Indiana Jones and the House With Too Many Stairs
Ebert: "Better than Kingdom of the Crystal Skull!"
A couple of years ago, after yet another Indiana Jones sequel was announced, I envisioned the logical end of the franchise.
I think I came pretty close to the mark.
It might help to imagine you’ve just unearthed this movie script from the dark depths of a massive warehouse overflowing with curiosities.
Newly added footnotes for additional amusement.
EXT. CONNECTICUT COLONIAL — DAY
A hovercar parks at the top of a circle drive. A pair of suits step out. They look up at the house, a colonial two-story.
SUIT 1: Are you sure he’s still alive? He must be nearly 150 years old.
SUIT 2: Rumor has it he drank from the cup of Christ. Some holy residue must be propping him up.1
SUIT 1: Even if that’s true, how much help can he possibly be?
SUIT 2: What other choice do we have.
INT. KITCHEN — DAY
An old man sprawls across the kitchen table amid a chaos of prescription bottles, his head resting on an old leather satchel.
He stirs at the doorbell and sits up, revealing an elderly Short Round.
SHORT ROUND: Okay okay okay.
EXT. FRONT PORCH — DAY
The door opens inward. The suits tower over the old man but flinch in the face of his irritation.
SHORT ROUND: Why you knocking so loud? People are sleeping. What do you want.
SUIT 1: Ahh… Dr… Jones?
SHORT ROUND: Do I look like Dr. Jones to you? Very funny.
SUIT 2: We have a matter of some urgency to discuss with Dr. Jones.
SHORT ROUND: He’s busy. Come back later.
The door slams in their faces.
INT. STUDY — DAY
A frail, elderly man sleeps in a wheelchair, his hands tucked under the blanket in his lap. He’s surrounded by bookshelves of old tomes and memorabilia.
The door opens.
SHORT ROUND: Dr. Jones. Wake up. It’s time for your medicine.
Indy draws an old sixshooter from under his blanket. His hand trembles from the weight.
INDIANA JONES: Who the hell are you.
SHORT ROUND: Haha, very funny Dr. Jones.
Short Round easily disarms Indy and places a handful of pills in his hand.
INDY: Cyanide?
SHORT ROUND: Viagra.2
Indy swallows the pills dry.
INDY: Those men — what did they want?
SHORT ROUND: To see Dr. Jones.
INDY: Tell them he’s dead.
Indy looks at a framed photo on the wall in which Indy, his father, Sallah, and Brody smile in the light of an ancient sun.
Indy: We’re all dead.3
OVER BLACK:
DISEMBODIED VOICE: Dr. Jones?
INT. LIBRARY — EVENING
Indy dozes in an upholstered leather chair.
Short Round elbows Indy. He awakes with a snort.
INDY: I was just resting my eyes.
SHORT ROUND: You were snoring, Dr. Jones. Very big snores.
SUIT 1: Dr. Jones—do you want some coffee?
INDY, nodding: Please. You were saying something about a space machine?
SUIT 2: A time machine. The clone of Elon Musk opened a portal to the 1930s. He wants to seize the Ark of the Covenant and usher in an era of Nazi supremacy in our time, with himself installed as leader.4
INDY: Nazis. I hate those guys.
SUIT 1: Given your familiarity with the Ark, we were hoping you might be willing to go back in time and help us stop him.
INDY: Let them have it.
SUIT 2: Excuse me?
INDY: The Ark is really good at killing Nazis. Chasing after them is just a lot of wasted effort. Let them open it. I’ll be watching Matlock.
SUIT 1: That may have been true in 1936. The clone of Musk wants to bring the Ark to our timeline, where there is already one Ark. Our scientists are afraid the presence of a second Ark will amplify the power of the first. The result could be, well..
SUIT 2: Apocalyptic.
INDY: Time travel… clones… it’s enough to make me miss monkeys and aliens.5
INT. NASA FACILITY
Dozens of soldiers stand ready in front of an enormous swirling portal.
The Suits check their watches.
INT. BATHROOM
Short Round leans against a wall, listening to sporadic dribbling.
SHORT ROUND: I told you not to drink that coffee, Dr. Jones.
INDY: Huh?
SHORT ROUND: You should not drink that coffee!
INDY: Well why didn’t you say so?
SHORT ROUND: I did say so Dr. Jones. You don’t listen. You never listen.
INDY: What?
The flush of a toilet drowns out Short Round’s reply.
Indy comes wheeling into view wearing his old adventuring gear. He rolls out without washing his hands.
INDY: Come on, Short Round. You’re holding everyone up.6
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — DAY
The Suits and their soldiers emerge from the portal. Hundreds of Nazis line the cliffs, firing down on the confused soldiers. It’s the beginning of Saving Private Ryan but Tom Hanks is nowhere to be found.
Indy and Short Round appear amidst the carnage.
SHORT ROUND: Oh shit!
INDY: What?
SHORT ROUND: We gotta go Dr. Jones.
The portal closes before they can escape.
The gunfire dies down as the last of the team is cut down. Silence.
Clone Musk steps through the Nazis. He’s covered head to toe in swastikas. There are swastikas buzzed into the sides of his hair. His pants are sagging, revealing swastika underoos.
His time in the past has given him a German accent.
CLONE MUSK: Leaving so soon, Dr. Jones? But you’ve only just arrived. And we have so very much to discuss.
INT. EGYPTIAN TENT — DAY
The body of Dr. Belloq, Indy’s old rival, is sprawled across a desk, his throat cut open.
Indy and Short Round are tied to chairs.
Clone Musk strides into the tent and pushes the body aside.
CLONE MUSK: Useless man. How he was ever your rival, I will never understand.
Indy looks down at the pale face of Belloq, his expression haunted.
CLONE MUSK: In springing your little trap, you tried to use my own time travel technology against me. Did you know that? The only thing more ridiculous is Zuckerberg’s refusal to let the Metaverse go. Hey Mark—nobody wants to hang out in your shitty virtual basement.
Clone Musk laughs alone.
CLONE MUSK: Time travel is a strange thing. We sit here in 1936, blessed with the benefit of foresight. We both know, you and I, that very soon Marion Ravenwood will arrive. I’ve always had a thing for brunettes. She will make a fine addition to my harem.7
INDY: You bastard!
CLONE MUSK: tsk tsk, Dr. Jones. We are all civilized men here, yes? You need only show me where the Ark is hidden, and I will be on my way. That is, assuming you remember.
INDY, bristling: I remember.
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — DAY
Indy sits in his wheelchair, peering at a map. Exhausted laborers lean on their shovels. Dozens of aborted dig sites are visible in the near distance. The desert looks like a playground for gigantic groundhogs.
CLONE MUSK: You’re sure this time?
INDY: Oh yes, this is it.
Clone Musk strides away, goading his men into action.
SHORT ROUND: Tire them out? Good idea, Dr. Jones.
INDY: Huh? Oh. Yeah. Thanks.
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — NIGHT
The laborers, Clone Musk, and Indy have all passed out. Short Round works alone.
His shovel strikes rock.
SHORT ROUND: Dr. Jones. Shhhh. Wake up. I found something. Shhhh.
INDY: I told you I knew where it was. Ahh — where is it?
SHORT ROUND: Right under your feet.
Using shovels, the old men pry at a stone block. Indy collapses into his wheelchair.
INDY: Blood sugar. Too low.
SHORT ROUND: Or sure, sit there and enjoy a Snickers while Short Round does all the work. You’re not funny Dr. Jones. Not funny at all.
Short Round opens a gap. They stare down into darkness.
INDY: You better get moving.
SHORT ROUND: What do you mean — you better get going?
INDY: Take a lot of torches. I seem to remember something about snakes.
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — EARLY MORNING
As the faintest hint of dawn brushes the horizon, Indy and Short Round struggle to load a crate onto an Army truck.
INDY: Don’t remember… being so heavy.
SHORT ROUND: More lift, less talk.
They get it loaded with Short Round doing all the work. Short Round helps Indy into the truck’s cab and puts the wheelchair in back with the Ark.
He finds Indy behind the wheel.
SHORT ROUND: Haha, very funny Dr. Jones.
INDY: Get in shorty. We gotta go.
SHORT ROUND: Move over! You can’t even see.
INDY: I can see just fine.
They fight over the steering wheel.
Sirens erupt, splitting the tranquility of near-dawn.
Indy turns the ignition, pops the truck into gear, and floors it, with Short Round hanging onto the open door.
The truck flies backward into a large drift of sand, jarring to a halt.
INDY: I meant to do that.
SHORT ROUND: Dr. Jones!
Armed men spot the truck. They begin running, shouting in German.
Indy drops the truck into first gear.
INDY: Gives us more of a runway.
The truck lunges forward. Short Round clambers over Indy into the passenger seat.
INT. TRUCK — EARLY MORNING
SHORT ROUND: No, you’re going the wrong way!
INDY: I know a shortcut.
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — EARLY MORNING
The truck careens through the Nazi camp, running over tents and scattering soldiers.
INT. TRUCK — EARLY MORNING
Indy and Short Round bounce in their seats as the truck runs over something. A Wilhelm scream is distantly heard.
Short Round reaches out and pulls a tent from the windshield.
SHORT ROUND: This is not a shortcut! It’s a longcut. A badcut.
INDY: Leave the driving to me.
The truck clears the camp and bounces across the desert, ignoring the perfectly good road several feet away.8
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — MORNING
A line of German vehicles follows a wayward truck. Clone Musk sits in the lead jeep. Veins stand out on his forehead.
CLONE MUSK: There is nowhere to go now, Doctor Jones. After him — schnell!
The German vehicles flank the truck, boxing it in. Men jump onto the back and begin climbing along the top.
INT. TRUCK — MORNING
INDY: Take the wheel. I’ll deal with this.
SHORT ROUND: That’s not a good idea.
EXT. TRUCK — MORNING
Indy crawls out the driver’s side window and starts to climb but his back goes out. He loses his grip and crashes to the ground.
EXT. EGYPTIAN DESERT — MORNING
A jeep stops beside Indy’s still figure. The driver gets out to check the body.
DRIVER: He’s fading, sir.
CLONE MUSK: Nein. Dose ihm.
The driver retrieves a syringe from a silver briefcase and injects Indy with amber fluid.
Indy awakes slowly. He looks around.
INDY: No. No—let me go. Please.
CLONE MUSK: In due time, Doctor Jones. But first you shall witness mein accession.
INDY: You’ll never get the Ark. Short Round is a master of subterfuge. He’s probably halfway to Cairo.
A caravan of vehicles stop nearby. A bound and bloodied Short Round is tossed out the back of a truck.
SHORT ROUND: This is all your fault, Dr. Jones. You went the wrong way. You didn’t listen. Now we’re in big trouble.
INT. PALATIAL ESTATE — NIGHT
A massive foyer of marble columns and arches. A wide circular staircase spirals toward a second story landing. Everything is pristine white. It’s a KKK wet dream.
Servants in white tuxedos circulate through a crowd standing near the base of the stairs. The servants all have identical faces. An army of Shia LaBeoufs.9
The guests are exclusively billionaires. Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, etc.
Clone Musk comes down the stairs.
CLONE MUSK: Greetings, mein friends. Welcome to the first day of the rest of our lives. No more will we be forced to trade in bodies like old iPhones. I hold within mein grasp the power of life itself.
Wild applause.
A squad of Nazis push through the crowd, dragging Indy and Short Round. They drop the two old men at the base of the stairs.
INDY: Don’t do this, Musk. You’ll doom us all.
CLONE MUSK: I did not take you for a doomscroller, Dr. Jones. What a disappointment you turned out to be.
The crowd laughs.
CLONE MUSK: I tell you what, Dr. Jones. I am a sporting man. Let’s make this interesting, hmm? If you climb to the top of the stairs before I open the Ark, I will yield to you.
INDY: You bastard!
CLONE MUSK: Come now, Doctor Jones. There are only 32 steps. Surely it is no match for the legendary Indiana Jones.
Indy grasps the ivory banister and starts hauling himself upward.
Clone Musk climbs out of sight.
SHORT ROUND: Come on, Dr. Jones. Hurry!
INDY: I’m… trying.
Indy collapses after seven steps.
INDY: This house has too many fucking stairs.
SHORT ROUND: Get up!
INDY: Go on without me. I’m done.
Commotion echoes from above. Shouts and screams.
SHORT ROUND: He’s opened the Ark! Dr. Jones — close your eyes!
Wrathful energies spill down the stairs, liquefying faces.
Indy opens his eyes and smiles.
INDY: Finally.
POST-CREDITS
Indy stands in a queue outside the gates of heaven with Musk, Bezos, and the rest. A pair of burly angels guard the entrance. They’re turning everyone away.
ANGEL 1: State your name.
INDY: Indiana Jones. Sorry—Henry Jones Junior.
ANGEL 2: Wait. The Indiana Jones?
ANGEL 1: You know this guy?
ANGEL 2: Indiana Jones. The dude who saved the Ark and the Holy Grail. He’s even got the bullwhip!
ANGEL 1: That’s this guy? I thought he’d be much younger.
ANGEL 2: What an absolute honor. I’m a huge fan, Dr. Jones.
INDY: Nice to meet you. Can I go inside?
ANGEL 1, consulting a scroll: I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. You’re not supposed to be here.
INDY: Look, if this is about Marion, I can explain.10
ANGEL 2: You’re needed back down there, sir. It’s those darn Nazis.
INDY: Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Frankly, this is the only logical explanation for the continued adventures of Indiana Jones.
Not really, but I think it’s hilarious that Indy immediately takes the pills.
This whole exercise is one big joke but not gonna lie, that’s a nice little moment of pathos.
This whole paragraph is ridiculous, but is it any more ridiculous than the plots of the 4th and 5th movies? I say no.
Not true. The scene of Shia swinging with monkeys is the worst in the franchise, and possibly in all of film history.
I know I wrote it, but I’m a big fan of the ‘old couple energy’ that Short Round and Indy bring.
I tried to work in a joke about Musk’s insane infatuation with peopling the earth with his spawn. This was the closest I got.
This whole scene is possibly my favorite thing I’ve ever written. It feels very Indiana Jones via Austin Powers.
I don’t have anything against Shia, other than that Mutt is a stupid character.
In case it’s unclear, that’s a statutory rape joke. Gross, yes, but canonical—Indy slept with Marion when she was 15. If George Lucas had gotten his way, she would’ve been much younger. I wish I was joking.
This is both really funny and an utterly uncanny prediction of the last film.
Is this a fever dream recreation?