This month, we celebrate the monumental 40th and 35th anniversaries of Steven Spielberg’s Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, respectively. These two films are not just followups to Raiders of the Lost Ark but masterpieces that have stood the test of time.
No, seriously, you won’t find a better pair of sequels. Neither is perfect, but combined with Raiders, they form the perfect trilogy. And yes, Indiana Jones is a trilogy.
Here’s the ultimate question: Which of the Indiana Jones sequels is better? I decided to dip my cup in the holy waters and compare both films to determine which Indiana Jones sequel deserves to sit next to Spielberg’s classic original. Hopefully, I will choose wisely.
Prologue
Every Indiana Jones film features a lengthy prologue that drops the viewer right smack in the middle of an ongoing story. In Raiders, we catch up with Indy as he tracks the Chachapoyan Fertility Idol (yes, I had to look that up), bumps into his arch nemesis, runs from giant boulders, and eventually makes a daring escape on a plane. It’s the perfect opening.
Yet, Spielberg and George Lucas nearly top it with Temple of Doom’s spectacular, stunt-filled opening set in Shanghai 1935. After a lengthy musical number introducing us to Willie Scott (Kate Capshaw), we find our beleaguered hero donned in 007 garb negotiating with a crime boss named Lao Che (Roy Chiao) for a rare diamond. Indy inexplicably drinks poison, shit hits the fan, and a series of wild hijinks follows. We meet Short Round (Ke Huy Quan), enjoy a bizarre Dan Aykroyd cameo, board a plane, and then follow our heroes as they leap out of said plane on a raft that slides down a mountain and lands in a river. We’re winded before the film even starts, but the extended action sequence strikes the right balance between wacky and intense, preparing us for the adventure ahead. I love it.
Last Crusade goes for something a little lighter. Where Temple of Doom goes bonkers in terms of violence—Indy literally skewers a bad guy—the opening to the third chapter leans more on lighthearted comedy. Here, we travel back to Utah 1912 and find a young Indy (played by River Phoenix) trying to recover the Cross of Coronado from a gang of thieves. His “first adventure” lands him on a circus train where each cart adds to the pre-established Indy lore. He uses a whip to fend off a lion, has a horrible snake encounter that leads to his phobia, cuts his chin, and eventually gains his trademark hat.
More importantly, we see that Indy’s entire persona is based not on his father but on an unnamed treasure hunter, setting the stage for the complex father-son relationship between Ford and Sean Connery’s Henry Jones, Sr.
Also, that segue from young Indy to old Indy is absolute perfection.
VERDICT: Temple of Doom gets the nudge here out of sheer showmanship.
Quest
Again, neither Temple of Last Crusade top Raiders in terms of their plot/quests. How do you best the Ark of the Covenant, melting Nazis, and the power of God?
You really can’t.
In Temple of Doom, Spielberg doesn’t even try. The Sankara Stones are never fully explained and thus hard to care about. Indy seems more interested in fortune and glory than the actual artifact. While Spielberg tries to infuse the ancient stones with an aura of importance by tying them to a deadly cult that kidnaps children, we’re never entirely sure if the rock holds any significant value or if the Indian village is simply enduring a bit of misfortune brought upon by their wealthy overlords. As far as I can tell, the Sankara Stones can glow and get hot. Meh.
The Last Crusade keeps it more straightforward. Indy must find the Holy Grail or the cup that caught the blood of Jesus Christ during the crucifixion, which grants its owner eternal life. Adolf Hitler wants the cup for apparent reasons, leading to a globe-trotting race to achieve eternal glory. Simple.
More importantly, where the Temple of Doom relegates its action to one location (outside of the Shanghai sequence), the Last Crusade sends Indy to Venice, Austria, Berlin, Hatay, and the Al Khazneh at Petra, Jordan.
I also like how Spielberg and writer Jeffrey Boam tie the tale to Indy’s relationship with his father, ensuring more gravitas to accompany the obligatory chases and daring escapes.
VERDICT: Last Crusade by a mile.
Action
Spielberg approaches each sequel very differently. Temple of Doom tries to top Raiders of the Lost Ark in sheer extravagance. Spielberg shoves in as many chases, fight sequences, and set pieces as humanly possible to the point of exhaustion. The third act consists of a series of action beats that, while lavishly produced, don’t amount to anything beyond empty spectacle. As much as I love the mine cart chase, it could end any moment, and you wouldn’t miss anything plot-related. Temple of Doom runs out of story about 40 minutes in and tries to cover up this fact with incredible special effects.
Surprisingly, it still works. Temple of Doom’s third act is jaw-dropping, even by modern-day standards. Roger Ebert explained that “Steven Spielberg’s ‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom’ is one of the greatest Bruised Forearm Movies ever made. You know what a Bruised Forearm Movie is. That’s the kind of movie where your date is always grabbing your forearm in a viselike grip, as unbearable excitement unfolds on the screen. After the movie is over, you’ve had a great time but your arm is black-and-blue for a week.”
Still, Spielberg loses control of the production, resulting in a flurry of exciting but exhausting action beats more akin to 1941 than Raiders.
Spielberg took a different approach to Last Crusade, toning down the violence to favor something more profound. Indy still kicks ass—atop a tank, on speedboats, in a plane, and on a motorcycle—but the thrills are less extreme, goofier, and typically arrive hand in hand with a punchline.
For example, when Indy and his father escape on a motorcycle, Spielberg underlines the scene with more father/son tension. Henry Sr. is not impressed by his son’s violent antics, even pausing to check his stopwatch after Indy sends a Nazi skyrocketing off his bike. Again, the action and stunts are serviceable, but Spielberg focuses on the characters, resulting in a less ambitious but more heartfelt journey for our rugged hero.
For all its technical prowess, even the tank scene lacks the edge of, say, the truck chase in Raiders. The dramatic stakes are indeed high, particularly knowing that Henry is stuck inside the tank, necessitating a rescue from his son. Still, Spielberg never allows the sequence to cross into the same gritty territory as previous entries. A well-timed joke matches every hard-hit beat-for-beat.
That’s not a negative. Last Crusade does its thing incredibly well. Every gag and quirky character beat lands with remarkable precision. Indy’s third adventure is a well-polished epic made by a man who knows his shit. Spielberg may not reinvent the wheel here, but he flexes plenty of creative muscle.
VERDICT: Last Crusade’s action doesn’t wow in the same way as Temple of Doom’s, but the third entry has it where it counts, and that matters.
Villains
From the get-go, Spielberg lets audiences know Temple of Doom will be a different adventure. Lao Che and his minions prove formidable in a bite-sized cameo, and the various cult members Indy encounters give our hero plenty of bruises.
Still, no one beats Amrish Puri’s Mola Ram, a Thuggee priest who pulls hearts from chests and gleefully laughs while doing so. Adorned in a satanic headdress, this guy frightens long before he forces Indy to drink blood. He’s also tough as Hell to kill and maybe even supernatural.
The only downside to his character is that I’m not entirely sure what his objective is. He holds satanic ceremonies deep underground, controls high-ranking political leaders, and has a legion of stolen children looking for more Sankara Stones. I’ve seen this movie hundreds of times and honestly cannot tell you this man’s goal. He still looks cool doing whatever he’s doing, though.
Last Crusade’s trio of villains linger on the opposite end of the spectrum. Julian Glover’s Walter Donovan is as generic as they come, but at least his objectives are clear. He wants eternal life and has sold his soul to attain the Holy Grail. I only wish Donovan had a little more complexity. Does he believe in Hitler’s cause? Is he disgusted by his Nazis allies? Is he in love with Elsa? Is he a legit businessman caught up in a selfish quest? Does his wife know?
Elsa (Alison Doody) is a tad more complex, although her character arc consists of sleeping with the Joneses, betraying the Joneses, and then joining the Joneses for no apparent reason. No matter, Doody is beautiful and does what she can with the role, though a few more details might have put her in Marion’s territory.
Likewise, Ernst Vogel (Michael Byrne) is a stereotypical Nazi villain, but somehow he feels like one of Indy’s greatest foes. He’s ruthless, tough, and enjoys making people suffer. Spielberg regretted going back to the Nazis as villains, but in Indy’s cartoonish world of globe-trotting archaeology, few bad guys are more reliable.
VERDICT: Temple of Doom gets a slight nudge over Last Crusade, if only because Mola Ram is downright terrifying. He pulls out a man’s heart for Cripe’s sake, sets it on fire, laughs like a maniac, then breaks for lunch. Diabolical.
Side Characters
Indy’s adventures always seem to attract an absurd amount of sidekicks. In Raiders, our hero did most of the work alone, with occasional support from Marion and Sallah. By Last Crusade, he’s riding around with a damn posse consisting of his dad, Sallah, and Marcus Brody (Denholm Elliot). Elsa would’ve been there, too, had she survived.
Luckily, each of these guys carries a distinct personality that makes them more endearing than annoying. Sallah is far less helpful in Last Crusade than Raiders, but at least he secures camels for his brother-in-law. Marcus also contributes very little but supplies plenty of big laughs. “How does one get off this thing?”
Henry Jones works as the perfect foil to Indy’s absurd theatrics. Sean Connery turns in the performance of a lifetime and damn near steals the show. While occasionally silly, he’s also stern and intelligent. More pivotally, Henry loves his son, even if he doesn’t quite know how to show his feelings. The scene where he thinks he lost Indy after the tank chase is unexpectedly emotional and perfectly summarizes the entire film.
Elsa provides the perfect counter-counter to Marion and Willie. She’s intelligent and cunning, willing to betray her lover for a cause. While she has less to do after her betrayal, I appreciate her arc. Elsa isn’t a bad person, so much as a wayward soul on a misguided mission. After all her evil deeds, I still wanted her to ride off with Indy.
Still, do any of these folks compare with Short Round? Willie* might be annoying, but Short Round remains Indy’s best sidekick. Ke Huy Quan’s energetic performance keeps the picture afloat, inducing a healthy heart and soul into the darker moments. Plus, he kicks ass and saves the day, which is what a faithful sidekick does, right?
*I don’t find Willie annoying. I enjoy Capshaw’s performance. She’s the anti-Marion, a woman entirely out of her element and the audience surrogate, screaming at the wackiness on display. I’ve never understood the hate. She’s hilarious and sexy as Hell.
VERDICT: Temple of Doom wins the race because Short Round is so damned amazing. Henry Jones is right behind him, though.
Soundtrack
Finally, no Indy article would be complete without mentioning the legendary John Williams. After dazzling audiences with Raiders, he somehow tops himself with his work on Temple of Doom and Last Crusade—two very different scores that captivate in their respective way.
Temple of Doom is big, bold, and full of brassy action cues that notably differ from those in Raiders. Rather than provide a simple rehash, Williams contributes fresh new themes that perfectly capture the film’s free-wheeling adventurous spirit. Like the film, he also gets dark when necessary, composing large choir pieces for the Thuggee ceremony, always with a wink and nod at the extraordinary events occurring on screen. His “March for the Slave Children” is as stirring a piece as any he ever composed, and his use of the famous Indy theme never fails to impress.
The Last Crusade likewise features the same adventurous spirit but boasts warmer themes designed to underline Indy’s relationship with his father. Big set pieces like “Scherzo for Motorcycle and Orchestra” and “Belly of the Steel Beast” (along with “On the Tank”) provide the thrills, while tender moments like the scene above by the cliff allow for more emotional, heartwarming rhythms.
VERDICT: I’m sure a great many will disagree with me here, but I’ve always been more partial to Williams’ work on Last Crusade. It’s less reliant on the Indy theme and more diverse, resulting in a stirring listening experience, mainly if you pick up the expanded score.
Ookay, so we’ve got a tie. Maybe the ultimate tiebreaker comes down to Harrison Ford’s performance. Is he better in Temple of Doom or Last Crusade? Personally, I think he’s more iconic in Temple, but better in Last Crusade. On the latter point, he has more to do in the third chapter and pairs remarkably well with Sean Connery. The man is flawless through all three pictures, but his third go at Indy brings more nuance to the character, transforming him from an archetype to an actual human being.
So, it’s Last Crusade by a nose.
Seriously, can we all agree that Indiana Jones remains one of the all-time great trilogies? Many have issues with Temple of Doom’s darker palette and Last Crusade’s formulaic approach. Still, both pictures stand as unique works of art crafted by visionaries at different stages in their remarkable careers. On any given day, I can pop in Temple of Doom or Last Crusade, sit back, and let the good times roll.
Make no mistake, these are classic films, warts and all. Spielberg and Lucas were never going to top the novelty of Raiders of the Lost Ark, but they came closer to achieving the impossible than they had any right to.
After all these years, Indiana Jones still has it where it counts.
