Newsgroup: it.fan.starwars
Titolo: pessima recensione

ecco una pessima recensione che ho trovato su 
24framespersecond.com
, non
vogliatemene se la posto tutta...
               "This is only a movie," said George Lucas in newspapers.
"This is a Saturday
               afternoon serial."
               Well, I could handle a movie. The Star Wars trilogy is
only the most
               successful series of movies ever to come out of
Hollywood, and The Phantom
               Menace is perhaps the most anticipated release since Gone
with the Wind.
               But "Saturday afternoon serial" bears the connotation of
excitement and fun, of
               heroes and villains duking it out over swords (okay,
light sabers) and cheesy
               repartee. And it is my sad duty to report that The
Phantom Menace is one
               whopping bore of a movie, a collection of computer
generated images devoid of
               feeling, emotion and above all the very reality of human
existence. It would
               rival Tarkovsky's Solaris as the most sleep-inducing
science fiction film of all
               time, if not for the deafening prowess of THX technicians
and the constant
               onslaught of explosions.
               "Only a movie," says the great bearded guru. Well, let me
let you in on a few
               things here. L. Ron Lucas is hardly the great man that
the many fans think he
               is. The Phantom Menace is shameless in its pilfering of
scenes from
               blockbusters (more below). Whatever your thoughts are on
the Star Wars
               universe, the "charm" and "humor" of the original three
films have been
               reduced by Lucas, the "great auteur," to cutesy moments
aimed primarily at
               avid watchers of Teletubbies. Lucas apparently never met
a cliché he didn't
               swoon over. His script is a muddled piece of idiocy, more
hack job than Joseph
               Campbell. As a director, he treats his actors worse than
ignoble props,
               sacrificing the vital human moments they need to express
for the sake of his
               gratuitous digital effects and allowing them to speak
their inane lines with
               bland monotony and all the emotional impact of a plate of
Brussel sprouts. His
               direction is so flat that he makes Hitchcock, who once
dismissed actors as
               mere cattle and insisted that the motivation behind a
performance was a
               paycheck, look like the greatest Method director who ever
lived.
               "Only a movie." It is this simple statement that will
allow the fans who have
               waited in line so long to buy tickets to proclaim Lucas
-- the creatively
               challenged, the deficient and hollow technician -- a
genius. It is they who I feel
               the sorriest for. After being conned and subsequently
brainwashed with the
               endless hype, they will flock to the "magic" of Star Wars
without a clear
               perception. Thirty days of waiting will cloud their minds
as they enter the
               theatres expecting to relive the joys of a film they
loved twenty-two years ago
               and allow them to remain so caught up in the fervor that
they will remain
               committed to the mantra: Lucas is God. Little do they
realize that the emperor
               wears no clothes.
               Folks, I am angry. Angry over two hours and fifteen
minutes of my time (and
               that's just the running time) being forever lost. Angry
over the fact that Lucas
               has marketed himself as some sort of mystic Bohemian
who's the Sophocles of
               our generation. Angry that so much money will find its
way into the coffers of
               Lucasfilm while smaller films, even the marginal
Hollywood
               entertainment-oriented ones that have at least one toe
rooted into the process
               of true filmmaking, will be left by the wayside. Yes,
Virginia, The Phantom
               Menace is that bad.
               A few words before I am condemned to Chinese water
torture by the disciples
               of Lucas.
               I did not arrive at this conclusion as a film critic
(referred to in common
               parlance, and the subject of ongoing debate here at 24
Frames Per Second, as a
               film snob). A review of The Phantom Menace meant that I
had to view the film
               primarily as entertainment. All notions of the analytical
filmgoer, the cineaste,
               and the celluloid elitist had to be thrown out the
window. And I did not feel
               guilty about lowering the bar.
               Why? Because at one point in my life, I was seduced by
the Star Wars trilogy
               (or, to use a "Lucas invention," the Dark Side). Never
mind that I was four
               years old when I first viewed Star Wars. No, the film did
have an effect upon
               me. In some way, it instilled me with some idea of what
films were and what
               they could do. And the adventures of Luke, Han Solo,
Obi-Wan, et al. simply
               could not be avoided. This is how significant Lucas'
contribution to movie
               culture and pop culture is. But then any child growing up
in the 1970's and
               1980's knows this. Anyone living in America who paid even
the slightest
               attention to the movie marquee knows the full
ramifications of Lucas'
               contributions.
               At the same time, I didn't know any better. I was young
and easily susceptible
               to snake charmers such as Lucas, which is not to say that
the Star Wars
               trilogy is without merit. To this very day, I still
champion The Empire Strikes
               Back as one mean, effective movie, in part because of its
dynamic father-son
               relationship, although I would be among the first to
order Ewok Stew if it was
               offered for consumption.
               To this end, I took along my sister to the press
screening for The Phantom
               Menace as an independent variable. She grew up with much
of the same
               wonder instilled in her at an early age and, like me,
fell for it. Graciously, our
               mother did not invest in the endless procession of
tie-ins. Indeed, she couldn't
               afford to. But I remember a variety of childhood games in
which I reluctantly
               took on the role of Luke, and I suspect that she played
the part of Leia with
               equal uneasiness (although we were delighted to learn
that Luke and Leia were
               brother and sister). This was Star Wars, you see. This
was America. This was
               fantasy.
               It was fortunate that movies such as Blade Runner, Time
Bandits, Brazil,
               Labyrinth and Legend came out before we hit adolescence,
films that offered
               fantastical worlds of marvel and that made Star Wars look
fairly lightweight and
               downright amateurish. It was these films -- not Star Wars
-- that allowed our
               imagination to truly ran wild.
               Nevertheless, Star Wars somehow managed to find a way to
burn in our
               memories and, when news of a trilogy of prequels came to
us, a modest sense
               of excitement frequently found its way into long-distance
telephone
               conversations.
               Oddly enough, we didn't fall for the hype. The Phantom
Menace was a film like
               any other. Besides Eyes Wide Shut, Kubrick's last grand
epic, was the
               designated summer event movie for us anyway. 
               Before we viewed The Phantom Menace, I confirmed this
biographical history
               with my sister, almost as a way of maintaining this
appropriate level of
               subjective reaction. We both concluded that the Star Wars
trilogy was grand,
               lavish entertainment. My sister used the term "power
movie." 
               The house lights went down and the two of us were
consumed with a giddy form
               of excitement when we saw the scrolling yellow prologue.
This burning
               enthusiasm was shared by even the most stolid critics
throughout the theatre.
               Cheers and excitement fired through the hearts of nearly
all those attending.
               The first thing I had hoped to see was a visual that
approached the indelible
               image of the Star Destroyer, an all-encompassing special
effect that
               immediately set the tone of the film. This, however,
never happened. The first
               image was a standard fly-by shot of a spaceship
approaching a planet -- a
               visual now firmly locked as the by-the-numbers
establishing shot of every
               science fiction movie. For all the hype, it was
considerably disappointing to see
               that Lucas had decided not to wow us from the get-go,
something he had
               effectively managed to accomplish the last time he
directed a long time ago in
               a galaxy far, far away -- twenty-two years ago.
               Five minutes later, I was squirming in my seat, waiting
desperately for
               something to happen. Twenty minutes later, the critic of
a major newspaper,
               who was sitting in our aisle, had fallen asleep. Forty
minutes later, my sister
               and I were whispering in each other's ears. And let me
tell you: it takes a lot
               for me to whisper during a movie. 
               The Phantom Menace quickly establishes a notoriously
wooden acting style
               which was to form the crux of all characterization to
come. Liam Neeson and
               Ewan McGregor are introduced as two Jedi Knights (Qui-Gon
Jinn and a young
               Obi-Wan Kenobi, respectively). They are both talented
actors (despite Lucas'
               tinkering, you can still see the occasional glint in
McGregor's eye of the young
               Alec Guiness in the early Ealing comedies), yet their
characters are presented
               with so little life that one could put a sieve through
their every line and receive
               scarcely a droplet of water.
               Lucas' framing is one of a cold technician rather than a
filmmaker. 85% of this
               film has been digitally enhanced and he is a filmmaker
determined to put
               something in every frame, cluttering a shot up with
digital gratuities in a
               manner that even D.W. Griffith would be shocked by. With
all the subtlety of
               David O. Selznick, each and every shot commands you to
stare at the details
               without giving you one specific thing or central action
to focus on.
               For those who winced at such lines as "You will never
find a more wretched hide
               of scum and villainy" and who read this review with
disbelief, let me just
               provide you with a handful of Lucas' dialogue:
               "We are brave, your highness."
               "I will not condone a course of action that will lead us
to war. These Jedi are
               not to be underestimated."
               "That is the sound of a thousand terrible things heading
this way."
               "We should not have made this bargain."
               "Mom, you say the biggest problem in the universe is that
no one helps each
               other."
               "There is something about this boy."
               "You have brought home to those who have none."
               "You can't stop the change anymore than you can stop the
suns from setting."
               And those are just nine lines from about the thirty or so
I found myself
               scribbling down. Note the perfect grammar, the rather
formal structure behind
               each sentence, the lack of contractions and the overall
dullness behind the
               dialogue. No human being speaks this way. Indeed, you'd
be hard up to find the
               characters of a cheesy melodrama conversing with such
ineptitude. Now
               imagine to yourself each of these lines said by a human
being in a flat,
               unemotional tone and you'll get a sense of how goddam
boring The Phantom
               Menace is.
               The film is more of a collection of recycled Industrial
Light & Magic shots than
               a story. My sister and I found ourselves playing the game
of "Spot the ILM
               Effect." Sequences seen in Raiders of the Lost Ark,
Waterworld, Starship
               Troopers, Robocop, the original Star Wars trilogy,
Jurassic Park, and, most
               bizarrely of all, the famous Buster Keaton rock sequence
from Seven Chances
               have been recreated by Lucas angle-by-angle with all the
gusto of a callous
               dentist on the golf course.
               The film's most compelling sequence involves a pod race
over the deserts of
               Tantooine. The sound design (complete with a puttering
speed pod) and visual
               effects are particularly stunning during this sequence of
the film, but then this
               too is a shot-for-shot execution of the chariot sequence
from Ben-Hur. What
               can one say when the most engaging scene is a knockoff? 
               Of John Williams' music, nothing more need be said than
it is his worst score
               since Amistad. It is a collection of excerpts from the
previous three films and
               the new compositions introduced sound as if they've been
reluctantly written.
               At one point, during an light saber fight sequence with
all of the enthralling
               captivation of a noisy slideshow, an obscene choir bursts
onto the soundtrack,
               one of many examples in which Lucas compensates for his
inadequacies
               through a cacophony of noise.
               Oh, yeah, Samuel L. Jackson shows up as a member of the
Jedi Council, but
               even Jackson's charisma is diluted. He does at one point
say, "May the force
               be with you," and that was perhaps my favorite part of
the movie. But you have
               to question Lucas' reliance on his presence when Yoda
spouts off some
               recycled Force philosophy and Lucas cuts directly to a
shot of Jackson
               stroking his chin in wonder.
               Jake Lloyd, who plays the young Anakin Skywalker, the kid
that will grow up
               and become Darth Vader, is introduced as a hybrid between
Macluay Culkin
               and that wretched kid from the Problem Child movies. As
one of the central
               characters of the Star Wars saga, Ani (as he is referred
to in the movie) is an
               unappealing and reprehensible spoiled brat, a character
that will no doubt
               continue the horrible trend of obnoxious and unappealing
children populating
               today's Hollywood movies.
               All this is the product of that wizard behind the
curtain. And never mind the
               bearded man who tells you to pay no attention. As
responsible and
               discriminating moviegoers, you must ignore him.
               The many fans in line will not listen to the reviews. The
moviegoing population
               will not hear what we film critics have to say, convinced
that our love of film
               has washed away with the Pleistocene porters. But if you
must see this film, if
               you can't wait to plunk down your nine dollars, don't say
that we didn't warn
               you. Don't come crying to us when you've been had.
               Because that evil laugh you hear isn't Darth Vader's,
Darth Maul's or the
               Emperor's. It comes from a man called Lucas.
               Text by Edward Champion
               Read an opposing reaction to the film. 
-- 
Classic Lane Master (
www.macity.it/classic
)
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 [MEGA CUT]
Chissà Lucas come prende queste cose...
Roby-Wan
-- 
---------------------------------------------------
"Conosco la metà di voi soltanto a metà; e nutro, per meno della metà di
voi, metà dell'affetto che meritate".
Bilbo Baggins, Il Signore degli Anelli

 > [MEGA CUT]
tu come le prenderesti? ;)


 tu come le prenderesti? ;)
ma soprattutto dove :))
Venghino Venghino Siori e Siore al sito
del tamarro
http://www.geocities.com/CapeCanaveral/Hall/1883
__________________________________
THE TRAIN WE ARE ON MAKES NO STOPS
Cloud Strife
Final Fantasy VII


Piu' che altro la definerei la recensione di un fan della prima ora un po' 
( solo un po' ;-)) incazzato, sopratutto con Lucas.
Credo di aver capito (io l'inglese lo mastico solo un po') che lui si
aspettava qualcos'altro e purtroppo non lo ha trovato. Penso che  restera'
comunque un fan della trilogia, e alla fine, e' quello che conta. 
De gustibus......  ;-)
Ciao! :-)
Alecs®
alza...@tin.it
Addio amico mio. Io ero mille volte piu' malefico di te.
E poi lascio' la Terra con un balzo sfrecciando verso l'alto 
e con voce selvaggia rise beffardamente della bilancia 
cosmica, saturando l'universo della sua empia gioia.
Michael Moorcock