At the end of the film, Indiana Jones is a tragic figure, consoling his grieving wife and mourning his son's early death. That's our last glimpse of the character; not riding into the sunset, triumphant. Not reuniting with and marrying his sweetheart, and throwing a cheeky smirk as he takes his hat back from his son. No, he's an old man broken by grief. What an uplifting fucking ending to the entire saga. Oh, and try watching, say, Raiders again with that foreknowledge. The ending of Raiders – Indy and Marion trotting down the steps to a then-uncertain future, is no longer a hopeful, optimistic moment; it's now leading them inexorably towards tragedy.

Fuck this film.

Fuck this movie. Like the Disney Star Wars sequels – the first one in particular – it's like a Greatest Hits compilation of bits you liked from the previous films (Indiana Jones punches Nazis on a moving vehicle! Crumbling ruins with puzzles and booby traps!) while adding in backstory that utterly undermines the happy ending of the previous film and reframes every moment of the preceding films as part of a tragic arc.