This weekend at the Music Box Theatre I was treated to a new 35mm print of Raiders of the Lost Ark, which is, along with Jaws, my favorite Spielberg film. Sure, he directed more accomplished, more thought provoking films than this, but I always preferred Spielberg when he approached his material with the reckless joy of a child. After all, I stand by that commonly shared criticism of his work – that he has a tendency toward overlong story arcs and contrived happy endings. That’s why I enjoy Raiders of the Lost Ark so thoroughly because it doesn’t attempt anything lofty, but instead accepts its own hollow design and moves forward confidently despite it.

Arguably, what Spielberg has always been the master of is elaborately tense action sequences and this film perfectly encapsulates that style. In the hands of any other director the film would be too wildly absurd to work because, let’s face it; it’s a pretty ridiculous story – a college professor who moonlights as a James Bond-esque archeologist. Don’t get me wrong, I still consider it brilliant beyond comparison, but for what it is – a shallow action film with superb special effects, witty, terse dialogue and vivid, spacious environments.

However, being that I’ve seen it so many times, this time around I began to take notice of some of those inconsistencies one tends to overlook in light of the break-neck pace at which it is delivered. I took the liberty of cataloging some of the more curious circumstance that Indy gets himself into for your consideration:

• Near the beginning of the film when Indy evades a group of nasty tribesmen, he must swim to the plane that shall fly him to safety. While doing this the tribesmen stand at the banks of the river and blow and/or shoot poison arrows at him. Given that this serves as their main form of combat, I’d imagine they’ve honed their skills to an exact science by now. Yet, even with fifty or so natives standing a mere 10 yards from their slow-moving target, not a single dart manages to hit its mark.
• After being sealed within the Well of Souls along with Marion, Indy’s fate appears to be sealed as well. Yet, in a valiant effort, he manages to push down a monstrous stone idol that comes crashing down through a fragile wall, thus facilitating their hasty escape. Now, although the statue is thousands of years old, and certainly quite fragile, I maintain that a single man, simply bracing himself against a wall and kicking with his feet would not be able to topple something so mighty. Nevertheless, even after they smash through the wall, he still manages to later push a large granite stone from its resting place where it impedes their progress as if it were merely made of Styrofoam. Pretty damn impressive.
• After successfully eluding the Nazis when they board Katanga’s freighter ship upon which Indiana attempted to abscond with the Ark, he manages to stowaway on the deck of the German U-boat containing both Marion and the Ark. He rides this ship all the way to its destination, without ever being granted access to its interior. The only indication we receive of his journey is a map with a little red line traveling across it superimposed over routine activities onboard the ship. What if it had submerged? Would he have held his breath? For how long? The trip likely took some time. What did he do to pass the time? Don’t they have any way of detecting an unwanted visitor just hanging out on the deck of the ship or is Nazi security really that negligent? Speaking of which, how did he eventually hide from the docking crew when the ship did reach its destination?
• The end of the film demonstrates the most glaring example of a Deus ex Machina in that it’s literally divine intervention – not Indiana’s quick thinking – that saves the day. Had Spielberg or, for that matter, George Lucas adopted a more cynical atheistic approach to the screenplay, how would he have escaped from that final scene? Granted, it’s a damn entertaining scene, but it violates a tried and true rule of narratives that dictates that the main character must retain an active, not passive, position within the story’s events. Then again, Indiana spent most of the movie playing the active role in the plot; we can forgive him if he leaves this transgression to be sorted out between the Nazis and God.
• Most troubling of all is that he still apparently teaches a class at the University throughout all these adventures – a class I might add that, as far as I’m aware, is currently in session. Clearly he has tenure and a multitude of TA’s who probably do the lion’s share of the work for him, unless he somehow managed to travel to Tibet and Egypt, uncover the Ark of the Covenant in a clandestine archeological dig, battle with Nazis, and make it back to teach a class all in the course of a single weekend. Maybe it was Spring Break. Either way, I’m sure he’s leading the faculty in sick leave.

Of course, none of these questions are meant to criticize the film, nor do they serve us as in any way relevant to the overall enjoyment of such a goofy, brilliant film. In fact, part of the film’s success rests upon the way it glosses over much of the trivial details in favor of entertaining action. I maintain that unless you’re Pauline Kael, chances are you’ll be entertained by the film’s heedless zeal.

But Raiders of the Ark isn’t the only film pleasantly re-released this year. In keeping with the Music Box’s string of phenomenal re-releases – which includes cinema’s own hidden artifact Army of Shadows – the theater will be screening a new print of Terrence Malick’s sublime Days of Heaven next week. Anyone in the Chicago area who hasn’t yet had a chance to see this masterpiece should definitely check it out. Maybe you’ll even have the privilege of seeing me there.