There’s a new worst Indiana Jones movie in town, but The Dial of Destiny is still a fun, engaging film with big laughs and multiple stunning set pieces. Nevertheless, while Harrison Ford and several other familiar faces are back, along with some amusing nods to the original trilogy, this concluding (?) installment is defined more by what’s absent onscreen.

Though director James Mangold does an admirable job, showcasing the action skillset he’s honed in recent winners Ford v Ferrari and Logan, his continuation of the Indy saga is noticeably missing that Steven Spielberg touch — a distinct and potent mix of comedy, heroism, and heart that simply isn’t quite present.

Dial of Destiny also lacks the narrative clarity of the unfairly maligned Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Whereas there’s no doubt what’s happening and why in the previous Indy installment, questions abound here, which should never be the case in a series famous for suspending disbelief.

Following a thrilling, 1944-set train battle — with an only slightly distractingly de-aged Ford, fighting Nazis alongside Oxford archaeologist Basil Shaw (a charmingly eccentric Toby Jones) — that establishes Archimedes’ titular Antikythera as an artifact of note, convolution bubbles up when the action shifts to 1969.

Though it’s clear that former Nazi astrophysicist Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen, playing full-card action series bingo) — now going by the alias Dr. Schmidt as a sort of Wernher von Braun stand-in, responsible for the U.S. rocket program — is in New York City to celebrate the Apollo 11 astronauts’ parade and has a date with President Nixon that afternoon, his entourage and side purposes in Manhattan are a tad murkier.

As an apparent means of appeasing their top scientist, CIA agent Mason (Shaunette Renée Wilson, The Resident) and her team are willing to apprehend Shaw’s daughter Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Fleabag), who pops in to pay her godfather Indy a surprise visit. And the spies are also game to hand a piece of the Antikythera over to Voller, whose clearly dangerous, gun-toting thugs Klaber (Boyd Holbrook) and Hauke (the towering Olivier Richters, Black Widow) are somehow allowed to help, despite Mason frequently admonishing their methods.

The underlying issue here and throughout Dial of Destiny is the ambiguity surrounding the Antikythera’s power and what Voller plans to do with it. Whereas past Indiana Jones films leave no doubt as to what’s at stake should our hero fail in his mission to stop a great evil, the only thing viewers have to go on here is Shaw’s crackpot theory that the item can locate fissures in time — a loaded phrase that the screenwriting team of Mangold, Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth, and David Koepp tragically assume viewers fully understand. But Voller’s insistence on acquiring the object is a flimsy rationale for Indy to resume his globetrotting ways, especially when there’s a certain emotional motivation sitting right there that ultimately just gets glossed over.

While these narrative issues gum up the works, the film’s core action scenes do what they can to distract viewers from the shoddy writing. The metaphorically rich Apollo 11 parade chase with Indy on horseback and Klaber on motorcycle is particularly captivating, while an extended auto rickshaw chase in Tangier and a suspenseful dive to scavenge a shipwreck — with help from Indy’s old buddy Renaldo (an underused Antonio Banderas) — provide complementary thrills.

Reunited with his fedora and bullwhip, Ford oozes the brand of effortless charisma that’s made his most iconic character so beloved these past 40-plus years. And though Voller’s machinations may be poorly developed, Mikkelsen fits into the series exquisitely well and proves a worthy adversary for our hero.

However, Waller-Bridge’s talents are wasted on a forgettable character who bogs down the majority of her scenes. There’s no need for Fleabag or Solo level humor from the actor, but hardly anything Helena says or does is funny (despite plentiful painful attempts), and her insistence on selling the Antikythera and its related pieces to pay off her debts improbably makes her even more dull. It also doesn’t help that she’s often accompanied by her teen thief friend Teddy (Ethann Isidore), a lousy substitute for Short Round.

Despite these rickety deviations from the norm, Dial of Destiny generally plays things safe, milking the winning formula of the preceding Spielberg films — that is until the climax, a gonzo stretch that makes the series’ previous supernatural events look like mere ouija board illusions. It’s a make-or-break sequence that will infuriate viewers who lost interest during the first act and delight those who don’t mind a little wackiness in their mainstream entertainment. (You know who you are.)

So, no, Mangold’s chapter may not be a truly fitting end to the series — but it’ll do.

Grade: B-minus. Rated PG-13. Now playing at AMC River Hills 10, Asheville Pizza & Brewing Co., Carolina Cinemark, and Regal Biltmore Grande.

(Photo: Walt Disney Pictures)