Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

"I've got a lot of fond memories of that dog."

That's about the way I feel about the third Indiana Jones film, which I still consider to be the best of the four-film series. Recovering from the Temple of Doom debacle - a redeemable film, to be sure, but certainly less spectacular than its predecessor and successor - Steven Spielberg and George Lucas culled together this masterpiece, one of the best of Spielberg's and arguably THE best complete film of Lucas's (I exclude the Irvin Kershner-directed The Empire Strikes Back from contention on the basis of its incomplete cliffhanger ending).

I almost feel like plot synopsis is irrelevant here, since this movie is pop culture history only 19 years after its premiere. Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, in his defining role, perhaps even more so than as Han Solo) is contracted by antiquities collector Walter Donovan (Julian Glover, who is the only actor holding the distinction of playing in the Star Wars, Indiana Jones, James Bond, and Harry Potter series [and a Woody Allen movie, to boot] - talk about cultural monopoly!) to recover the Holy Grail, the cup from which Christ drank at the Last Supper. Perhaps a more immediate motive for Indy is the disappearance of his father (the always marvelous Sean Connery), who was also hot on the Grail trail when he went missing. Of course, the Nazis are after the Grail, as well, so it's literally a race to the finish.

I have the same gripe here that I had about Raiders of the Lost Ark - that I remember it too damn well. This is, again, more my fault than the movie's, but here I've been able to discern a key factor in the movie's memorability factor - a script apparently predominantly written by an uncredited Tom Stoppard, who's been called the modern Shakespeare, and perhaps not without good reason - recall he's the author behind John Madden's 1998 Shakespeare in Love (no, not THAT John Madden). The writing of this film is pitch-perfect, one of the funniest action movies I've seen (take that, Pirates of the Caribbean).

The acting is phenomenal, with every member of the cast deftly moving between slapstick comedy and subdued scenes of dramatic dialogue. The action scenes are spot-on, as well, directed brilliantly by Spielberg with just the right amount of levity to prevent a heart attack. And the return to Nazis and Judeo-Christian artifacts is one well appreciated in light of the more mystical Kali cult and Sankara Stones.

Like I said, I'm having a tough time reviewing a movie that I've seen dozens of times and love to death. I feel obligated to include this movie on my short list of "Perfect Movies" and also feel obligated to share that list at some point. The trouble is I have too many fond memories to look at this movie with any degree of objectivity. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, because seeing this movie again with an older eye proved to be two of the best hours I've had this month.