By Bob Shultz 
Fans are a strange phenomenon. I have to admit to having a morbid fascination with those unique individuals who have an abnormal obsession with some aspect of pop culture.
Who are these people?
What twisted aspect of their lives have they turned off in order to “turn on” to things like Star Trek, Star Wars, NASCAR, Jimmy Buffett and Elvis worship?
Now, bare in my mind, as a pop culture nut, I too have to admit to having a mild obsession with the things that will temporarily yank me out of the world of deadlines and bill paying. But my departure is only temporary…. After all, I live in the real world, right?
Well, my dear Joes, it has come time to confess that I too have a deep obsession, one that sucks away most of my expendable income. It is time to stop pointing a laughing finger at others, get off my snobbish high horse and admit my own deep seeded obsession.
I am the biggest Indiana Jones fanatic in the world.
It’s hard to admit to the general public but as objective as I try to be with film reviews (and other transitory things of the world of pop culture) there is no objectivity when it comes to Dr. Henry Jones, Jr.
Worse yet: I’m a snob when it comes to other Indiana Jones fans, because I’m a niche fanatic.
Like any good fan, I appreciated the 1984 film, “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.” I relished in the pleasure of seeing Indy and his buddies again in 1989 in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.” I was shocked and sickened to see Lucas make a quick buck with the short-lived and abysmal ABC TV series, “The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles.” But my real love and passion lies with the alpha-dog of the series, 1981’s “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”
When I say fanatic, I truly mean a FANATIC for anything associated with this film. I’ve been known to travel 200 miles to a see a scratchy print of the movie with an audience. I will be the first one to buy a new DVD release of the film, and NEVER watch it, because I will only see it in theatres.
Over the past 27 years since its release, I have collected props from the movie, premiere programs from its opening night, Belgian, Brazilian, and Australian movie posters from its original release and its 5 eventual re-releases. I have corresponded and written fan letters from bit players of the movie and have practically memorized the entire credit sequence.
In my younger days, I even asked the women I’ve dated to know and recall the most complex bits of trivia to carry on extensive conservations with me. Don’t know the assignment Dr. Jones gave to his students? Sorry, dear this just isn’t working! Don’t know the serial number given to the Ark as it was rolled into storage in the last 2 minutes of the film? Gosh, babe, we need to talk. (By the way, in case you’re curious, the assignment was to read “Michelson’s Chapters 4 and 5” and the serial number is 9906753.) So, as the “George Lucas Marketing Machine” is gearing for the next Indiana Jones film, “Indiana Jones and Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls” (opening May 22) I have mixed feelings.
I’ve been following the progression of this film for the last 20 years… from vague rumor to legitimate project. I’ve read a number of the early drafts, including the original concept, “Raiders of the Fallen Empire” penned by the great Screenwriter, Lawrence Kasden. It feels like an end of era for me, the time is here and soon the whole world will soon find out if Harrison Ford can pull it off.
No matter what, if the movie is good or bad, it will be great to see Indy back in the saddle again. The release of film has forced me to come out of my private cocoon of obsession, and take stock of other people’s pop culture obsessions. As much as I love to mock super Trekkers and NASCAR addicts… I do understand how a piece of pop culture can really establish who you are and what kind of person you’ll be. It did me.
It was at the Chouteau Theatre in North Kansas City, when I (as a nine-year-old kid) was dragged out to see the movie for the first time. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to see Harrison Ford as ANYTHING but Han Solo. So I fought my parents tooth and nail right up to the box office booth. As the movie began, I sat with my arms folded not willing to suspend my disbelief for one moment.
But surely I did.
And by the time that Indy had lost the Ark for first time and the evil Nazis were loading it on to a truck for Cairo… Indy was asked how he was going to get it back, he answered in the best line possible… “I don’t know, I make it up as I go along” and then CUT to triumphant music cue as Indy mounts a white horse and races after his precious cargo.
It was that moment that I knew the medium film was going to be to the focus of my professional life: a piece of entertainment that reached out and touched a deepest part of a stubborn, often sickly, nine-year-old from the burbs. In short, I discovered the power of the cinema on the individual.
It was my zeitgeist moment; it could have been a book, a play, an album… it just happened to be a simple action movie in a theatre. I totally identified with a character that was battered and bruised and still came out fighting: a person who was always the underdog and surrounded himself with other underdogs, a person who didn’t rely on Jedi skills, secret agent weapons or a magical ring to solve his problems. Here was a person who used his brains, and his fists when needed, to do what was right. He made mistakes, but he learned from his mistakes, plus… he had that killer bullwhip!
Sure, there have been better-constructed movies before and since. There have certainly more profound films that have said more about the human condition then “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” But none has ever changed my life more deeply then that film.
Brilliantly and ironically, Raiders was not an original movie. It was simply a labor of love constructed by two college friends, Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, who wanted to make the kind of movie that they remembered as a young kid.
If you deconstruct the film, it is simply a collection of old Republic Pictures Serials with a little Flash Gordon and dash of James Bond. Even Indy’s clothes are an emulation of other movie characters, specifically: Zorro, Tom Mix, Lawrence of Arabia and Gary Cooper from “For Whom the Bell Tolls.”
As my obsession grew in this pre-internet era, I would spend hours at the Library looking over old movie books picking up these little tidbits, staying up for the late shows and pouring over every element that had some part in development of the movie.
That led to producing my own films and opened the door to the whole international world of films and filmmakers. And eventually lending itself to a degree in Film History and the best opportunity to ever have here: talking publicly about films, Filmmakers and the never-ending power of cinema.
So yes… I can honestly say… the little popcorn film “Raiders of the Lost Ark” shaped and changed my life. And until now, I have kept that little secret private to only a few of my closest friends.
It IS a little embarrassing to have such a passion of something SO trite and so inconsequential. But there it is… and although I still don’t understand why someone would obsess over such mundane things as NASCAR, Star trek and Elvis beyond the realm of simple appreciation and diversion… I can relate to you fine folks.
In some way, if you are a deep fan/fanatic of something… it is because at some point, you have identified an ideal or better part of yourself in your obsessions: Something that propels you to be a better person and a greater part of the world community.
So, to my fellow fan freaks out there… embrace your passions, forget what others think, and find solace in others who can identify with you. Forget the naysayers and embrace your inner weirdness. You only go around this life once, do it on your own terms.
Then again, don’t take advice from me… I’m just making it up as I go along.