So, I’ve had Indiana Jones on my mind lately. (Have I told you why Indy IV is the movie equivalent of having Bambi’s mother hacked to death and eaten before your very eyes?) My boys are Jones-obsessed, constantly watching the (old) movies, listening to the music, and playing with their Indy Lego. The 4 year-old likes to say “asps, very dangerous”; both run in glee (!) when their father starts chanting “Mola-Ram, Sula-Ram.”
Of course, I approve of such devotion given that Raiders is the best film of all time (take that, RT). There are unfortunate consequences to this devotion, however, foremost among which is their obsession with Germans and Nazis. This was always embarrassing when we lived in Vienna. I cannot count the times I had to tell them to shut-up when one or the other announced loudly in the park that he was going to play the Nazi. Just this week, the youngest bought a “German soldier” with his pocket money, the type that gets zapped by Ark-lightening at the end of Raiders. When my parents mentioned that they were off to Germany this week, Son Two proclaimed that “Germany is full of bad guys.”
Ouch. At least Germany can now bask in the Russian-hatred of Indy IV (or, better put, wallow). It sucks when you cannot escape the past, however one might try. In Last Crusade, the German officer whacks Indy about the face after saying, “Zis is how ve say goodbye in Germany.” The German language version makes a change — “Zis is how ve say goodbye in ze SS.” Too bad such subtleties do not reach English ears.