MY REVENGE OF THE SITH REVIEW

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Here's what I wrote last night at 4:00am... I'll take this as my starting point:

"I've seen it. And I am still in shock. It's... A lot.

This is going to be controversial -- and I mean beyond the geek contingent. George has thrown a rock at a very stingy hornet's nest, and... Where's it going to drop?

The story arc, while forced, was genuinely compelling for much, maybe most, of the film. The one scene we've waited for since the ROTJ novel -- is truly horrifying (intentionally). There are scenes that are ruined -- and I blame bad direction. George cannot direct. It's a job that he needs to let go of -- he did well when he passed it off to others for Empire & Jedi. There's a scene with pretty amazing symbolism. And there's a scene that I thought was pretty gutsy. And there's a scene that is unforgivable.

...And I am still in shock. My heart and head feel like they've been put through a blender. This, after 15 hours in line (which has its own fair share of stories to relate), leaves me with a headache and nearly unable to speak.

But the real question is: What does this mean for me? Star Wars is about an arc in my life, and nostalgia, and my family history, and a mythos deeply ingrained into who I am. How is this ending going to be integrated?

Who am I now?"

TRULY HORRIFYING

The image that is burned into my brain is Vader with his legs chopped off and on fire, squirming next to the lava. It was truly horrifying. It was more gruesome than the infamous scene in "Temple of Doom" that inspired the PG-13 rating in the first place. It was more gruesome than seeing Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru's burnt corpses on Tatooine. It reminded me of some of the shots in "Volcano" -- which I suppose is only natural.

I've advised my brother that my niece, who he's taking to see Ep III today, not be shown this particular scene. ...I'm not typically one to keep kids away from scary movies -- but this one scene is such material for nightmares, it seems like an exception. I recall when Z went to see "Two Towers" with us, she had her hands over her eyes for much of the big battle. That suggests to me that she probably isn't going to welcome having this image in her head. [I think I'll have enough problems personally, managing this memory's existence in my mind...]

I'm going to have to warn my mother, too, who has no stomach for tense movies -- but always made an exception for Star Wars previously, because lasers were different -- they cauterize.

Is this horrifying scene appropriate? Mostly I think so. It's true to the character of Darth Vader as we understand him in the original trilogy. He has to be burned -- that's not really something you can, or should, sugarcoat. I think it probably is the central image that's supposed to be burned into my brain (no pun intended), epitomizing Vader's character. The image of him burning is symbolically Vader being consumed by his own hatred; I get that. Even so, there's still 15% of me that feels like this shot doesn't belong in a Star Wars movie. Ep I felt so dumbed down -- with Ani asking "are you an angel?" and what not -- it almost feels like George is overcompensating: going from gum drop gooey G-rated material to mind-searing PG-13 stuff.

SCENES THAT ARE RUINED

The end of the movie shows us the scenes that we need to see. They are the right shots to conclude the movie -- but they are horribly bungled in terms of execution. I believe in this case it's not the result of bad writing, it's purely a matter of direction.

When we see Vader put into his mask, and rise up from the operating table, there is a blatant visual reference to Frankenstein's monster rising from the slab. That's OK. But Vader's helmet wiggles. And this being, who managed to stay alive through being utterly burned (because of the power of the Dark Side, I'll presume), seems like a gawky, awkward teenager inside the costume. Darth has no gravitas. ...I can see how this is probably supposed to be Darth's last moment of humanity -- but even so, he has no stage presence. When he rises from the slab, it's perfectly acceptable for him to ask about Padme; but this is the birth of Darth Vader: he has to have a stillness and looming strength to him -- and that is totally missing.

If Darth has sold his soul, then he has to believe in what he has done, have a sense of resolve, that it was worth it -- before the crushing blow arrives, that it was all for nothing. This is not the moment for Darth to seem shaky and uncertain. I think George underestimated the extent to which we've loved and identified with Darth Vader all along -- we didn't need a final glimpse of Anakin. He "died" back when he made his deal with the devil, and we can feel compassion for him here at the end, just the same.

Besides the utter lack of gravitas, the Darth Vader suit just didn't look right. It's clean and fresh and new -- I get that. But when we get the "pay off" shot for these six movies -- Vader rising up -- what went through my head was: "this reminds me of a new car commercial". Personally, I think most of went wrong with regards to this point was a matter of lighting. Remember the carbonite freezing room on Bespin? We needed atmosphere more like that. Instead we got bright white light and one awkwardly placed smoke machine. This scene had to be magic -- and it felt like hack work.

But lack of gravitas and atmosphere merely disappoint -- what truly ruins the scene is when Vader screams "noooooo!". The audience broke out laughing. You could tell that folks were trying to stifle their giggles. But if the most loyal of loyal fans are laughing at the cliche, you've royally screwed up. And at the worst possible moment.

A SCENE THAT IS UNFORGIVABLE

Padme dying in childbirth. First of all, this is a sexist cliche of the film industry. This is a long-standing thorn in J's side -- her being a midwife -- and I'm right there with her in irritation. The frequency with which women have problematic births in the movies, or die in childbirth, is ridiculous. If you believe Hollywood, then you would think that birth is this horribly dangerous medical emergency, at least 50 percent of the time. It's a myth that fuels our society's persistent "doctors, not mothers, should be in control of birth" belief system. It should be unacceptable at this point to casually throw a mother dying in childbirth into a movie. If she's going to die in childbirth, then explain exactly what the complications are -- do your research.

[...It's sort of like having women faint in movies -- the historical roots of which have to do with corsets making it impossible to breath. If a female character isn't wearing a corset, then you've got no grounds for having her faint.]

Oh, but George couldn't even come up with something as plausible as "complications at birth" (which wouldn't have been very plausible anyway, given the medical science of the Republic). No, she simply "lost the will to live". What?!? That's outrageous. It's unbelievable. It's unforgivable.

Padme's last lines might as well have been "I die -- I die because it is convenient to the plot!"

PRETTY GUTSY

The scene that most impressed me was not a big battle scene. It was the interview between Yoda and Anakin.

...It's not very credible that Yoda -- who can sense what's going on with Anakin when he's light years away -- would fall for this sit-com malarky of "it's not about me, I'm asking for a... friend." [Yoda would totally see through that.] ...But the interview was gripping enough that you can overlook this detail.

We love the Force. This religion has been something that a generation has looked to as -- well, nearly legitimate. [Which is why the notion of "midichlorians" was a knife in the heart.] In Ep I, one of the better lines is when Yoda talks about how "fear leads to hate, hate leads to suffering". In Ep III, Yoda takes us farther into the Jedi faith, explaining that loss is inevitable -- and so to avoid the path of greed and jealousy, we must prepare ourselves to let go of the things we care about most. I was impressed.

This is essentially a Buddhist line of argument. We've known that George has had an interest in Buddhism all along. But this talk about non-attachment is pretty hardcore stuff. I don't think I've heard it in a movie before -- and I thought it was pretty compelling. In terms of offering the U.S. spiritual guidance -- which is part of what we (or I) want -- I'm damn pleased. It would have been nice if this teaching hadn't been so buried in scene after scene of battle -- but if the global community of fans were to take this piece of thinking to heart, I'd very interested to see how we all evolve culturally. Unfortunately, I think that this scene's importance will be overwhelmed by the weight of the second trilogy's disappointments.

I'm really transfixed by how George summed up non-attachment for us -- it actually reminds me very much of the lecture that Cornel West gave at Reed College this spring, where he argued that we must love our communities so much that we are willing to die for them. Still, there are two things that undercut the message that I have to mention.

First of all, in Yoda's non-attachment speech, he also says something about how death is the way of things, and that we should embrace it as a beautiful part of life. I'm not sure whether or not George intended it, but this made me think about the "right to die" and "death with dignity" movements. The point makes sense in terms of Yoda trying to tell Anakin that he can't try to make Padme live forever. However, in the grander context, I'm not sure I'm onboard with the Jedi master on this one...

It may in part be because J told me about the recent Oscar-winner "Million Dollar Baby" just before Ep III started. I haven't seen it myself, but the way it's described to me, a strong female boxer becomes a quadriplegic, feels that she's nothing if she can't box, and has her lover help her commit suicide -- which is apparently viewed as a noble thing, which audiences are going crazy for. Me, my sensitivity on this issue comes from connection to a woman with a degenerative disease who uses a wheelchair -- and through her, to the organized people with disabilities movement. When I hear able-bodied people talk about how they'd prefer to die if they ever get a disability, rather than live on with a lowered quality of life, it makes me a bit furious. Cowards -- live on! There's an uncomfortable implication that people with disabilities would be better off if they were euthanized, or if they were uniformly aborted before being born. This is closer to the Nazi cult of the perfect body than most people would believe...

Anyway, I support "death with dignity" -- but not the chickenshit notion that life at a lowered quality of living is not worthwhile. I am not in the "pro-life" camp, and strongly disagree with their philosophies -- but I nonetheless feel life is worth fighting for. It's subtle, but my sense is that Yoda's statements embrace the naturalness of death in a way that doesn't distinguish between going when your times up and "death's OK, embrace it". [This sense that "death is just OK" is exacerbated by Padme appearing to die for no reason at all.]

The second thing that seems to undercut the spiritual force (no pun) of Yoda's non-attachment speech is that at the end of the movie, he tells Obi-Wan to commune with the spirit of dead Qui-Gon, who has discovered the secret to living forever.

What?!? George, are you saying that the reason it's OK to embrace death is because we all become angels? Because death is just an illusion, and we'll actually live on forever? Noooo!

George clearly likes consistency. To the extent that he has gone back and re-edited the original trilogy -- twice! -- to make it more consistent with the second trilogy. He had to have Boba Fett and Jabba appear; he had to insert shots of the imperial shuttle design we see in ROTJ into Ep IV and Ep V; he had to replace the ghost of old Vader with young Anakin at the end of ROTJ. ...So, I can see how he's trying to tie up loose ends here. Why don't all of the fallen Jedi become ghosts? Because ethereal immortality is a new knowledge, procured by Qui-Gon.

Um, but it still doesn't make sense. The way I interpret the end of the movie, Palpatine was lying when he said he knows how to achieve immortality -- it's a matter that will require study. Surprise, surprise: it's actually the good Jedi who have access to this secret. But if that's so, then why is Anakin able to show up as a ghost at the end of ROTJ at all? We presumed previously that it was because "only good Jedi go to heaven" -- and that this allowed to him to get ghosty now, because he had been redeemed. [How? By having a pure spirit suddenly?] But if entry into a ghostly afterlife is learned knowledge... Well, it's just about as bad as trying to explain the force via "midichlorians".

And, the more I think about it, the more pissed off I am that the non-attachment speech is undercut by this "don't fear death... because you'll go to heaven!" logic. Crap.

PRETTY AMAZING SYMBOLISM

I was impressed by the confrontation between Palpatine and Yoda where the Emperor is actually throwing the chairs of the senate at the Jedi. It's blatant, I know. But it's a powerful image nonetheless.

A NEST OF HORNETS

...This ties into what I was saying about George throwing a rock at a nest of hornets.

Palpatine is George Bush II. Duh.

George Lucas has had the outline for Ep III sitting around since 1977. We know this. So Palpatine wasn't originally intended to be Bush. ...And as you'll recall, Ep I came out in 1999 -- before September 11th changed our world. But Lucas has seized upon the current political situation -- which makes Ep III both more and less powerful.

Ep III is more real because Lucas is mapping the Star Wars universe directly onto current political events in the U.S. But making Star Wars into a contemporary political allegory also steals from the universality (a la "Hero of a Thousand Faces") that we loved in the original trilogy. Frankly, as I was walking out of the theater, one of the thoughts foremost in my mind was "Oh geez -- Lucas has really stepped in it now". I'm worried and anxious about how conservatives in the U.S. -- both at the local and Washington level -- are going to receive Ep III. It's *so* not veiled. I can't help but think that Lucas is going to be compared to Roger Moore (of "Fahrenheit 9/11") in terms of his shameless Lefty opinionation.

On the one hand: yay! Big money George Lucas has spoken out, in no uncertain terms, on the world stage against the Bush regime. On the other hand: part of me still remembers Lucas as my "alma pater" and fears for him, the backlash he's going to suffer. I think there's also some grief that Star Wars, my happy place, my escapist fantasy -- has just been dashed against the rocks of reality. In this case I don't feel like blaming Lucas; it feels more like reality has finally raped my precious fantasy world. [And "rape" is not a word that I use lightly.]

Ironically, at the premiere I met an old political buddy handing out snazzy fliers, titled "Sith Happens", with the Ep III movie poster edited to have Bush's head in the place of Palpatine's, and other Bush admin personalities similarly pasted in. What my friend couldn't have known was that Lucas had already done this work for him. Rather than being a parody of Ep III, the flyer accurately captures what Lucas was going for this time.

Lucas has been building up to this -- but it's still something of an outburst. In Ep I one of the villains is named "Nute Gunray" -- an obvious reference to Newt Gingrich and Ronald Reagan. [Lucas is known to have been angered by Reagan's appropriation of Star Wars to name his "Star Wars missile defense system".] In Ep II, Obi-Wan speaks almost to the audience about how politicians are not to be trusted, that 'in his experience' they are manipulative liars.

...But in Ep III, there's no doubt that Lucas is making a frontal attack on Bush. The script uses every phrase except "homeland security", dancing around the actual term, but making itself utterly clear. And then the final scathing criticism: this is how democracy dies -- to the sound of applause. Ouch. Wow. Oh my gawd. I can't believe you actually said that, Lucas. Right on! ...And, uh-oh -- this is going to have repercussions.

Weird. I just had a flashback to Frank Miller's "Dark Knight" comics... The bit about an old grizzled Batman organizing all of the apathetic punks into an army... Can you do it, George? Can you galvanize this generation against the tyrant? Or is it too late, because the U.S. is polarized beyond repair now? Which will be stronger among the rank and file Republicans: loyalty to Bush and Jesus -- or loyalty to Star Wars? Do the conservative audience members, even with their politics, have the heart to call *you*, alma pater, a lying liberal?

There's another reaction here that I need to confess. Part of me doesn't want Lucas to be taking a stand. Part of me wants the fantasy to remain pure. It's a thought I could allow myself to harbor, were I able to maintain a view of Star Wars as a purely artistic creation. From that point of view, I could say that universality has been weakened by commenting on current events. But I can't maintain such a view. Star Wars is a phenomenon. That in itself may not mean that Lucas should use it as a bully pulpit. But Star Wars is both phenomenon and morality tale. So many of us have looked to the Jedi religion for advice on how to live our lives. In that context, I can see how Lucas is almost obligated to break the fourth wall -- tell the fans that escapism is not the way of the force.

Yet, here's the reaction I that I feel a bit ashamed of. The escapist in me resents Lucas for airing his opinions. You can't help but perceive that Lucas is angry. Which is, y'know... The Dark Side. [It's a very owning-class reaction: to condemn all anger. I don't want to see that thought in myself.]

NIT-PICKING

OK, back to talking about Ep III as art. [And back to the convention of referring to Lucas as "George", now that Bush is no longer part of the context.]

The last shot of the movie was the right shot to choose. Staring at the sunset on Tatooine evoked the words "A New Hope" in my mind. Which is exactly what I should be thinking. But the shot wasn't held for long enough. The credits and end theme music popped up too soon -- I needed to sit there a few beats longer, contemplating what this whole saga meant.

The opening sequence, beginning in space -- as we always do -- but this time in a battle, which is where we usually end the movie: good choice. The opening scroll for Ep II says that there are "thousands" of separatist worlds -- which seems implausible. Opening on the battle helps bring home Yoda's last words in Ep II, "begun, the clone war has". [Still, starting out with the two Jedi ships chasing each other playfully didn't amuse me much.]

...I was worried that this opening sequence meant that George was going to try to make this movie the longest, most exciting action sequence of all time -- when what we desperately needed here was heart. In some ways "faster, more intense" and action, action, action does seem to be what George was going for. But at least for me, I think George nevertheless did manage to make Anakin's story compelling -- perhaps despite himself.

My hackles are still up with regards to R2-D2 having little rockets on his legs, and being able to gracefully pop himself out of spaceships unaided. This revision of the Star Wars universe is offensive. Same thing goes for R2 being a bad-ass that can shoot electricity (more than he could in ROTJ when he shot Salacious Crumb) and win battles by igniting oil. This is not the R2 we knew in the original trilogy -- and having these (implausible) powers would seriously change how he would have had to act.

What the heck is Darth Grievous? A wheezing, coughing robot? An flesh-and-blood creature (look at his eyes) that is "more machine than man now" -- perhaps as a means to foreshadow the creation of Darth Vader out of the fried remnants of Anakin? I'm vaguely aware that there is an animated TV show called "The Clone Wars" in which he's a character -- am I supposed to understand Grievous because I've seen that (which I haven't)? And if Darth Grievous is really a Darth, then how does that jibe with the "there can only be two Sith at any time" line? Grievous and Tyrannus coexist during the same time period -- which seems to suggest that we've got three Sith on the loose.

In the first battle of the movie, R2-D2 is goofy. There's that whole bit about the com-link somehow being amplified over loud speakers. And when R2-D2 pops his antenna out of the pile of broken droids, that's meant for laughs. I don't like it. But then, George has a penchant for goofy -- you just have to live with it. At least it wasn't nearly so painful as the indignities that he put C3PO through in the Geonosis battle in Ep II. That was, and remains, really unforgivable: carelessly tossing around a character we love, dismembering him, and giving him pun after pun, for very, very cheap laughs.

The lizard thing that Obi-Wan rides. George: it's just not credible that you can grab any animal in the galaxy and with no prior experience make it your mount. Recently, I've even been struggling with taun-tauns. How did the rebels domesticate them so quickly? Dewbacks I'm more forgiving of -- I figure that in A New Hope, there were two sets of stormtroopers collaborating: a local team who've been stationed on Tatooine for a long time, and a group that has just shuttled down from the star destroyer. The beasts of burden that we see Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan ride on Tatooine in Ep I are also forgivable: they move slowly, and are plausibly similar to the experience of riding horses. Anakin riding the bull-like creature on Geonosis was a bit hard to swallow -- and it becomes even more so, now that Obi-Wan can suddenly ride a big lizard. The implicit "Jedi can mind-control simple beasts" argument has too many potential consequences to accept easily. [You can't just make up new powers whenever it becomes convenient.]

Having Yoda be friends with the wookies wasn't too bad. We didn't need to see Chewbacca, though. Chewbacca is implied simply by visiting the wookie planet. It's an entirely forgivable instance... But taken along with all the other times when George feels that he has to show the origins of every character, it's less so. George, you've made Star Wars too damn incestuous. It doesn't make sense that Chewbacca has to know Yoda way back when. You shrink the galaxy too much when everyone knows everyone else.

Palpatine wiping out the Jedi by executing order number 66: reasonably plausible, adequately poignant. However, the Jedi fall too easily. Particularly the twilek; she goes without any fight at all! Surprise counts for something -- but these are supposed to be Jedi. You can't shoot *all* of them in the back and get away with it. Some of them have to be adequately precognitive to sense things suddenly going wrong and put up a fight. ...I'm also a little irritated that the order is "66", which I believe to be a sly reference to "666, the number of the beast" -- a Christian reference I really didn't need. Yes, Palpatine is evil. DUH.

The moment where Anakin helps kill Mace Windu, and sells his soul to the Sith... Did it work? As I watched the scene transpiring, I was thinking "this is it -- this is how it happens -- do I buy it?" Well, I... mostly bought it... I guess. It felt like George was really busy trying to get from point A to point B. I think at this point in the movie I opted for a willing suspension of disbelief -- but there was a trace of doubt in me that I can't ignore.

Having Anakin's downfall be his (supposed) love for Padme... Yes, that makes sense. But it feels like George is once again plagiarizing himself, too. In ROTJ, in the duel between Darth and Luke, the turning point is when Vader plays upon Luke's feelings for his sister. Same gag here, but with Padme instead of Leia. Also, in Ep I it looked like Schmi was being set up as Anakin's downfall. That he couldn't let go of her, that was being built up to be the big thing. And in some ways it was -- slaughtering the sand people was an important step in character development. Still, that Anakin can't let go of Padme *either* feels derivative. If Anakin's going to have a tragic flaw that is his downfall, I want it to be either Schmi or Padme -- not both. ...It winds up reading like Anakin's fatal flaw is attachment -- to any woman he gets close to. That's less compelling that a truly special love for either Schmi or Padme.

The dream sequences, where we get to see Padme dying in childbirth... Yes, it was neat to get into a Jedi's head. It was emotionally compelling. But it also felt like it broke the visual style of the saga. We've never been able to see inside people's heads before -- we've always had the point of view of an outside observer. This annoys me similarly to how I'm annoyed about the battle shots on Geonosis in Ep II where there are (simulated) hand-held camera shots of the clone's helicopters. I get it: hand-held cameras communicate frantic battle, and have been used to good effect in other war movies. But just because it's a good trick, doesn't mean that it belongs in Star Wars. Given that those are the only hand-held shots we ever see, they stick out. They don't belong. In some ways, the same applies to the dream sequences... Although, in this case, I think my preference would have been to see dream sequences about Schmi in Ep II as well, rather than eliminate dream sequences altogether. So long as it was only Anakin that we ever saw dream sequences with, a sort of continuity would be preserved.

That, for now, is it. I'll be chewing for some time to come -- but these are my major reactions after my first viewing.

P.S. After my proof-read: The Jedi lost. If Palpatine is George Bush, what are we liberals supposed to think? Give up hope? Wait for Luke to be born? Hm....