I cannot remember which Indy movie I saw first but Temple of Doom is the one I remember the most.
That being said, I do not think I have watched it in 20 years.
If Raiders was all narrative muscle and sinew, Temple of Doom is all confidence.
The opening scenes - ironically using left overs from early drafts of Raiders - feel like filmmakers flexing.
We start with a fun fake-out with the Paramount logo which leads into a musical number.
We then get the finale to a previous adventure as Indy gets poisoned, meets his new love interest, and gets into a massive fight-to-car chase.
It is all fun, topped with tips of the hat to Bond (Jones’ white tux).
Set a year before Raiders, Jones is presented as slightly more mercenary than his initial appearance.
While one could call it a prequel, it does not matter. This is the franchise wiping the slate clean and re-setting the table for a new adventure.
Poor Kate Capshaw is stuck with the horrifically written Willie Scott.
She is not as annoying as I remember, but the attempt at a romance is turgid.
It is hard not to read this role as a reflection of the filmmakers’ own personal struggles (both Spielberg and Lucas got divorced during pre-production).
Thank the maker for Ke Huy Quan as Short Round - his spontaneous, earnest performance is the freshest element of the movie.
Having a child as Indiana Jones’s key ally adds such a unique dynamic and stakes. It also gives the movie a much needed sense of levity: the scene where he plays cards with Indy; the moment where he mimics Ford while they are eating at the village.
The one moment of pathos in the movie belongs to him - after a possessed Indy slaps him, Short Round tearfully tells his friend he loves him and then burns him with a torch.
If Raiders felt like it was taking the elements from its influences and elevating them, Temple of Doom feels like a homage without a twist.
While this should take place at the same time as Raiders, it feels like a step back in time.
The Thuggee cult and the British soldiers who come to the rescue at the end are played totally straight. Indiana Jones is the perfect example of a white saviour. And Willie Scott comes across as the kind of helpless damsel in distress that Marion Ravenwood was a response to.
Some criticise the film’s darkness and the violence - I find it weirdly enjoyable. One of the films that led to the creation of the PG-13 rating, Temple of Doom has an atmosphere unto itself.
There is also a glee to its obsession with being as violent and gross as possible. It almost feels like Spielberg is exorcising the last of the darkly comedic energy that had underpinned his earlier films before shifting fully into the next phase of his career as a would-be ‘prestige’ filmmaker with The Colour Purple and Empire of the Sun.
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