Cate Blanchette is so hot.
She can speak Russian to me any time.
While I touch myself in the dark.
The kid studying in the library, to whom Indy delivers the one liner after crashing his motorcycle, should be the next Indiana Jones.
Wouldn't that make a lot of sense?
But alas, sometimes, even some random jerk on the internet in the throes of nerd rage...is smarter than George Lucas and Steven Spielberg.
Fun fact: If the next Indiana Jones film passes the fedora to Tarzan 'Himself' LeBeouf, I may just abandon civilization for a land of killer red ants and strange tribal men who hang around in ancient temples all day camouflaged within the walls, waiting for infamous archaeologists and bad kid actors to ambush. But what happens if I want a cigarette? Or to scratch an itch?
Talk Russian to me, Cate.
Talk Russian to me.
Verdict: Fail [3.5/10] (Aliens from another fucking dimension? It should have been ATLANTIS, you hacks! Was that just too obvious? No, let's go with aliens, guys, it's a wrap. WASTE OF CATE.)