The final installment of the George Lucas phenomenon brings back memories of Star Wars through the years.
I had the privilege of seeing Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith (no, that's all the title there is) last week. But before my review, here's the proverbial "opening crawl" to set it all up...
I was four-years-old — maybe even three — when my mother took me to see a brand new movie called Star Wars. I still remember the text floating away from camera into space, hinting at a marvelous backstory, before Lucas ever attached an "Episode" number and subtitle on for the subsequent re-release (as if you didn't know: "IV" and "A New Hope"). I still remember how I felt when that Star Destroyer was practically soaring over the audience's heads in pursuit of Princess Leia and her blockade runner. And I still remember thinking that Darth Vader and his Imperial stormtroopers were a mean bunch of robots... (Like I said, I was four.) It's the first movie I really remember seeing, though Rescuers and Fantasia float in the ether of my early memories competing for that distinction as well. But I always give Star Wars the benefit of the doubt.
For it was Star Wars, not the Disney movies, that inspired my childhood — the games I played, the friends I kept, the dreams I dreamt. Often, I wanted to grow up to become hotshot pilot and all-around scoundrel Han Solo. Sometimes I wanted to be Luke Skywalker when I was feeling more noble. Rarely I was even willing to be Chewbacca. For being able to visit those wondrous worlds in those amazing spaceships was the one thing I wanted more than anything. More than inspiring my childhood, though, Star Wars inspired the rest of my life, because if not for that movie, I wouldn't be living in Los Angeles, having spent years of my life invested in some damn-fool idealistic crusade to be in the movie business. (Some will argue if that is a good thing; I leave it to you to decide.)
I'm sure that story is the same for most children of the Seventies. At least my mother, as thrilled by Star Wars and its sequels as I was, was willing to feed my habit like the junkie I was. Literally feed that habit — for my 1980 birthday (summer of The Empire Strikes Back), she baked and decorated the coolest cake I will ever see: a two-foot-tall Imperial Walker. I was in Heaven; my life was all about merchandise, from the toys to the cereal to the bed sheets to the posters... ad infinitum.
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But time passes, and in the mid-Eighties, in the nadir of Star Wars-fandom, I lost my way. It wasn't anything intentional; Return of the Jedi had come and gone (twice: once in '83 and again in '85), and no one really believed George Lucas would ever get around to making Episodes I-III. But more than anything, I became a teenager, and that was the real stake in my heart; I had to give up the trappings of childhood and be into more respectable pursuits. Namely, girls. I will forever rue the day my father, desperate to clean out our attic, asked me if he could take some of my Star Wars toys to Goodwill; like a fool, I shrugged in that pubescent, I'm-too-cool-to-care way and said something along the lines of "Whatever." Bits and pieces of the collection survived, but none of my action figures did... and let's face it, those were the most fun of all.
Towards the end of my teen years, I had uncovered the truth, that — gasp! — it was possible to be cool AND be a Star Wars fan (though if you've ever spent the night lined up for a Star Wars movie — or any movie — that's up for debate). I just didn't let it define my entire existence like I had when I was younger. Though I did seek to remedy my lack of action figures in college, buying back used toys on the secondary market... which I promptly put in boxes in the closet. But at least they were mine again.
What fully reinvigorated me as a fan wasn't the "Special Editions," those digital bastardizations of the movies I knew and loved. (Note to George: the one fix Jedi did NOT need was another musical number.) It was the news that Lucas was doing the unthinkable: he was returning to finish what he started and finally make Episodes I-III, the "prequel trilogy," if you will. I rejoiced at the news, as if my years of fan-hood weren't wasted after all... Could it be possible? Yes! After a sixteen-year drought, these would certainly be the BEST Star Wars films of all!
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And we all know how that turned out.
Rather then recap the failings of The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones, which has been done to death in the media (and which I largely agree with), let's just say for the sake of argument that there was something lacking in those movies that was richly apparent in the originals. More crucial than that, there was something present that wasn't in the Original Trilogy: these were movies aimed solely at eight-year-olds. Okay, I concede that Jedi was a sign of things to come, with its burping aliens and cute little dwarves in teddy bear costumes. We should have expected it. But no, now we had to suffer through Jar-Jar Binks. Alien creatures farting... on camera. For a series named Star Wars ... a noticeable lack of star wars. Had the movies been released in chronological order, and Episode I was released back in 1977? Yes, the scale of it all would have been revolutionary. The movie likely would have been a ridiculously huge blockbuster hit on the sheer number of its special effects alone. But I don't believe they would have had the kind of cultural impact that the original Star Wars did. These were not movies my parents could enjoy by my side like they did nearly 30 years ago; these were movies they would have dropped me off at the theater to see while they went out shopping or to dinner. And that's been the biggest disappointment of all.
So now we come to the end of the six Star Wars movies: Episode Three. (Only if you've been on another planet the last thirty years will that sound paradoxical.)
And to your big question — is it any better than the others? — I can only say, oh yes. Far, far better.
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In a sense, this movie is critic-proof. Everyone will want to see this to learn how all six movies come to their grand end, and they should. (Unless they're young children... it's PG-13 for a reason, something unusual for these films.)
But since that's not saying a lot, I'll be more specific. Don't worry, spoiler fanatics, I'm not going to reveal anything you don't already know. Less than that, even.
The most simplistic version of the plot is this: Anakin becomes Darth Vader and sets into motion the events of the Original Trilogy. (See? I told you I wouldn't reveal anything.)
The film does suffer the same faults of its recent predecessors, but to much less of a degree: - There are no cringe-inducing moments; while the dialogue can be stilted between fated lovers Anakin and Padme, for example, there's nothing so painful as in the last movie, which, by God, was truly painful. - Yes, Samuel L. Jackson embarrasses himself for the third time. But not only is Hayden Christiansen not intolerable (as Anakin Skywalker), Natalie Portman as Padme manages a few moments of believability... which for this trilogy is saying a lot. And as for the "great" performances, Ian McDiarmid truly knocks the role of Chancellor Palpatine out of the park. You'll love him. Ewan McGregor finally gets his teeth into Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the best "actor" of all? Give credit to the effects wizards at Industrial Light & Magic: it's Yoda, managing to look more expressive and sympathetic than most of the cast around him. As for Jimmy Smits: he's still pretty much Jimmy Smits. (Say it out loud: Jimmy Smits. Then say it again. What a name.) - Lucas still likes to shoot everything in close-ups — even in action scenes — though while annoying, you can sense a much more epic expanse than ever before, as if he finally realized that these movies should not take place in Senate meetings or on grassy plains. - While the editing feels questionable, with scenes butting heads (likely due to Lucas removing scenes wholesale; see below), the pacing moves much more quickly. If you start to get bored in a scene, don't worry; it's already coming to an end. - Again, Lucas has cut John Williams's fantastic score to pieces, often reusing music from Episode I... but what's new is amazing and fits the mood perfectly. - And while digital effects, characters and backgrounds rule the day, for the first time they're well-integrated into the scenes and (mostly) feel entirely real.
There are other complaints: Anakin's character turn isn't as developed as it should be, though a lot of the blame rests on the previous films. The new villain, droid general Grievous, did nothing for me. And R2-D2 is often times just another CG joke, not the charming character we used to know and love. (And no, I can't believe I said that about a robot that communicates solely through beeping.)
But overall, those are minor quibbles... because for once, there's some semblance of real emotion here, something I thought Lucas was long incapable of. The second half of the movie, when the shit hits the fan, actually makes you feel something for a change. It's surprisingly, relentlessly dark; you can believe all the press propaganda about this being the most "grim" and "violent" movie in the saga. (While being "dark" is not necessarily a good thing, in and of itself, in this case it makes what's happening on screen all the more dramatic and involving.) And there's a tremendous amount of satisfaction seeing all the narrative threads tie together; that's partly due to the nostalgia of it all, but no matter. Nostalgia is what George Lucas does best, and I wish I could've sat through the last 15 minutes again and again and again.
I actually went into the movie knowing just about everything about the story — yes, I'm that kind of obsessive nerd. But while that disappointed me, it's not for the reason you might expect. Despite reading spoilers online, there remained moments that caught me off-guard, that I never knew to expect. What was infuriating was knowing which scenes Lucas had written (and filmed!) for the movie, only to see them cut. Specifically, there were two additional subplots — well, one subplot and one brief scene — that would have made the movie much more compelling and helped further connect the two trilogies. And let's face it: that's what the audience wants. Connection. It's the only movie I can think of that I'd recommend you see it, then read the novelization afterward. Now we know you're not likely to do that... but no matter. The movie manages to work on its own. (Hopefully the scenes will return one day, either as extras on the DVD release, or as part of yet another "Extra-Special Special Edition.")
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I always wondered, when I was young, what I'd be doing when the Prequel Trilogy was released. I imagined taking my child to each movie on opening day, like my parents did with me, and enjoying it with them. Since I'm a few years late to the married life, I'll never know how that feels, and that's a shame. So many of my memories have to do with Star Wars, that knowing this is finally the end makes for a melancholic experience.
While Lucas has already promised to make two saga-related television series (one animated, one live-action), to help further bridge the gap between the trilogies, it won't be the same thing. Nor, for that matter, are the "Expanded Universe" novels that describe events outside of the films; I've never read them, and have no interest. Because to me, Star Wars is made for the theater screen, and that's where it belongs. So go see it, and cheer with the rest of the audience when the phrase "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... ." fades up. And keep cheering.
This isn't a perfect movie — it's not a perfect Star Wars movie, even — but for once, this prequel is an enjoyable reminder of just how good this series can be.
