Revenge of the Sith: Forced

By C. Antonio Romero

San Francisco, 24 May 2005 —The much-hyped Star Wars finale, Episode III:Revenge of the Sith, has descended upon American cinemas this week, establishing, for a time, its dominion over all other cinema, the prophesied record box office rolling in as moviegoers throng to see the one film that can unify, however briefly, the fragmented American media audience at the megaplex movie theatres, as well as at fast food joints, toy stores, and supermarkets.

More fortuitous than predictable, though, is how politics meets art. Beyond the obvious significance of a story in which a leader erodes democracy and assumes extraordinary powers using a trumped-up war as pretext, Sith includes what seems a veiled allusion to the poisoning of Viktor Yuschenko, leader of the Orange Revolution. (Could this be deliberate? What axe could Lucas have to grind in Ukraine?) But enough about politics—serendipity seems to be at play here, and Sith, a movie that doesn't seem that smart at heart, is probably better taken at face value.

The media blitz has been relentless for months, promising that this film, with a "dark" tone to surpass Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, would offer the payoff that could redeem the otherwise unforgiveable Episode I: The Phantom Menace and Episode II: Attack of the Clones . And the story is dark, to be sure, the action grisly, and the ending bleak—though only so bleak, because we already know that Luke Skywalker waits in the future, beckoning to his father and the rest of us from the safe vantage point of a happy ending.

But can Lucas go beyond his gift for space-fantasy eye candy, to document, darkly, Annakin Skywalker's tormented soul and his descent into Sith-dom? Can he make the romance between Padme and Annakin convincing? Can he make the political intrigue set up in the first films comprehensible? Can he find suspense or dramatic tension in a story whose ending is already a foregone conclusion?

Alas, all was too much to hope for. Lucas is a curious neither-fish-nor-fowl of a director, perhaps best described as an "inspired hack." He had a grand idea for an epic space opera, and a fresh vision that, working with talented people and a limited budget, changed the look and feel of all science fiction films that followed it. (Remember when all spacecraft, hangars, and spaceports were pristine, gleaming places, and robots said things like "That does not compute?") And, after the first film redefined the Hollywood blockbuster, he had the means to bring to the screen whatever vision he wanted to, becoming in a sense the world's most powerful independent film-maker. And the second film outdid the first, with help from director Irvin Kershner, continued evolution of effects technology, and the remarkable creation of Jedi Master Yoda by puppeteer Frank Oz.

But after that, it seemed, Lucas exhausted his gifts, or at least what those gifts allowed him to say in the "Star Wars" universe. Return of the Jedi was full of unsatisfying performances, (even Harrison Ford's Han Solo, in cheeky mode, was obviously working too hard), the action sequences more exhausting than exhilirating. And the proliferation of non-humans fighting for the rebels was so outlandish that it seemed that many of these creatures were created on a dare. (The rebel fleet is commanded by a fish-headed General Calamari?) Commercial compromises also seem to have contributed-- the Ewoks were surely born of a forced mating between a Wookie and a Care-Bear.

This final chapter is less shockingly bad, perhaps, than the two that preceded it—perhaps on the same level as Return of the Jedi.Jar-Jar Binks and the other irruptions from the colonialist unconscious of the movie serials that inspired Star Wars were largely pushed to the margins even in the second film, and, after the groaningly awful direction of Attack of the Clones (which left this critic literally banging his head against the seat in front of him in a public theater), no one could expect more than second-rate performances from even the A-list cast.

Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen
as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Annakin Skywalker

Visually, as usual, the film tries to break new ground, with huge space battles and spectacular light-saber gymnastics among fantastic landscapes. Particularly well-crafted is the hellish world where Annakin suffers the grisly injuries that leave him imprisoned in the iconic Darth Vader suit, and a clash between Obi-Wan Kenobi and a robotic General Grievous (who seems to be part repitle, part Cuisinart) is obviously the work of the effects team earning their Christmas bonus.

But no amount of eye candy can make up for two deficiencies: unhelpful direction and unspeakable dialogue. (Some lines, one thinks, even Fedex couldn't have delivered.) What shines through every performance is the thought, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling or thinking as these words come out of my mouth." Christensen in particular seems like a man trying to imagine what it would be to feel rage, doubt, love, fear; and as his emotional arc is supposed to be what lends the whole work its sense of drama, the whole film goes flat.

Hayden Christensen: not the Jedi he should have been

Scenes that should be thrilling are merely busy, and scenes that should be moving are embarassing. Ewan McGregor manages to squeeze a little pathos into some of the scenes between Obi-Wan and Annakin as the younger Jedi obviously loses his way, but other than that, every performance is as flat as always.

Also frustrating: certain scenes that exist only to tie up the threads of this film and the next three—a shot of Vader and Palpatine already at work on the Death Star, a gratuitous cameo from Chewbacca, even a scene that exists only to explain why C3PO seems to forget everything he knows about all these events. In a way the whole movie is nothing more than this: filling in the movie-shaped hole between the second and fourth films. (Without it, there could never be a special edition boxed DVD set.)

One moment better left un-shown: to hide Luke from Vader, the remnants of the Jedi Council decide to leave him with... Vader's own half-brother? Seeing it actually done, the stupidity of it boggles the mind. But, stuck with this ending, we are, and trapped in this plot, we shall be, because already been told, the rest of the story has.

If there is a tyrant at the heart of the saga, it must be Lucas. His motives are clearly sincere, and his love for the serials that inspired him did give American movies three landmarks: the first two Star Wars films, and, of course, Raiders of the Lost Ark. (And what ever happened to the director who came up with American Graffiti?) But with such potential, and such resources, his passion for his unique vision spoils everything, crushing the talent, the energy, the life out of this film, and the three that preceded it. Does he deserve to be called evil? Surely not—but he certainly earns "awful."

George Lucas, directing Samuel L. Jackson
as Jedi Master Mace Windu

Established actors like Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor and Samuel Jackson will once again take their payday and go on with their careers; one has to hope, however, that Hayden Christiensen can avoid being forever defined as "The Man Who Would Be Vader." On the other hand, he may have just positioned himself for a great future in independent film: he has instant name recognition, and can afford to finance and co-produce any project he wants. If he can apprentice under a better director than Lucas, he should have a bright future indeed.

Two stars

DVD Tip: Those with a taste for science fiction should track down all five seasons of Babylon 5 on DVD. Series creator J. Michael Straczynski, and actor Peter Jurasik, working with a staff of writers and directors, manage to make Ambassador Londo Mollari one of the most memorable characters in science fiction.

Much about the show is uneven, especially the rocky first season, but Jurasik finds his stride early and, with occasionally great scripts, makes Mollari's evolution from frustrated courtier to genocidal war criminal to desparte patriot and, finally, tormented emperor of a ruined republic psychologically convincing, satisfying and sympathetic throughout.

George Lucas should have watched this from start to finish, before setting to work on the story of Annakin, to remind himself of the kinds of alchemy he himself once achieved with less-than-grade-A material.

C. Antonio Romero is a writer and engineer based in Silicon Valley. He is the Nouveau editor of Culturekiosque.com.

[ Feedback | Home ]

If you value this page, please send it to a friend.