1/10
George commits carnal sin-ema
3 May 2005
Warning: Spoilers
Watching episode 2 again after much time of reflection, I still have that nagging feeling. I loved Star Wars as a child, and the original trilogy (not the horrific garbage versions re-released later, I'm talking the real-deal classics selfishly hoarded by Lucasfilms from the video-buying public). Even after six years, I'm still not ready to give up on the new ones....

...until I watch them again.

The questions come falling down like rain; I ask myself about so many things, "why would anyone put this in a film, let alone a Star Wars film?" I mean, let's get serious people: never should any intelligent culture allow a feature film character to say the words "lookee lookee, here'sa comin' Jedi!" The look of the film is crisp, clean, and....utterly lifeless. All I can say for our old pal Yoda (besides "fire your writers," that is) is this: BRING BACK THE PUPPET! The charm of Star Wars is its imagination; its suspension of disbelief. Too many smoke and mirror tricks, and I'm begging for the lights to come back up.

In a mid-eighties interview, Lucas said that without good storytelling, special effects were useless. He was, of course, citing his philosophy in the making of the first trilogy. So....what happened? If ever there was a case of awful writing and misguided effects, this is it.

But to simplify, the real problem lies in this: the new Star Wars simply has no class. None. It's like a two-hour soda commercial. The convenient mid-riff swipe aside (I'm never forgiving you for that, George--you creepy old man, you!) there is awful dialogue, and equally bad delivery. One repeatedly finds oneself thinking, "well, that WOULD have worked, if it had been said/written the right way, not left for 14-year-old nonfiction writers to produce in their basement after a few reruns of Lizzie MacGuire." Or something to that effect. I've heard the excuse that Lucas was writing for a new generation; if he was, he clearly believes them to be a generation of know-nothing idiots. He feeds them scripts with no possible subtext, dialogue as subtle as brick with the word "brick" written on it, and he makes no bones about his monosyllabic intentions.

I could write a short novel about the sins of Natalie Portman alone, but as I have enjoyed her in other films, I assume most of them to be director-inspired ("Hey, could you try to sound like the only member of royalty who feels no need to open her mouth or enunciate? We're going for that 'Godfather' feel.") But I will be satisfied to say, in conclusion, that the new films are perfectly summed up in the C3PO-battle droid mix-up: cheap and confused.
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