Here’s the question that stuck with me, going into the fourth installment of the Indiana Jones franchise: in an age of digital wonders, where a man in a metal suit dogfights with jet fighters and a kid in a race car slaps the laws of physics around with casual mastery, can a movie franchise with ambitions that seem somehow quaint in comparison hold its own? In short, can a pulp hero hold his own in a world of superheroes? And on the heels of that: Would Messrs. Lucas and Spielberg, worried about this potential inadequacy, turn their aging action hero into some kind of superman, a la John McClane in Live Free or Die Hard?

In reverse order: No, yes, and yes. There’s plenty of CGI scattered throughout Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, most prominently near the end, but until that point it’s often understated, thrown in to add a little extra to scenes that are by and large authentic. There are a handful of groaners: a swordfight atop moving cars that isn’t fooling anyone, some swingin’ monkeys, and an end sequence so heavily laden with CGI that it may as well be animated.

I try to cut those things some slack by acknowledging that the green-screening and matte painting backgrounds of the previous Indy movies were the CGI of their day. Given those few lapses, a pulp movie must rely on older tricks of the trade: set design, prop mastery, and sharp writing. The writing here is particularly fine, and the dialogue is some of the best in the entire series. Indy is as dry as he should be, and his banter with young greaser Mutt (Shia LeBouf, who holds his own against a cast of masters) is a perfectly-balanced give and take. Neither is given the upper hand, and that’s as it should be.

But there are problems. The “mystery” of the Crystal Skull and its kingdom aren’t mysteries at all, provided you’ve seen or heard anything about the movie before now. So for half the movie we wait for the characters to figure out stuff we already know, which pretty neatly kills the buildup of tension and wonder needed to make the final act really pay off. Cate Blanchett’s villain, a frigid Russian scientist who may or may not be a psychic, simply doesn’t register as much more than a very driven rival who happens to have all the machine guns. Ray Winstone’s shady sidekick is an afterthought.

The implications of the story are large, but its delivery is small, almost claustrophobic. The vistas and exotic locations of the previous movies are all but gone; in its place are tunnels, tombs, and chases through dense jungle fauna. There’s very little space for the camera to breathe, to truly take in the amazing things Indy and company are seeing and doing.

The score is much the same. It’s hard to separate Indy movies from their scores; those moments of quiet discovery and crazy chases wouldn’t be half what they are without John Williams’ score complementing and enhacing them. Williams has never been a subtle composer, but in an Indiana Jones movie that’s all right; he can hold your hand and tell you what you‘re supposed to be feeling, and it works. I would be hard pressed to recall any musical moments in Kingdom, and I just walked out of the thing.

It all feels small, in other words, more like a particularly fine installment of the Young Indiana Jones straight-to-video movies and not a full-blown feature film on par with its siblings. There are “wow” sequences, a moment or two of genuine awe, plenty of humor and brief, revealing character moments. But I could not shake that “small” feeling. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is genuine fun and good entertainment, but it is ultimately inessential.