I'm Afraid of "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull"

The advance reviews suggest that it's chock-full of George Lucas's typically tone-deaf "humor" and set-bound, bloodless CGI and green screen.  Is there NOBODY that can stand up to his cheesy, lazy impulses?  Back when Lucas and Spielberg and Ford were all successful but still hungry young filmmakers, George's crappy ideas could be held off by Steve and Harry, but now it seems that the waddle-necked tycoon cannot not be dissuaded from cramming his childish bullshit in wherever it will fit.  This doesn't bother me with Star Wars as much as it used to, because Star Wars was always childish, and was always for kids.

But Indiana Jones is for teens and young adults.  It's for people who like a little blood and danger and cursing with their adventure, and who don't have the comedic tastes of a 5-year old (or a guy in his 60s, apparently).  I hear that the beginning of the movie has some "hilarious" cutaways to CGI prairie dogs in it.

PRAIRIE DOGS.  CGI PRAIRIE DOGS.

FUCK ME.

Fuck me, and FUCK YOU, LUCAS.  Furthermore, FUCK YOU, SPIELBERG, for not having the balls or the pride or the sense of professionalism to KEEP GEORGE ON A FUCKING LEASH.  Or maybe you thought CGI prairie dogs were fucking hilarious, too.  Perhaps you've lost it as badly as your buddy.  After all, you're the guy who said that if you made Close Encounters of the Third Kind today, you wouldn't have Roy Neary get on the mothership at the end, which is like saying, "If I made Jaws today, I wouldn't have the shark eat so many people."  You're the guy who replaced the guns of federal agents with walkie talkies in your Special Edition of E.T.

George, Steve: you were once wizards, but now you are just sad old men sitting on the floor of your den pushing around the model vintage cars you bought from Sharper Image and making vroom-vroom noises.  I hoped against hope that the magic would still be there, and I suppose I'll find out myself this weekend, but I'm not liking what I'm hearing.

My worst fears are being confirmed.  It's Return of the Jedi all over again.  It's Chewbacca issuing a Tarzan yodel.  It's Ewoks.  It's the pussification of Han Solo.  It's the Special Editions.  It's Han shooting first.  It's the prequel trilogy.  It's "Woo-Hoo!" and midichlorians and C-3PO as a child's model kit.  It's JAR JAR BINKS.

I'll let you know how deeply saddened I am this Saturday.  At this point, I'll just be happy if we make it the full running time without a fart joke.