I stood outside for two hours in the rain, on line, in my soaked-through sneakers, standing under an umbrella, the use of which I find morally abhorrent (I'm a noir girl, damn it), that I had to buy, all in the abysmal area of Manhattan known as Kips Bay, which is the island's closest answer to a suburb. I don't like standing on lines, I don't like being wet, I don't like standing for two hours, I HATE umbrellas, and Kips Bay is lame. What does this prove?
Answer: People will do anything for Indiana Jones.
My friend Jenni got advance passes to see the movie two days before its official release on May 22nd. I don't know how she got them, but I feel like it may have something to do with her job in advertising (She went to a New York Times sponsored event the other day, and occasionally has a new bag, courtsey of various clients. I wish was fancy, but alas, I am not.). In any regard, she got them, passed them off to me, and I headed over through the pouring rain to grab us spaces in line. And was it worth it?
You bet your ass it was.
I won't talk about the plot of the movie (there's probably some secrecy clause I'm entitled to uphold, although I signed nothing), but let's say that while it went a direction I wasn't expecting, it did the legacy proud. And there were a lot of nod-backs to the first three films, which allthe fans will Love. And Marion Ravenwood, the best Indy girl EVER, was in it, and I can't ever complain about that. (Apparently, Karen Allen actually teaches yoga and designs knitwear. Both make her even more amazing.) I also think it was a nice close to Indy's story, and even after all these years, he will always be the first man in my heart.
Or maybe second to Han Solo.
Damn it. Who could choose between them?!
No, okay, Indy.
Damn it. We'll save that debate for another time.
But seriously: check this out.