We planned to bring you a full report of our attendance at last night’s midnight screening of “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull,” but it’s impossible to do so without including major “spoilers.” We’re putting that in quotes, because we’re not sure “spoilers” is an appropriate term in this case. The idea that anything we might have to say could possibly “spoil” an already rotten movie calls to mind the “Simpsons” episode when Homer pummels the Hamburglar until a frightened child sobs, “Stop! He’s already dead!”

How bad is it? Well, the reason I’m writing this post is because Stephen is too busy investigating the possibility of having George Lucas and Steven Spielberg formally charged with a hate crime.

Even so, we respect your right to waste your money however you see fit. So if you feel the need to throw $10 at yet another perfunctory, predictable Hollywood sequel, by all means, be our guest.

If nothing else, you’ll get a few (unintentional) laughs out of it. For instance, there’s the movie’s climax, which features the kind of inter-dimensional mumbo jumbo that you’d expect to hear in college when your pseudo-intellectual roommate’s been taking bong hits for three hours while watching Hubble footage on NASA TV. There’s the relentless and thoroughly unnecessary appearance of adorable computer-generated critters — gophers and monkeys, most notably — who at least have the charm of not being Ewoks. And then there’s the dripping-with-irony moment when Indy steals a line from Han Solo and mutters, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” and you can’t help but nod and think, “That makes two of us.” (I think that’s about when our friend Sarah got up to “go to the bathroom” and never came back.)

Oh, and what about the way Cate Blanchett’s cartoonish commie makes you wonder when Boris Badenov is gonna show up, dahlink?

 
But perhaps the most side-splitting, underwear-soiling scene is the one where Shia TheBeef‘s “greaser” character is introduced. He’s probably supposed to evoke thoughts of Marlon Brando in “The Wild One,” but our buddy James was spot-on when he started singing, “Macho Macho Man!”

 
Oops, is that a spoiler? Oh, who cares. The narrative — such as it is — is beside the point. Go for the action, the stunts and the cheap thrills. But even then, don’t expect anything you haven’t seen before. Ultimately, these filmmakers are raiders of their own lost inspiration.

It’s just too bad we had to stay up until 2:30 in the morning to find that out. Now excuse me while I go get another Mountain Dew.