A movie which doesn't exist by itself, for itself.

Rating: 5/10 (16 November 2002)

I always start bad reviews by: What went wrong with this movie? I then scratch my head, wondering between theories and assumptions. In this case, with so many different factors leaping at me, I don't know where to start.
Still, what is the dominant cause: is it the fact that the `romance' between Padmé and our young Jedi bubbles as much chemistry as a glass of flat water? Is it that the narrative is about as dead as a dry branch? Or is it that you feel that the movie is coming with its own Cliff Notes, trying to explain too much what it's incapable of expanding in film form? The overall impression is of somebody trying very hard to explicate a tedious joke.
What the production ultimately suffers is its sense of obligation to justify the future, notably Episodes IV to VI; it appears that the movie doesn't exist for itself, by itself, but to validate the impending (and already shown since 1976, then unavoidable) denouement, hence its Cliff Notes feeling and awkward and artificial pace and rhythm. Attempting to bring some narrative stride to the movie, the embarrassing `parallel' editing between romantic Nabu and Obi-Wan Kenobi's mission to Camino is gauche and clumsy, showing as much professionalism and sense of timing as first-time comedian or less excitement than a wall calendar.
From the moment Senator Padmé's ship lands, we feel the burden the movie places on itself to explain the next few episodes. Her dealings with the Senate seem a waste of time to them and us, only to have Palpatine request Anakin Skywalker to protect her. Anybody who hasn't suspected that Palpatine could in fact be the future Emperor, I have a golden bridge to sell you. It's even in the credits, so why the pseudo air of mystery? The two Jedis go on caring for our young Senator only as a silly motive for a visually good pursuit in the sky of the city. And so goes the rest of the movie: any dead time's raison d'être is to build up a battle, a fight, etc. Lucas is good at that, but I disagree with the people who claim he is still erecting a saga, a folktale or a legend: he did that a quarter of a century ago, he's explaining it to us now in case we didn't get it.
When it comes to actor direction, George Lucas didn't write the book, he didn't even read it. Seasoned thespians can pull it out, like Samuel L. Jackson or Christopher Lee (they've seen and worked with worse!). But younger performers have a harder time not being supervised, as demonstrated by Natalie Portman's very dull routine, or Hayden Christensen's relatively overexcited act. In his case, though, it is appropriate at times and altogether believable, his intense personification of Anakin earning him applause and making him one of the only actors in this production deserving his salary and our praises. He fights to create personae, a character out of a lifeless script, and he merits our high regards for it. To defend Portman, her character exists for no other reason than to substantiate Christensen's character; unfortunately, her lack of experience shows and her disappointing interpretation suits the rest of the movie.
Of course we could make a point of talking about the ambiguous ending, with the future Emperor telling the Duke that everything is going according to plan. This finale is plainly out of touch with the tone of the rest of the movie, which is too simplistic to come up with such a conclusion. But at least it makes us reflect
Obviously, as usual in a production like this (sigh) the chase scenes, the combat sequences and Yoda's handling of the light saber are probably worth the price of admission (or of rental), but the filmmakers were too inept at filling up the in-between scenes, showing a sense of uneasiness combining disparate patches of action together: the fight and battle sections blend inadequately and maladroitly with the rest of the plot, making Attack of the Clones a good video game background matte and little else.