Where is the love, George?

Rating: Null/10 (22 May 2005)

"What the hell is a teddy bear doing in the middle of a Star Wars film?" Up to that point, my brain had accepted everything. No reservations. I'd marveled at the magnitude of that very first Imperial Star Destroyer; the droids, Darth Vader, Leia's hairdo, and later, even Yoda's garbled syntax  I bought it all in buckets. And it wasn't only the characters that mesmerized me, or each new piece of hardware. It was The Force itself. Little did I know, at the tender age of 11, that this 'energy field created by all living things' would become the bedrock of my life's philosophy. It was, if you will, my introduction to the Vedic principle, an idea that exulted the power of the human mind, the virtues of self-effort, discipline, focus and stillness. These needed no explanation. Everything was in its place, exactly as it should be. So you can imagine my dismay, some years later, when I came up against midiclorians. Midiclorians? Why, George, would you feel the need to rationalize The Force? Probably for the same reasons you suddenly decided to insert a child's toy into what was, until then, a fairly sober and unsentimental Universe. It's the Dark Side, I tell you. (Or, at the very least, it was the point at which Mr Lucas lost his plot.) Since, however, we've been asked to believe many things even more anomalous than an Ewok. Beyond even Jar Jar Binks, there's the fact that in the original, Ben Kenobi hasn't even met the droids. "I can't remember ever owning a droid", he says to Luke's claim that R2D2 belongs to him. Senile dementia? From a Jedi?? Okay... okay... I get that the two series are separate. I get that. But not to the point where I can accept Yoda bearing arms, let alone bouncing around like a pinball on steroids. Most undignified! There's an irony in good fantasy, if you ask me. It has to be believable... Gimme back my X-wing models on strings! That, at least, was real!
I didn't like this film - an Industrial Light And Magic jerk-off, if you ask me. Where's my story, George? I mean, the first is an archetype: a journey from the dark to the light; and the latest crop is the reverse, obviously. The fall of man is a big story. But this one just gets lost in its candy floss visuals.
As different as I was from II, I'd hoped for III to be a little more introspective than either, exploring perhaps the emotions and human weakness that brings about such a downfall. Love is the key here, and, yes, it's implied in the film... but not well! A love story needs characters. And this rot has none. Our hero is too busy flashing his sword around to show off his flaws; and Padme, well, she goes from the spunky pistol-toting queen of 'Clones' to a tragic lovesick little tart who does nothing in the entire film except cry, get bigger and, ultimately, die! I mean, that's just bloody sexist, George. This is the 21st Century, for God's sake!
Where's the drama? Remember that stunning scene in the fight between Gui Go Jin and Darth Maul where, having to wait for a energy shield to open before he can get to his adversary, the Jedi sits down and meditates? He meditates. In the midst of battle! Now that's a Jedi. That's drama. There's none of that here. Everything is happening far too quickly for any drama to happen.
Ag, but Sith happens, as they say. And, hell, if I carry on bitching I'll give Anniken a run for THAT title. I was always gonna be hard to please on this score. Fact is, I don't wanna think about this Sith anymore.