CGI = Cast Grossly Inessential

Rating: 5/10 (8 August 2004)

No veteran director ever took young George Lucas aside - no John Huston, or Milos Forman  and advised the neophyte, 'Y'know, George: Less Is More.' Pile upon redundant pile of superfluous computer graphic imagery stuns you into almost not laughing at the ham-handed attempts at characterization and kindergarten dialog in this vacuous corporate merchandising advertisement thinly-disguised as a movie.
Lucas can think up The Tale, but he should leave it up to his buddy Spielberg to *tell* it; envisioning grandiose scenes and world-consuming political intrigue is negated by his inability to simply 'direct' actors! Though he has the clout to secure the greatest thespians in the business, he abjectly ignores their interplay in the fictional worlds he forges. Thus this movie's major flaw is its technical *perfection*! - Whilst all Humanity suffered around that perfection
Though every press junket lauded his talent, Hayden Christensen brought a wooden-ness to his role (as the nascent Darth Vader) that Christopher Reeve could only dream of bringing to Superman. Analogous to that C-student Bush somehow attaining the office of president, Hayden vapidly doing his line-reads is an inspiration to all C-minus acting students with aspirations of landing an A-movie lead through sheer dumb luck. Setting up audiences for a tie-in deal with Universal Studios for a virtual ride, Hayden and Ewan's first interminable 'action' sequence (through flying traffic) is still not enough to wrest any emotion whatsoever from the bone-chillingly bland Christensen. When he attempted to cry later in the movie, I was crying myself - FROM LAUGHING SO HARD. He may be attired in Jedi robes, but Alec Guinness he ain't! His on screen lip-smudges with Portman exuded all the reticent passion of a Michael Jackson public-woman-kiss.
And Portman's inherent sensual heat is utterly lost amidst the clutter of machinery and glutted blue-screen babble. Even her gratuitously-revealing dumb outfits did nothing to propel her plasticism into three-dimensionality.
Christopher Lee suddenly appears in the movie, as the raging Count Doofus, having lost his way from The Lord Of The Rings sound-stage and figuring that no one would notice he was playing the same role. I think it bemusing that of all the titles he could have been bequeathed by Lucas, he ended up yet again as a 'Count'.
Temuera Morrison, largely unknown in these United States (except for his cataclysmic role in the cult classic Once Were Warriors), was another surprise, as the clone-model bounty hunter Jango Fett, whose freight-train stature lent just that subtle hint of sarcasm to his best line, "I'm just a simple man, trying to make his way in the universe."
Anthony Daniels returns, clad once again as golden droid C-3PO. Unfortunately, in this movie, he only took over where Jar-Jar Boolum-Head left off in the last one. Lucas seems intent on inserting a staple lowbrow element in this series to keep the Three Stooges fans wetting 'em in the aisles. Whereas Daniels' fey English Butler/Dr. Smith routine only got better in the first three REAL Star Wars movies (ooh, I'm gonna field some geek-flak for THAT one!), as he became more accustomed to the character, we are now subjected to a fusillade of desperately non-funny schtick from Daniels, his vapid repartee obviously culled from out-takes of Mary-Kate & Ashley and The Hogan Family. Describing his role as 'dull and clichéd' does it justice! All that was gold definitely did not glitter this time 'round.
Other Real-Life Actors Displaced In This Fantasy Realm: Samuel L. Jackson, as Yoda's sidekick/bitch, Shaft Windu, lightsabre in one hand and Big Kahuna Burger in the other; Jimmy Smits, as the Persian Rug salesman, his wares draped across him like serapes; Jack Thompson, half-heartedly reading his sides about his 'wife being kidnapped or something'; Natalie Portman, who was out-acted by her dresses; Ian McDiarmid, as Emperor Palpatine, wearing too much makeup even for the drag-queen role he was playing; one of the Tusken Raiders who was leaning up against a tent as if he was 'acting like a Tusken Raider leaning up against a tent'; and finally, Liam Neeson, as Quim Gone Sour, whose presence in this episode was as powerful as his presence in the last one
Three unstoppable real-life actors rose above the morass of CGI fartwork: Christopher Lee (playing a role he has commandeered since time immemorial); Ewan MacGregor (holding his own in the dwarfing shadow of Sir Alec Guinness, whose young counterpart he plays), and Yoda (who was directed by Clint Eastwood). In no uncertain terms, this Jedi UberMeister illustrated why there is such a mythos surrounding his stunted green self, simultaneously proving *he ain't no Muppet*. Throwing down against the mighty Count Doobie, lightsabres clash and burn between Count Vlad and the High Plains Jedi and it is obvious that the only way out for Christopher Lee is to cheat and then run like a girly... More sequels on the way...
Or should I say 'PREquels'? The trend of the sequel has arguably been overrun by the last few years' infuriating trend of "prequels". To wit: Smallville, the prequel to the Superman saga; the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, Young Sherlock Holmes Mysteries, Muppet Babies, Baby Looney Tunes, Before They Were Rock Stars; we have even been subjected to The Thorn Birds: The Missing Years (did anyone even care?); the prequel-to-the-sequel of Silence Of The Lambs - Red Dragon, which is itself a REMAKE (?!?!) of Manhunter. And with bated breath, we await: Batman Begins.
Like Eddie van Halen before him (who did not invent finger-tap, but brought it to the masses), Lucas did not invent the "prequel", but he will be the person at whose feet will ultimately be laid the blame for the rash of impostors and wannabes to the concept.
As Yoda's last words in this film portend, "The attack of the clones... has begun!..."
(Read the unabridged version at: www.poffysmoviemania.com/StarWarsAttackOfTheClones.html)