.—and yet it still stands as an American classic.
And rightly so.
Yes, the rating is perplexing given much of the subject matter**. I do wonder if Spielberg was on a mission to give the youth of our world nightmares brimming with creepy-crawly desserts, voodoo dolls, and diabolical pagan priests. However, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is also a master class in escalating tension and a true blockbuster that delivers one massive spectacle after another.
The opening scene is a joy, with a shady deal in an exotic locale quickly giving way to absolute chaos. As characters battle it out while scrambling to secure diamonds and antidotes, it quickly becomes apparent that cinema greatness is on tap. The stunts only get bigger and better from there as the danger mounts and the stakes rise. Watching the rail car chase is still about as close as one can get to riding a roller coaster without leaving the couch. The big rope bridge climax is simply magnificent. This film starts hot and never throttles down on its way to a blistering finish.
Harrison Ford absolutely destroyed it, endowing Indy with a pitch-perfect blend of machismo and compassion. He injected his trademark wit into the proceedings and excelled in all of the action bits. Ford got into terrific shape for the picture, and this came along when he was absolutely on fire. His presence and delivery made it near impossible to nitpick his performances, and it is 100% impossible to imagine anyone else playing this particular role with the same dexterity and appeal. I’d say the same thing about Han Solo. Though he may be better known as a grumpy old dude these days, at his pinnacle, Harrison Ford was a tremendous performer. Spielberg even plunged his leading man headlong into the more sinister trappings of the piece, with one standout sequence revolving around our hero’s descent into darkness. Ford displayed true menace in this set piece, and though he seldom went there, it is evident that he could have played a heavy with the best of them. Of all the terrors Temple of Doom subjected me to as a youngster, perhaps this glimpse of Indiana Jones becoming a villain frightened me the most.
Spielberg’s soon-to-be wife, Kate Capshaw, was given a rather thankless role as a combination damsel-in-distress/audience stand-in. Basically, she spends most of the movie squealing in terror, trying not to barf, or becoming ensnared in some vile peril that requires our dogged hero to rescue her. While she did her best with it (and the film does open with a musical number that is a fabulous showcase for her talent), the role was light years from progressive and well beneath her. Critics were not kind to her work in Temple of Doom, though it’s clear to me that she was just doing her job—and doing it as well as she could. An intrepid child sidekick was given far more to do, and the incomparable Ke Huy Quan threatened to steal the show at several junctures.
Other key players include Amrish Puri, who was a terrible delight as the villainous Mola Ram, and a brief but potent appearance from Roy Chiao as the scheming Lao Che. For a bit of fun, Dan Aykroyd popped up for somewhere in the neighborhood of ten to fifteen seconds in a true “blink and you’ll miss it” cameo.
Is Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom the best film in this franchise? I think so, but I’m biased. Having said that, surely even those who prefer Raiders of the Lost Ark or The Last Crusade*** would acknowledge that this one is the most frantic****, if not the most suspenseful. And I think that’s because it is most assuredly the most disturbing entry in the series.
Honestly, it’s probably the most gruesome motion picture that Spielberg ever dropped on us, and he is the fellow responsible for Jaws and that masterpiece’s enduring legacy of scaring folks away from the beach. To view Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is to throw yourself at the mercy of a dazzling filmmaker at the peak of his powers. Not only that, but you do so for an artistic endeavor wherein this mad savant clearly sought to stretch the boundaries of just how far a mainstream adventure could go in the pursuit of white-knuckle excitement. Forty years after it first shocked and delighted audiences, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom remains a legit powerhouse of a motion picture, delivering thrills, chills, and a veritable buffet of ghastly dishes you would only order up in some hideous nightmare.
Bon appétit.
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Written by James Wayland
*Served in monkey heads fashioned into bowls, no less. Also, the totally disgusting dinner scene is an exposition dump. Future filmmakers take note: if you want to ensure no one loses interest while you bury the audience in crucial plot details, embed said dialogue in the grossest eating sequence you can dream up.
**This movie is often given at least partial credit for the birth of the PG-13 rating.
***If there are people out there who prefer Kingdom of the Crystal Skull or Dial of Destiny, we’re going to choose to ignore those poor misguided souls.
****Yeah, yeah, I should have gone with “intense” and not “frantic” here, but it’s a Harrison Ford piece, so . . .
