A bit ridiculous, though never boring

Rating: 8/10 (26 June 1999)

In 1977, legendary film critic Pauline Kael remarked that "Star Wars" was essentially a box of Cracker Jacks filled with nothing but the prizes.
It is 1999, and George Lucas has presented us with the results of his return to the artificial, nameless galaxy of his imagination. It has been preceded by the most alarming amount of hype and media frenzy since "Gone With the Wind" was released in 1939. It is called "Star Wars: Episode One - The Phantom Menace."
It has been observed that the venom with which most critics attack a film increases in direct proportion to its overall success. This is true; one would be hard-pressed to find anyone who will say anything nice about "Titanic" or "Forrest Gump" these days, whether it be on the Internet, in the newsroom, or out on the street. Who gave these films a combined total of seventeen Oscars and nearly two billion dollars in worldwide grosses? Ghosts, I guess.
The fashionable thing for people and critics to do is to reject popular things, but only after "everyone else" has seen it and praised it. I've seen it happen dozens of times, to dozens of films. There were the two aforementioned Best Picture awardees, the trilogy in question, "Jerry Maguire," "Pulp Fiction," and "Saving Private Ryan," just to name a few. A skillfully crafted, well-liked, popular motion picture usually goes by a set timeline: First, it is released, accompanied by unusually positive word of mouth from preview audiences. It gets raves from most critics (though not always), has either a big opening or solid staying power. It garners a huge number of fans, collects a number of year-end awards, and becomes tiresome to everyone. Finally, it comes out on video. By that time, roughly, most folks are saying (honestly or not), that they "never really liked [insert title here] anyway."
It's fashionable for contemporary movie critics to say that they "never really caught on to the whole 'Star Wars' thing." They'll say it was and still is nerd territory, intended for no mature person over thirteen years of age. I guess I'm a nerd, or I need to check my birth certificate. The "Star Wars" trilogy was an important part of my cultural education as a young child, along with "He-Man", the Transformers, and MTV. My parents bought me a majority of the "Star Wars" action figures, though most of them lay in ruin as a result of the many long, drawn-out skirmishes with G.I. Joe. Since those days I have outgrown the toys, increased my artistic repertoire somewhat by going out of my way to rent lesser-known foreign films, art films, and independent films. Today, however, whether I'm viewing the trilogy as a whole or just catching a glimpse of it in the electronics section of a department store, they still make me smile. I am still impressed with the seemingly ageless special effects, and the undeniable skill Lucas has as a storyteller and purveyor of fantastic imagery. I still find myself laughing at the bits of humor sprinkled throughout the series, however goofy they may be (I believe "scruffy looking nerf-herder" was one of the insults Princess Leia hurls at Han Solo). I still find myself enveloped in its wholly original stories. All in all, I still love the "Star Wars" series.
Thus, I proudly counted myself as one of those who eagerly awaited seeing "The Phantom Menace." It's not a date move, and I didn't take a girl to it (that's why they make movies like "You've Got Mail" or "Good Will Hunting"). It's a nerd movie, yes, it's a sci-fi geek movie, this is true, but there's more. A lot more. It brings out the nerd, the sci-fi geek that lies dormant within all of us, and makes us grateful for the fact that someone in the world hasn't forgotten how to give us a good show.
The number one reason people have given for wanting to see the film: to see what happens. It's that simple. They wanted to see what new Star Wars stuff is going on. It's like the season premiere of a really, really, really popular television series. They wanted to see what Anakin Skywalker was like when he was six (or eight or ten or whatever). They wanted to see him before that fateful day when he got up on the dark side of the bed, went down to the local magistrate's office, and changed his name to Darth Vader. They wanted to see Obi-Wan Kenobi when he was in his mid-to-late twenties. They wanted to see Natalie Portman now that she's no longer a minor. They wanted to see Yoda, Senator (soon to be promoted) Palpatine, Qui-Gon Jinn, C-3PO, and R2-D2. They wanted to see Darth Maul with his cool double lightsaber, and that big pod race everyone's been talking about. They wanted to get away, for at least two hours, from their places of work, from hearing more about the whole Kosovo brouhaha, and -- God help us -- another royal wedding. To quote Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times, they wanted to see "amazing sights, real big and loud, one right after the other."
That's the attitude I took with me when I walked in to see "The Phantom Menace." To begin with, I'd like to get a few of the drawbacks out of the way, so I can say afterwards how much I liked the film. The first disappointment is John Williams' score. One of our greatest modern composers, especially of late with his work for Spielberg's "Amistad" and "Saving Private Ryan," he never quite measures up to the legacy he created for the original "Star Wars" films. The soundtrack is a disorganized, jumbled mess. It's a long train of John Williams-style, orchestral sound effects competing with the already overabundant sound effects of the movie itself. Only the section which backs the climactic lightsaber duel matches the exhilarating majesty of his best "Star Wars" compositions: the famous opening, Darth Vader's dum-dum-de-dum theme, or the chilling Wagnerian music that went along with Lando Calrissian leading the rebel assault at the climax of "Return of the Jedi" (my personal favorite). It's probably sacrilege to suggest that the Williams, a staunch symphonic orchestra devotee, ought to use a synthesizer next time, or that Lucas might sign on Massive Attack or Radiohead to put together the score for Episode II and III. Then again, the rest of the movie is computer generated, why not the soundtrack?
Second casualty, the film's pacing. It's been twenty-two years since Lucas sat in the director's chair, and he is bound to have forgotten a few things. Alfred Hitchcock once spoke of the infinite possibility of images to communicate ideas and story elements, where spoken words would be too awkward and take too long. The cast spends too much time saying things like "so-and-so, I'd like you to meet so-and-so" and "all right, everybody, this is what happened, this is what we plan to do next." I thought that if, instead of the usual opening scrawl to explain the film's premise, we had a chalkboard to illustrate the plays and the character relations, we'd be better off. The movie, after all is said and done, is really just a bunch of set pieces, with in-between bits for the plot to be explained and Subtle References to the follow-on trilogy.
But what set pieces they are! The clamor everyone's made about the high-speed pod race is completely justified. It's as thrilling as those nine-minute IMAX rides, minus the moving seats and the silly headgear. The obligatory fights with faceless foot soldiers (in this case, skeletal droids) move faster and are more fun than the battles with the old Stormtroopers. They're awful fighters, those warrior robots, but they're a great visual asset; the shot (digital, of course) of hordes of them in formation is quite a spectacle to behold. The climax, which has Lucas juggling no less than four simultaneous action sequences -- 1) little Anakin's sortie in and around the orbiting Trade Federation headquarters, 2) Queen Amidala and her entourage's assault on the Naboo capital palace, 3) the epic battle (shades of "Braveheart") between the amphibious gungans and the divisions of soldier droids, and 4) the duel between Qui-Jon, Obi-Wan, and Darth Maul -- gives the audience members exactly what they came for: an eye-popping visual feast, at breakneck speed.
The much-maligned acting job is much better than expected. Critics have called Jake Lloyd a cocky little brat. There's a reason for this: he's playing a cocky little brat. In interviews Lloyd has displayed an astounding amount of intelligence for his age, similar to the teenage Mickey Rooney and Shirley Temple. Seen in this light, his performance exudes confidence and professionalism -- rare for child actors, even today. Ewan McGregor isn't given much to do, which is a shame: after seeing him tear up the screen as the addict/delinquent Renton in "Trainspotting," the unwillingness of Lucas to let him cut loose is disappointing. He handles what he is given very well, however. Natalie Portman is luminous in her role as Queen Amidala, managing to show tenderness and warmth despite a number of massive costumes and hair arrangements. Liam Neeson lends authority to his Qui-Gon character, but the real stand-out of the cast is Ian McDiarmid as Senator Palpatine. The only actor who plays the same role in all four films (unless you count Frank Oz's voice for Yoda), he's also the only one who's allowed to be subtle, sophisticated, and therefore he steals any scenes he's in.
The film's sly humor is another plus, though it's not as zany or clever as anything in "The Fifth Element" or your average "Star Trek" movie. There's a silly exchange between Qui-Gon and an alien, airborne slave-driver that provided the biggest laugh out of the entire film. Jar Jar Binks was thought by some to be a grating annoyance, but an equal number found his comic relief to be very welcome. In particular, his endless mishaps (doing more good than harm) during the climactic battle scene are straight out of old Buster Keaton silent comedies.
The film ends, of course, ready for Episode II to be latched in place of the closing credits. The original "Star Wars" movies could stand by themselves -- all you needed was a quick run-down of who's who and what happened in the last one, and you were good to go -- so "The Phantom Menace" loses a few points by being a two hour plus trailer for the next episode. So what? All in all, it packs a punch and gives us our money's worth. It may be a Cracker Jack box with just the prizes inside, but they're pretty terrific prizes.