Director: George
Lucas | Starring:
Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Hayden Christensen,
Ian McDiarmid, Samuel L. Jackson, Jimmy Smits, Christopher Lee
Released: 2005
| Runtime: 140m
| Rating (out of 5):
**** |
|
Star Wars is a tricky
thing. It's so iconoclastic and engrained in my memories of childhood
that I am loath to say anything bad about it. Witness my somewhat
lenient review of Episode
II--which, in retrospect, could have sucked the rust off
a road-weary '86 Buick in Albany. It's like bad mouthing your grandma
or something; you love her and wouldn't want anything to happen to
her, and you owe her for all those times she snuck you cookies and
Andes mints, but she's going senile and you're just sick and tired
of hearing the same harrowing tales about depression breadlines and
Sunday bingo at the rec center. Basically, this is what Lucas has
made of the Star Wars franchise. You're forced to see them because
they're like family, but you're completely divested in the story and
are ultimately depressed when you leave. Lucas is no longer handing
us chocolate mints; the good old days are gone and we can buy our
own sweets. Maybe it's just a matter of getting older, but judging
from the reviews of Episodes I and II, it's more likely that people
feel Lucas' act has grown old. And then comes Episode III.
And like the phoenix, the franchise is resurrected and rises from
the ashes--only to come to an end. Granted, a lot of the writing and
some of the acting is atrocious, but Lucas manages to actually hold
our interest and deliver a compelling story filled with interesting
characters. I think the reason it's compelling is because it's the
first of the trilogy to have a logical tie-in to the second trilogy
in a meaningful way. The first two episodes were just preamble to
this, the keystone in the sextet. We didn't care about baby Darth.
We didn't care about adolescent Darth and his stupid crush. We care
about twisted evil Darth who dons the black suit and eventually kills
both of his mentors, blows up his daughter's home planet and chops
off his son's hand only to be eventually killed by that same son.
Now that's compelling! Anyway, this is the one that ties it all together,
and as such really zooms along and brings everything to a head. In
comparison, the first two films are pathetic attempts to entertain
the kiddies and rake in a couple hundred million on the way to the
real stuff. There is no doubt that this is the darkest of the Star
Wars films--even more so than The
Empire Strikes Back, which previously held that title. The
fact that it garnered that bizzaro PG-13 rating (something that has
made very little sense to me since its inception with Dreamscape)
is an indication that something is up on the Skywalker Ranch. What's
up is a movie with some balls--for once. Lucas finally let down his
guard and decided to kick some ass and get dark. The image that sticks
with me is the half-charred body of Anakin with his bloody stumps
crawling up the bank of a volcanic hill while he screams in agony.
This isn't Jar Jar, my friend. Then there's the half-humanoid thing,
General Grievous. He's like the way cooler version of Boba Fett who
can use two lightsabers at once and drive some sort of giant wheel
thing that reminded me of the inflatable hamster wheel that Richard
Pryor tries out in the department store in The
Toy. That vehicle, along with many others in the movie, are
some of the best they've come up with yet. I can't believe there are
people out there whose job it is to dream up awesome futuristic space
ships and have them appear in living color on screens across the planet.
Despite their cool rockets, and blazing lightsabers, everyone in this
movie seems pissed off about something. Even Yoda seems to lose his
cool at times. The movie is no without its flaws, though. Every time
Portman comes on the screen an audible groan went through the crowd
(despite seeing the movie for free). Her scenes are seriously cringe-worthy.
She's always pining away for Anakin, and lets loose one of the worst
lines in all of movie history: "Hold me, Ani! Hold me, like you
did by the lake on Naboo!" After that, it was over for her. She's
the new Jar Jar, the singing ewok. Luckily Ewan McGregor picks it
up in this film, channeling Alec Guinness and bringing back the sly
wit and subtle power that had been missing from any of the characters
in the first two disasters. He's still no Harrison Ford, but Han Solo
is a tough act to follow--uh, precede--you know what I mean. There's
also a very Frankensteinian moment with Darth Vader that had to make
Lucas' people wince when they watched it in its early iteration. Of
course being his own boss, Lucas is still blind to some of his own
deficiencies, as that scene alone almost sunk the whole movie for
me. It was really, really amateurish. I decided to be a Star Wars
loyalist and forgive that one giant indiscretion (and the several
other icky dialogues) in favor of the happy feeling of childhood that
snuck into my gut as the closing blue credits graced the screen. It
was a great way to finish up the series, but only now am I scrambling
for more. Damn. [screening]
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