and not a very good one at that
The whole Star Wars thing has finally spiraled down into its inevitable conclusion, which is to say, we're back to James Earl Jones and a nasty respiratory condition, Luke on Tatooine, Leia on Alderaan, and John Williams' gentler score. That's all that matters because all the loose ends are tied neatly, waiting for us to time travel back to the seventies and see the original all over again.
But shouldn't a film be more than just a method to tie up loose ends? Shouldn't it be a satisfying whole that just happens to also tie up loose ends? As I watched Episode III, all I could think was "convenient progression". There's a massive battleship that looks like an earlier version of the ones in the first film. There's a fighter ship that looks like a prototype of a tie fighter - and sounds like it, too. There's an Alderaanian ship - which looks just like the very first thing we see in the original. Go into hiding, say you? Like to Dagobah, mean you? Molten lava scars that will turn into the slightly more healed versions we see at the end of Return of The Jedi? Yay, Neosporin! Leia safely in the arms of the Organas, Luke at dusty home with Owen and Beru. Obi-Wan, soon to become Old Ben, going off to the hills. And, as stated, James Earl Jones' delightfully nostalgic timber emanating from that damn helmet.
To say that III was better than I or II is too easy, because even Return of The Jedi was a disappointment as far as storytelling goes. Only the scenes between Luke, his dad and the Emperor have much that resonates. And blaming the Ewoks is a little easy, too. Fact is, the fun kind of leeched out of the series the moment The Empire Strikes Back turned dark, which was not a bad thing, but after that moment, anything that would have been fun turned silly or cloying. And the series became less about the joy of serialized adventure and more about serialized discussion. For every solid scene of action in Episodes I, II and III, there are two or three scenes of talk, often badly written, and about things that really, we already get. Or just performed by people who aren't terribly good at it, or are very good but seem awkward in their roles. Guys like Liam Neeson, Ewan MacGregor and even Samuel L. Jackson, who are powerhouse dramatic actors in their own rights, seem like stiffs when placed in the skins of George Lucas' characters. Then there are questionable choices like Hayden Christensen, who is simply a bad actor, and does the whole scenario no favors.
To view the artistic and dramatic failure that is The Phenomenon is to view George Lucas. On the one hand, the emperor not only doesn't have any clothes, he hasn't that much raw material to start with. So Lucas begins by picking up his tale in the middle, where the most fun (and don't forget the serial aspect of the first film, dead-on, is what drove both the newness and the nostalgia of it all) was to be had. But once done with a reasonable storyline, how does he back up and give it origins? My guess is that Lucas never really had the first three chapters very well thought out when he made the original films, and came to find that he had to create a whole lot of stuff to get started again. But he forgot all about the imminent joy (perhaps because of the serialization) of the first film, going instead for a more political tale. It was no longer Death Stars R Us, but instead All The Chancellor's Men. It became treatise and allegory, dry and displeasing. And if it's true that Lucas was making a direct jab at George W. Bush with a few scenes of us-or-them proselytizing, he really chose the wrong format for democratic debate. I don't think the average filmgoer wants to know your feelings on the real world's problems when you're telling such a basic fantasy story. We don't go to Star Wars movies for messages, because we know all about good vs. evil, and we're aware that good is the right one. But in 1977, Lucas promised us something fun. And the fun was forgotten somewhere along the way, while too many oddly shaped creatures were being dreamed up and too many CG effects were being thrown at the story in greater and greater volume, until there was so much busy work involved that a coherent story that was enjoyable was all but erased, as easily as Lucas made changes in recent DVD releases, replacing certain actors with their current counterparts.
Does this make me upset? Not really. It's summertime, and all the blockbuster action epics are coming at us. Batman Begins looks superior, and The War of The Worlds could be great. But it is a little sad, because what started out as a very cool thing has become kind of an unfortunate obligation. When the most enjoyment gained from your film is the introduction of that with which we are already very familiar, then I think the point of fun has been missed. And after all, it should be fun, if nothing else.
It's just a movie.
But shouldn't a film be more than just a method to tie up loose ends? Shouldn't it be a satisfying whole that just happens to also tie up loose ends? As I watched Episode III, all I could think was "convenient progression". There's a massive battleship that looks like an earlier version of the ones in the first film. There's a fighter ship that looks like a prototype of a tie fighter - and sounds like it, too. There's an Alderaanian ship - which looks just like the very first thing we see in the original. Go into hiding, say you? Like to Dagobah, mean you? Molten lava scars that will turn into the slightly more healed versions we see at the end of Return of The Jedi? Yay, Neosporin! Leia safely in the arms of the Organas, Luke at dusty home with Owen and Beru. Obi-Wan, soon to become Old Ben, going off to the hills. And, as stated, James Earl Jones' delightfully nostalgic timber emanating from that damn helmet.
To say that III was better than I or II is too easy, because even Return of The Jedi was a disappointment as far as storytelling goes. Only the scenes between Luke, his dad and the Emperor have much that resonates. And blaming the Ewoks is a little easy, too. Fact is, the fun kind of leeched out of the series the moment The Empire Strikes Back turned dark, which was not a bad thing, but after that moment, anything that would have been fun turned silly or cloying. And the series became less about the joy of serialized adventure and more about serialized discussion. For every solid scene of action in Episodes I, II and III, there are two or three scenes of talk, often badly written, and about things that really, we already get. Or just performed by people who aren't terribly good at it, or are very good but seem awkward in their roles. Guys like Liam Neeson, Ewan MacGregor and even Samuel L. Jackson, who are powerhouse dramatic actors in their own rights, seem like stiffs when placed in the skins of George Lucas' characters. Then there are questionable choices like Hayden Christensen, who is simply a bad actor, and does the whole scenario no favors.
To view the artistic and dramatic failure that is The Phenomenon is to view George Lucas. On the one hand, the emperor not only doesn't have any clothes, he hasn't that much raw material to start with. So Lucas begins by picking up his tale in the middle, where the most fun (and don't forget the serial aspect of the first film, dead-on, is what drove both the newness and the nostalgia of it all) was to be had. But once done with a reasonable storyline, how does he back up and give it origins? My guess is that Lucas never really had the first three chapters very well thought out when he made the original films, and came to find that he had to create a whole lot of stuff to get started again. But he forgot all about the imminent joy (perhaps because of the serialization) of the first film, going instead for a more political tale. It was no longer Death Stars R Us, but instead All The Chancellor's Men. It became treatise and allegory, dry and displeasing. And if it's true that Lucas was making a direct jab at George W. Bush with a few scenes of us-or-them proselytizing, he really chose the wrong format for democratic debate. I don't think the average filmgoer wants to know your feelings on the real world's problems when you're telling such a basic fantasy story. We don't go to Star Wars movies for messages, because we know all about good vs. evil, and we're aware that good is the right one. But in 1977, Lucas promised us something fun. And the fun was forgotten somewhere along the way, while too many oddly shaped creatures were being dreamed up and too many CG effects were being thrown at the story in greater and greater volume, until there was so much busy work involved that a coherent story that was enjoyable was all but erased, as easily as Lucas made changes in recent DVD releases, replacing certain actors with their current counterparts.
Does this make me upset? Not really. It's summertime, and all the blockbuster action epics are coming at us. Batman Begins looks superior, and The War of The Worlds could be great. But it is a little sad, because what started out as a very cool thing has become kind of an unfortunate obligation. When the most enjoyment gained from your film is the introduction of that with which we are already very familiar, then I think the point of fun has been missed. And after all, it should be fun, if nothing else.
It's just a movie.
posted by scn at 9:27 AM
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