#meg rewatches indiana jones

[redhatmeg]

I love this switch of attitude when Marion tells Indy who Mutt is.

Indiana Jones: Mutt is a good kid. Don't pester him about the school.

Marion: His name is actually Henry Jones the Third. He's your son.

Indiana: WHY DIDN'T YOU INSIST ON HIM FINISHING THE SCHOOL?!

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 7/13

The slow burn continues to simmer in this chapter as Emma and Killian settle into a routine, and Anna’s wedding planning forces them to figure out “their song.”

This is first and foremost a gift for @spartanguard​, and this chapter includes several little touches just for her!

As I wrote this, I tried to imagine what kind of music best suits Emma’s and Killian’s personalities. So, don’t take offense at some of their musical opinions - I made digs at music even I like! And fyi, if you go on YouTube to search for wedding songs, this is pretty much what will happen (minus the hot guy to dance with you, of course).

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it could also mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​ .

Rating: M

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @kmomof4​​ @let-it-raines​​ @teamhook​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @shireness-says​​ @stahlop​​ @scientificapricot​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @kday426​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @nikkiemms​​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @carpedzem​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @branlovestowrite​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @winterbaby89​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​ @jennjenn615​​​ @snidgetsafan​

Emma and Killian both had thought that life would slow down once they were back from the honeymoon, and it most ways, it had. The past week they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Killian woke first, tidied up the sofa where he had slept, then went for a run with Smee at his heels. While he was gone, Emma woke, made the coffee, and filled Smee’s bowl with kibble. Emma had her run on the treadmill while Killian showered, then he made breakfast while she showered. This kept Emma from leaving dirty knives poised on the edge of the sink, and gave Killian an opportunity to put her half-finished coffee in a travel mug.

Emma then raced out the door after snatching her breakfast out of Killian’s waiting hands. She was always running late for her 9 am appointment. Killian had yet to figure out why she didn’t schedule her first one later in the day. As for himself, he lingered over his breakfast so he could read a bit before heading into work.

Her book - he was reading her book.

Emma had seen it in various places around the house - on the coffee table, beside Killian’s morning coffee, and on the patio table. She wanted to ask him what he thought, yet at the same time she feared what his opinion would be. Men didn’t normally read her book, after all. Except for that one pompous windbag who only read it so he could skewer it. She couldn’t see Killian eviscerating her like that jerk had, but she also knew he would be honest. That tiny voice of doubt always at the back of her mind kept whispering that he hated every word she’d written. So she remained silent. She did note, however, that his book mark kept moving deeper into its pages.

At work, things went on pretty much as they were before, with one exception. Even though the paparazzi hadn’t followed them to Storybrooke, they still couldn’t let down their guard. The town had to believe they were a couple too, and Emma still had to keep up pretenses on her social media. For that reason, Emma made her way into his workshop at twelve each day asking what he wanted to do for lunch. Some days they walked over to Granny’s to grab a bite together (hand in hand or arm in arm - for appearances sake), while other days Killian was busy on a project and Emma brought lunch back for him. Their “work lunches” had already appeared on Instagram.

They didn’t always leave for home at the same time. It depended on Emma’s schedule and how engrossed Killian was in his current project (he had a bad habit of losing track of time). Yet Killian always insisted on cooking dinner for them both, and no matter what work had been like, they were seated at the kitchen table with a home cooked meal at seven pm every night. After that, they’d plop down on the couch and find something to watch on Netflix. Right now they were doing a rewatch of Parks & Rec.

It had honestly been the most steady, domestic week of Emma’s life. She would never admit it to anyone, especially not to Killian, but she loved it.

Unfortunately, there was one thorn in both their sides, and her name was Anna. They really should have looked closer at the calendar when they had suggested July 4th for the family ceremony.

It was Thursday night, and their enjoyment of the shenanigans in Pawnee, Indiana, was interrupted by a light tapping on the back door. They both groaned as Emma pressed a throw pillow to her face.

“I guess we can’t ignore her?” Killian asked half-jokingly as he paused the show.

Emma whacked him with the pillow. “You’re the one who started the habit of your family coming to your back door. Who does that?”

Or maybe lots of families did that - Emma really wouldn’t know.

Killian sighed again, his head dropping onto the back of the sofa. “Come in,” he called out.

“There’s really only one more thing I need to ask you two,” Anna said without preamble as she rushed through the door. “Sparklers - yes or no? Because I think they’re romantic, but Kristoff says they’re for kids, and Liam said they’re cliche, and Elsa worried we’d burn our fingers, which if you think about it, kind of contradicts what Kristoff said because if kids use them, I’m pretty sure we can handle them without burning ourselves.”

Anna finally ran out of words, and just stood there in front of them expectantly. Emma was rendered speechless, wondering how Anna hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen, and Killian simply looked confused.

“Sparklers for what?” he finally asked.

“The wedding,” Anna clarified with a roll of her eyes.

“You know, babe,” Emma teased, poking him in the leg, “the reason she’s popped over here every single night?”

Killian rubbed his jaw, and Emma noted the bags under his eyes and frowned. For the first time, she wondered how well he was sleeping out here on the couch.

“Aye, our small, family ceremony.” He looked at Anna pointedly as he emphasized the words.

“It will be,” she insisted, punching Killian in the arm. “It’s just going to be the six of us. Now, what’s your song?”

She had a literal binder opened on her lap. It was so large, her pregnant belly was about to send it sliding to the floor. Her gaze was on them expectantly, a pen poised over the binder.

Emma glanced at Killian. “Ummm . . . we don’t really have one?” She shrugged.

Anna’s shoulders slumped and her lips turned down into a frown as if Emma had just insulted her personally. “How can you not have a song?”

“It’s not a requirement, A,” Killian pointed out.

“But . . . but . . . you had a first dance at your big fancy wedding. I saw pictures of it on the internet. What did you dance to?”

“Don’t use that,” Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. Anna frowned.

“It was just some generic song the DJ picked out,” Killian explained hurriedly. “We didn’t like it, actually.” He turned to Emma with a grin. “Remember how we laughed about that song?”

Emma’s chuckle was genuine. “We sure did.”

“Oh, well that’s disappointing . . .” Anna trailed off, slumping against the sofa. Emma was really expecting the binder to hit the floor now.

“I tell you what,” Killian encouraged her, “Emma and I will pick out a song, ok?”

“You can’t just pick out a song!” Anna argued, and Emma was startled as tears welled in the redhead’s eyes. “It has to be meaningful!” She dashed at her tears in frustration. “I’m sorry it’s these stupid pregnancy hormones.”

Killian moved to sit next to Anna and put his arm around her. “Don’t worry, A. It’ll be meaningful. I promise.”

“By tomorrow?”

“By tomorrow.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “And it won’t be generic?”

Killian put his hand to his heart. “I promise we will find something meaningful to our relationship.”

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she chuckled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“No you’re not,” Emma assured her, “it’s really sweet of you to put all this together.”

Anna gave her a watery smile, then started trying to hoist herself to her feet. Killian rushed to help her, then she gathered her binder and headed for the back door.

“Oh, and Anna,” Emma called out after her.

“Yeah?” Anna asked as she turned back around.

“Yes to the sparklers.”

Anna’s answering grin was almost worth the nightly interruptions. Almost.

“Okay, Swan,” Killian exclaimed as soon as the door shut behind Anna. “We’ve got some work to do.”

“The song?” Emma was incredulous. “You’re not serious!”

“As a heart attack. You heard her. She wants something meaningful. Don’t you think it will arouse suspicions if we pick, like . . . ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ or something?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Why would that be suspicious?”

“Because that’s in practically every rom com ever made.”

Emma snorted through her nose. “I never took you for the rom com type.”

He smirked at her. “I have many facets, love.”

Emma shook her head and couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Okay, romance expert, how in the world do we pick a song? There are literally millions of love songs.”

“Well,” Killian replied, plopping down on the couch next to her and taking the remote, “I bet there’s a wedding dance playlist on YouTube. We’ll start there.”

He scrolled through the menu on their smart tv as Emma lounged against the back of the couch and studied him. “I’m still trying to imagine you watching . . . say . . . You’ve Got Mail or something.”

“Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are legends, darling,” he countered smoothly, still concentrating on the tv.

“Okay, I guess, but what about . . . While You Were Sleeping?”

“Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman? What’s not to love?” He winked at her. “Okay, Emma, here we have top 100 wedding dance songs.”

“100!”

He waved his hand at her dismissively. “I’m sure half of them we can rule out rather quickly.”

“You mean the super cheesy ones?”

“Precisely.” He narrowed his eyes as he pulled up the playlist, and Emma couldn’t stop the fleeting thought that he was cute like this - his eyes all crinkled at the corners and his brow furrowed. “Okay, we’ve got Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake -”

“No, and no.”

“Okay, The Chainsmokers -”

“You can not be serious.”

“Whip/Nae Nae?!?”

“You must have the wrong list,” Emma told him, snatching the remote out of his hands. “That must be stuff to play at a wedding to get people to dance.”

“Ah, you’re right. Try first dance.”

“Wedding . . . “ Emma murmured as she used the arrow keys to choose the letters, “dang it, Killian, you really need to get one of those voice activated tvs.” She glanced over at him to see him grinning at her. “What?”

“You stick your tongue out a bit when you’re concentrating,” he told her, gesturing towards her lips, “it’s cute.”

Emma glowered at him, but felt her cheeks heat all the same. She forced her gaze back on the tv. “Okay, let’s see . . . First Dance - Wedding Suggestions or Most Popular Wedding First Dance Songs. Both have 117 videos.”

Killian shrugged. “Just pull up the first one.”

“Ed Sheeran,” they both read at the same time, then glanced at each other. Simultaneously they both burst out laughing.

“I’m hoping that’s a no?” Killian asked her tentatively.

“Of course it’s a no! Ed Sheeran screams generic.”

“You know, darling, maybe we’ve put the cart before the horse.”

“Okay, old man, what the hell does that mean?”

“Well,” he replied, smoothly overlooking her jab, “what kind of music do you like?”

Emma scrunched up her nose and tapped on her chin. Killian thought once again that she looked adorable, but he didn’t say so. “Ummm . . . I guess more rock than pop. Definitely no country. And don’t laugh but . . . I like punk.”

A slow grin spread across Killian’s face. “Love, I feel we are a match made in heaven.” When Emma’s jaw dropped, he sputtered and scratched behind his ear. “Uh, I meant musically speaking.”

“Riiight,” Emma said, nodding slowly. “Oh, and no power ballads. She rolled her eyes. I don’t think I can listen to an 80s hair band again after Walsh.”

Killian chuckled. “Okay then, let’s just scroll through these with all of that in mind, shall we?”

It wasn’t easy. Most were either pop or country, and the classics like Etta James “At Last” felt too cliched. A few had them chuckling. Who the bloody hell would dance to Dave Matthews Band. Do they have any idea what Crash into Me is about? And Killian played REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight this Feeling” just so he could dramatically sing it to Emma until she collapsed laughing on the couch.

“Wait!” Emma called out finally, clutching his wrist where he held the remote. “That one? Maybe?”

“This one?”

“Yeah - you think?”

He grinned at her as he rose from the couch and offered her his hand. Emma’s brow

furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m asking you to dance.”

She rolled her eyes. “We did that already, remember?”

Killian arched both brows at her. “But that was Walsh’s cheesy power ballad about sex, remember? Anna wants us to pick a meaningful song, and we can’t do that if we don’t get the full affect.”

Emma battled the smile that teased her lips and lost. “Okay,” she said, putting her hand in his. Her traitorous cheeks blushed as he pulled her up and close to him. He pushed the play button, and Paul McCartney’s voice filled the small house.

Maybe I’m amazed by the way you love me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you.

For some reason, dancing with Killian now felt even more nerve-wracking than it had at the wedding. She stared down at their shuffling feet, inexplicably terrified to look into his eyes. His very pretty, blue, expressive eyes that she swore sometimes could see right through her.

Maybe I’m amazed at the way you pulled me out of time. Hung me on a line. Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you.

“Well, the lyrics are definitely meaningful,” Killian chuckled awkwardly. “A won’t be able to argue that point.”

Baby I’m a man and maybe I’m a lonely man who’s in the middle of something that he doesn’t really understand.

Inwardly, Killian was cursing Paul McCartney as the lyrics hit like barbs. He realized he had tightened his grip on Emma’s waist, but she didn’t flinch away. He cleared his throat nervously, then almost choked when Emma’s green eyes met his. She’d had them glued to her feet until this very moment.

Baby I’m a man and baby you’re the only woman who could ever help me. Baby won’t you help me understand?

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I mean, it is Paul McCartney.”

“Uh huh,” Killian winced at how utterly idiotic he sounded. What was this conversation about, again?

Blessedly, the song went into an instrumental break. They continued to shuffle their feet across the living room carpet, but his grip relaxed, and so did Emma’s shoulders.

“So . . . “ she said tentatively, biting on her lower lip, “I saw you were reading my book.”

 “I am.”

Emma tilted her head. “So . . . what do you think?”

Killian pressed his lips together and gazed over her shoulder, collecting his thoughts. “I think you give women very good advice on how to be smart while dating. I also like how you draw a line in the sand, telling women they should never have to change who they are to keep a man. I feel like so much dating advice is really telling people to put on an act, and that’s just garbage. I think your book empowers women to cut off bad relationships.”

Emma nodded, impressed. Those were usually the things in her book that got her hate mail from irate ex-boyfriends.

“Do I sense a but after that praise?”

Killian let out a long sigh, then looked her directly in the eye with such intensity that Emma couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. “But, the chart that’s in there? The one that will show you if someone is compatible with you?” He shook his head, and Emma swore his arm snaked farther around her waist, pulling her just a hair closer. His head bent closer to hers, and his voice dropped an octave. “Love can’t be quantified and measured like that, Swan. It defies logic. It takes everything you thought you knew and obliterates it. When it’s real, you can’t tell where you end and the other person begins. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and comforting all at once. When you love someone, you don’t need a chart. When you love someone - really love them - you just know.”

Baby, I’m amazed at the way you’re with me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I leave you.

There was no mistaking it now, Killian had pulled her closer, his hand splayed across her back. Emma pressed her face to his collarbone, relieved that she was no longer looking into his piercing eyes. Killian pressed his lips against her hair.

“I haven’t offended you, have I?”

“No,” Emma managed to choke out, “I appreciate your honest opinion . . . “

“But?” he prompted with a chuckle.

“But your romantic views are exactly what gets people into trouble. That’s why I suggest people analyze the person before feelings get involved.”

Paul McCartney’s voice trailed off, the final strains of the music died, and a YouTube ad for Facebook Messenger started to play. Killian lifted his head and pulled back a step. Emma looked into his eyes once again.

“What if it’s too late?”

“My book says to fill out the chart after the first date, Jones.”

“What if it doesn’t happen the traditional way?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What if love sneaks up on you?”

Emma swallowed and took a step back. His arm fell away from her waist, and she shivered.

“I think Paul McCartney will work, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Aye, Swan.”

Suddenly, Kelly Clarkson’s voice filled the room as the first strands of “A Moment Like This” played, and they both burst out laughing. It broke the tension, thankfully, and Emma plopped back down on the couch and snatched up the remote. She started flipping through the songs in the playlist again, just in case. Killian sat down next to her.

“So,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “you said we’re a match made in heaven music wise. You share my tastes?”

He shrugged. “Mostly. I’m rock more than pop too, though I don’t discount it entirely. I mean, The Beatles are technically pop.”

“True,” Emma conceded, “and then there’s Michael Jackson.”

“Exactly! And, I’d go less for punk and more for alternative.”

“Let me guess. Pearl Jam? Nirvana?”

“Naturally. And Goo Goo Dolls, Smashing Pumpkins, Barenaked Ladies -”

“Wait, wait, wait. Barenaked Ladies are not alternative. They are one hundred percent pop.”

Killian gasped. “Pop, no way! The lyrics are way too tongue in cheek.”

Emma stuck her lip out stubbornly. “They are pop, Jones! Maybe veering a little towards punk -”

“Absolutely not, they are not punk at all!” Emma rolled her eyes as Killian snatched his phone off the coffee table. “I’ll prove it! Hey Google, what genre of music are The Barenaked Ladies?”

“The Barenaked Ladies,” his phone replied in that emotionless robotic voice, “are a Canadian alternative rock band formed in Ontario in -”

“Ha!” Killian crowed in triumph as Emma scowled.

“Where did Google get that info, Wikipedia?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Swan,” he teased, and then his eyes brightened. “You know, I may have an even better song for us.” He took the remote from Emma and tediously typed something into the search bar.

When Emma saw what it was, she cried out in protestation. “That can not be our song!”

“Why not? It’s the style of music we both like.” He gave her a faux-innocent pout.

“Alternative Girlfriend?”

Killian shrugged then winked at her cheekily. “Well, there’s no song called Alternative Wife.”

Emma smacked him in the chest. He hit play on the YouTube video and then began crooning the song to her.

“You’re in an all-girl band, your futon is second-hand -”

“Yeah, Jones, this screams wedding song.”

“I have a job in a shop - see, that’s me!”

“Sure it is.”

Killian kept singing as he yanked her to her feet and swung her around the room. “You’re my alternative girlfriend. I love you and now you cannot pretend. There’s nothing left that won’t cross over.”

Emma laughed as he spun her out and back in again and she collided with his chest. “I’m pretty sure by alternative girlfriend they mean the alternative rock lifestyle.”

“No way, they mean a girl you date - or marry - because she’s in a pickle. For pretend.”

“Did you just basically say that I’m in a pickle?”

“Aye, Swan, a dill pickle because those are the only kind.”

Emma was laughing so hard now, her sides ached. They ended up staying up until two in the morning sharing music on YouTube. Some that were their favorites, some that they loved to make fun of, and others they were ashamed to admit they liked in their younger days.

And even though they had decided on it hours earlier, they texted Anna a little after two am to tell her that “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney was officially their song. They figured it served her right.

[gh0stfacer]

Name 5 of your favorite movies and why you like them

I am gonna forego my mainstream faves, bc who tf doesn’t love things like LOTR, Jurassic Park, Star Wars, Indiana Jones etc; and go for my really-mildly obscure favesSnowpiercer is phenomenal and so underrated in its scope of notoriety, despite staring Chris Evans with a hot beard. It’s an incredible story, with some of the best cinematography and visceral imagery I have seen in a movie in a long long time. The moral and the plot is more relevant to our times than ever, and nothing makes me happier than a film or book that subverts cliched tropes and plots and has anything but a predictable ending.

Predestination DO NOT SPOIL YOURSELF BEFORE WATCHING THIS FILM. This movie is wild. Fucking wild. I love it because it’s just so unapologetically fantastically freaky. It’s a slow burn that once it finally hits you and all the pieces come together you’re already gaping-jawed and whispering fuck to yourself, and then you get juked and shocked again. Please do yourself a favor and enjoy this film.Seven Psychopaths  No film list of mine is complete without a Martin McDonagh film on it, and though I love all of his, this one is my favorite simply because it’s so darkly comedic and so outrageously unique. The cast is on point at all turns (even Woody Harrelson) and I have rewatched it so. so. so. MANY times. 

Signs By far my favorite Shyamalan film, and one I can quote frame per frame. IDK man, I just love the deeply emotional message, mixed with the humor that gives you a break from holding your breath and gritting away the painful tragedy. The full circle nature of the plot, and the classic M. Night subversion of the expected is just so good. 

Clue is an oldie but a goodie. I love those “strangers with secrets locked in insert location on a dark cold stormy night, and people start dying. All modern whodunits all hail to Clue which has a brand of humor that is incapable of being replicated. if you’ve never had flames on the sides of your face, then you’ve not experienced Clue. 

HONORABLE MENTION: When Harry Met Sally / French Kiss I sound like some kind of Meg Ryan freak, and honestly I’m not. But these two films are both just the peak of romcom for me. Before we reduced ourselves to raunchy humor for a quick laugh, or standardized degrading misogyny. Though both films have their flaws and unique stories and flow, they’re the sort that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, like I could actually believe in love someday. ALSO the cinematography of WHMS is LEGENDARY. ABSOLUTELY LEGENDARY.

For pure entertainment value, Lord of the Rings is likely my number 1, but it’s easy to exhaust yourself on them after you have binged the extended editions 30 times. Indiana Jones probably edges out Star Wars and Jurassic Park for me, at least the original trilogy, anyhow. I love me some action and adventure. (In the same vain, Romancing the Stone & Jewel of the Nile are also A+ but sorry Michael Douglas you will never be Harrison Ford.)

[redhatmeg]

I love how the scene of Ark of Coventant killing the Nazis is so gore-y. By today's standards melting and exploding heads of Herman Dietrich, Rene Belloq and Arnold Toht have B-movie quality to it and honestly, it makes it all the better.

Especially Toht's death. Truly iconic.

[redhatmeg]

I remember being buffled by the scene in the classroom, when I watched this movie for the first time. Up until this moment, I knew only the adventurer part of Indy (largely due to popcultural osmosis; the golden idol and boulder scenes are often parodied), so seeing him on the univerisity, wearing glasses, was something unexpected.

But I was quick to understand why it's here. This is Indy's "day job", so to speak. He's an academic teacher that wears suits and glasses, and gives lectures on neolithic period. He's still very popular among students, and probably treated as a hot teacher, especially by girls (they practically dominate the audience and one even subtly confesses).

Edit:

This scene also shows that Indy has some shady side to him, as he steals artifacts from indigenous people to the museum.

Edit 2:

RIGHT?!

It's a little bit of realism in this whole scene. On so many different levels.

[redhatmeg]

I've watched this movie only once, long time ago, but one scene I remembered very well.

The one where Indy is hanging at the cliff, reaching for the Holy Grail, and his father, calls him by his nickname.

I always thought it was very neat, since up until now he called his son Junior which Indy didn't appreciate. Now, Indy is about to make the same mistake as Elsa, but Henry Jones Sr. snaps him out if it with one simple line:

"Indiana... Indiana, let it go."

[redhatmeg]

You know, this is probably the first movie where we see Indy flirting with a woman from the get-go. So far with Marion and Willie he was mostly bickering and the flirting was coming much later.

And I get why it's different here. With Marion he had a history and with Willie he was preoccupied by different things. Here he just met a Elsa Schneider and he's enamored. There's no gangesters or Nazis on his tail (yet), so he's more relaxed. You could imagine this is how he is towards women normally and this is how he was with Marion.

[redhatmeg]

I know that Teddy is supposed to be Helena's Short Round but so far he's rather generic.

And I'm not saying it only because my main man, Shorty, was much younger and did much more things than just occasional driving and telling Indy where to go.

I'm one hour and fourteen minutes into this movie and so far Teddy is just deadpan snarker, making jokes about Indy's age. The most interesting thing about him is that he seems to be interested in aviation (given that in his first scene he was simulating an airplane cockpit on his table and asking a pilot about what he should do now; and later he's fascinated with American choppers flying in Tanger), but I need something more.

Well, he has more than a whole hour to show more personality. And I suppose that at some point he's going to fly something.

[redhatmeg]

Indiana Jones: You think he'd be proud of this?

Helena: Who?

Indiana: Your father! His only daughter selling her soul for bail money!

Helena: God forbid woman do anything!

[redhatmeg]

Sallah, my man!

You always show up in exotic locations: Egypt, Palestine, New York...

[redhatmeg]

See my theory regarding Indy girls is this:

Marion and Willie didn't want to be part of the adventure; they were dragged into it by external circumstances.

Elsa was working with Indy, because she wanted to find Grail. Indy wanted to find it only because of his father but he and Elsa were, more or less, cooperating, and he even called her out at some point.

Irina was using force and coercion to make Indy look for the aliens. Indy was lost and by looking for Ox, he found new adventure.

Now, we have a much older, tired of life Indy. Suddenly Helena Shaw shows up and drags him into adventure. And the story comes full circle.

I want to see, if I'm right about this.

[redhatmeg]

Also this is the second Disney owned franchise that combines Toby Jones and Nazis.

At least now he's not a scientist working for Hydra.

[redhatmeg]

Now, there's young and beautiful (if a bit deranged-looking) Pablo Picasso, who has cubistic painting in his flat... and I don't know, man, I feel like 1908 is too early for cubism.

*checks Wikipedia*

Nevermind, thw movement began in 1907. My bad for associating it with Interbellum Period.

[redhatmeg]

Indiana Jones: You had to get yourself caught!

Marion Ravenwood: Dude, you're surrounded by Russians!

[redhatmeg]

At the same time as Indy and Mutt walk through Orellana's grave, there are moments that remind me of Indy's interactions with Short Round, namely: the fact that at some point doctor Jones tells Mutt to take the backpack (and there are multiple scenes in Temple of Doom where Shorty is carrying the backpack for Indy) and later orders him to not touch anything in the tomb (just like he told Shorty in the secret passage).

For me, it's a sign that Indy falls into old habits from when he had a young assistent again. It's a moment when he feels like his old self.

[redhatmeg]

Mutt Williams is actually a very fleshed-out character.

Over his trip with Indy we learn that he's looking for his mother and Oxley. We learn that Oxley himself is an old family friend and someone Mutt treats like a surrogate father. We learn that he drops out from every good school Marion his mother puts him through, and he sees himself as a motorbike mechanic.

He also has a really interesting dynamic with Indy, because at first he assumes that doctor Jones is just some old nerd who specializes in archeology and old texts. But gradually the same old nerd gets cooler with each new interaction - he knows obscure and extinct langauges, he can fight, he's good with diversion. He's like an older mentor.

And since this movie goes for older Indy being kinda lost in new era theme, Mutt's role also makes sense.