Newsgroup: it.fan.starwars
Titolo: Altra recensione meno critica

ma interessante, un po'spoierosa come la precedente (scusatemi per la
mancanza di avvisi) ma non troppo
We might as well get this out of the way first: The Phantom Menace is
not quite
               the equal of the previous (well, chronologically, the
next) trilogy. It lacks the
               wonder of A New Hope, the darkness and romance of The
Empire Strikes Back,
               and the invention of Return of the Jedi. 
               Now, my three biggest complaints.
               Jar Jar Binks, the new comic sidekick, an alien with
floppy ears who is entirely
               digitally rendered, is a failure. His first scene lands
onscreen with a dull, loud
               thud and the character drags like dead weight through the
rest of the film.
               Every time things start to heat up, you can count on a
quick cut-away to Jar
               Jar doing some wacky antics that will inspire groans from
anyone above the
               age of one. As I left the sold-out screening of four
hundred, the most common
               criticisms I heard (and spoke) were along the lines of,
"I wish Jar Jar Binks had
               been run through by the double-edged lightsaber." He
almost makes one long
               for the relative sophistication and subtlety of the
Ewoks. (Hey, I said almost.) 
               Which brings me to Darth Maul, the ass-kicking villain of
the film. I wish more
               time had been spent developing his character, so we grew
to loathe and love
               him as much as, say, Darth Vader. In the Star Wars
universe, characters only
               briefly glimpsed and barely presented sometimes attain
legendary status (i.e.
               Boba Fett, who has become a beloved icon of the series
but really isn't all that
               impressive in terms of actual screen time). Sleek,
deadly, and ferocious, Darth
               Maul is a sharp villain who would only have benefited
from more
               development--like, more than three lines the entire
movie. Still, I imagine
               Darth Maul will attain Boba Fett status; he is a cool and
frightening villain, and
               I wanted more of him. 
               And finally, the middle of the movie. The sequence that
shall henceforth be
               known as "the part when the audience stretched their legs
and began to really
               feel this was halfway through a midnight screening"--or
"the boring political
               stuff," for short. This is the section of the film when
the refugees from the
               endangered planet Naboo seek the help of the
intergalactic Senate, a ruling
               body as useless, corrupt, and ineffective as the one that
clogs the U.S.
               government. Here all the action comes to a dead stop,
every subplot
               screeches to a halt, and the film lies gasping for air
for close to twenty minutes
               as the audience fidgets nervously, wondering if things
are going to pick up
               soon. That brings us to the good news. What you've heard
about The Phantom
               Menace--you know, from the "critics"--is wrong. You have
all been
               misinformed. The Phantom Menace is a fun, exciting,
competently made space
               opera. 
               If it doesn't seem like an interstellar achievement,
perhaps we ought to reflect
               back on the first Star Wars episode (whoops, I mean the
fourth), A New Hope.
               When the Special Edition was released a couple of years
ago, the audience had
               lined up overnight to "see the movie again, for the first
time," as the ads
               boasted. What many of us discovered was how truly flawed
the first
               (chronological) episode of our beloved space-fantasy epic
really was. From
               Mark Hamill's amateurish performance as a whiny Luke
Skywalker, to the
               occasional drags in the pacing, to the bare outlines of
the characters we would
               come to know and love mostly through the sequels, A New
Hope shows the
               promise of the Star Wars series along with its inherent
weaknesses. It wasn't
               until the superb The Empire Strikes Back that the body
got some blood pumping
               in its veins. 
               The Phantom Menace has some of the same problems as A New
Hope, but with
               a few new ones tacked on. The plot is much more
rudimentary than Episode IV:
               basically, a handful of refugees flee an invasion of the
planet Naboo, seek the
               aid of the Senate, then return to Naboo to fight off the
invaders. It lacks the
               twisting subplots that kept The Empire Strikes Back and
Return of the Jedi so
               compelling. And most damaging of all, I think, it lacks a
Han Solo rogue to fall
               in love with. Let's face it: nobody really likes Luke
Skywalker. He was the
               brains of the outfit (well, eventually) but he wasn't
much fun. Han Solo was the
               guy every boy wanted to be and every girl wanted to fall
in love with, and his
               romance with Princess Leia gave the original trilogy a
vitality it retains years
               later. 
               So no, The Phantom Menace doesn't quite pass the test of
greatness. It is not
               a great film. In my opinion, neither were Star Wars or
Return of the Jedi. But
               like those two, it is a well-made entertainment, much
more solid and layered
               than typical Hollywood crap like Armageddon and The
Mummy. One need only
               compare Lucas' inventions with the lackluster
contrivances of puny space
               "epics" like Lost In Space and Starship Troopers to
really see how much this
               film accomplishes in the scorched desert of blockbuster
entertainment.
               The Phantom Menace boasts a number of well-realized
worlds including an
               undersea kingdom, and a few exciting new events like the
pod races on the
               planet Tattooine, eventually to become known as Luke
Skywalker's homeworld.
               The pod race is the highlight of the first half: it is
energetic, well presented, and
               visually gorgeous. Some have noted it's derivative of the
chariot race in
               Ben-Hur, but these aren't exactly eagle-eyed critics
here; Lucas has already
               given Ben-Hur the credit in half a dozen or so
interviews. While we're at it, let's
               compare the pod race to Days of Thunder since it's about
multiple vehicles
               rushing at fast speeds to reach the finish line first.
Whatever the inspiration,
               the scene is fun and effective. 
               The characters don't stand out exceptionally well--except
Jar Jar, for very bad
               reasons--but the actors breathe a good deal of life into
them. Natalie Portman,
               Liam Neeson, and Samuel L. Jackson are a couple of the
rock-solid actors, but
               the strongest performance comes from Ewan McGregor, who
is such a terrific,
               kinetic actor it's hard to tear one's eyes off him and
notice the rich
               computer-generated scenery. 
               Jake Lloyd as Annakin Skywalker is slightly more
problematic, but that's
               because he's a child actor. For some reason young girls
can give strong,
               emotionally wrenching performances (think Anna Paquin in
The Piano), while
               most boys merely seem to be mugging and whining. Lloyd
isn't terribly good,
               but he's no worse than most young boy actors I've seen in
one movie after the
               next. It's hard to reconcile his "gee-whiz" attitude with
the Dark Lord we know
               he will become--but everyone changes quite a bit between
childhood and
               adulthood. (Except maybe those people camping out in
front of a movie theater
               for two weeks to buy Star Wars tickets.) I didn't buy the
notion that Annakin
               built C3PO and was buddies with R2D2, since Darth Vader
later encounters
               these droids and has no response to them. Frankly, Lucas
shouldn't have gone
               to that well, but it's a minor oversight.
               The Phantom Menace moves along amicably, not quite
dazzling but managing
               to entertain, until the Senate scene, which is intercut
with an equally dry, dull
               meeting of the Jedi Council. This section is a puzzle to
me. I simply cannot
               fathom who Lucas thought would enjoy it. The acting and
dialogue are too
               leaden to develop any drama that would compel adults--and
if the adults are
               bored by it, what are the kids (supposedly loving Jar Jar
about now) going to
               think? 
               But when the refugees return to Naboo, things get back on
track. The climactic
               battle contains three interwoven conflicts: the Gungans
(Jar Jar's equally
               irritating people) versus the Trade Federation's mostly
ineffective droids;
               Princess Amidala (Portman) and her soldiers versus more
droids and the
               leaders of the Trade Federation; and Jedi Knight Qui-Gon
Jinn (Neeson) and
               his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi (McGregor), battling Darth
Maul (Ray Park) on
               a two-on-one lightsaber spectacular. 
               That lightsaber battle is fantastic. As far as I'm
concerned, it makes the entire
               movie. I was willing to forgive (almost) every instance
of Jar Jar annoyance
               just for that beautifully choreographed, perfectly shot,
white-knuckled-intense
               battle. This is easily the best such sequence in any Star
Wars film. Whereas
               Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader mostly practiced a fairly
stiff (but still
               gripping) hack-and-slash style, The Phantom Menace shows
its combatants
               defying gravity with fierce deftness and intensity. I've
seen the lightsaber
               sequence four times now, and I can't wait to see it
again. 
               In the first trilogy, each episode told a story with from
first frame to last, with
               numerous exciting features and goings-on, in a fluid,
natural narrative. Sadly,
               times have changed. Narratives no longer have any sort of
flow. Most movies
               are simply a collection of set-pieces strung together by
long, boring scenes of
               plot, exposition, and "character development." Think of
Independence Day: the
               ships arrive with great awe and mystery; they open fire
with great explosions;
               then earth goes to war against the ships--and in between
each of those bloated
               set-pieces we get scenes of Jeff Goldblum, Will Smith,
and Bill Pullman
               desperately struggling to spin gold out of a lame
screenplay made of straw. 
               Alas, Lucas has apparently surrendered to this current
trend and offers us a
               handful of beautiful set-pieces barely tired together by
a limp noodle of a plot.
               Still, when the set pieces are as lovely as the undersea
voyage (with its
               collection of exotic, giant sea creatures); the
pulse-pounding pod race; and the
               excellent lightsaber duel, I'm willing to forgive a
little easier than, say, in
               Starship Troopers.
               The Phantom Menace is not the movie I would have made. I
have a long, long
               wish-list of scenes I would cut and scenes I would add.
Apparently, lots of
               other people have similar wish-lists. There's a reason
for this, I think, possibly
               having to do with the trunks full of Star Wars toys we
all grew up with. Frankly,
               the children of my generation yanked Lucas' characters
out of his hands and
               conducted their own, grand space operas with plastic
actors and sofa cushions.
               And a movie with a plot and characters as hamstrung as
those in The Phantom
               Menace can't quite compare to the sprawling, potentially
incoherent, but
               certainly imaginative epics developed in a child's mind.
In a way, each of us
               has crafted our own Star Wars sequels and prequels--and
many of us seem
               convinced our ideas are far, far better than Lucas'.
               But a movie isn't an interactive experience. I
appreciated what Lucas gave me
               for what it was, and nothing more. 
               (It helps, I suppose, to have heard such scathing,
vindictive reviews as those
               posted by my colleague on 24 Frames Per Second, so that
one approaches the
               film with utter certainty that it will suck--and then one
wanders out wondering
               why everyone was kicking, screaming, and crying like
little children in a Toys
               R'Us whose parents won't buy them the toys THEY want.) 
               I don't know if I'll see The Phantom Menace again. If I
do, I'll probably leave
               after the pod race, read in the lobby for a while or step
into The Matrix, then
               come back for the climactic lightsaber battle. 
               But The Phantom Menace is not the end of civilized
filmmaking as some rabid,
               red-faced (self-appointed) "critics" are shrieking at
everyone who will listen.
               (That dubious honor falls on the shoulders of Armageddon,
The Waterboy,
               Godzilla, and The Mummy.) Instead, it's a mostly fun,
mostly well-made
               diversion. It's not a great Star Wars movie. It's not
even a great movie,
               period. It's not the movie it could have been. Perhaps it
isn't the movie it
               SHOULD have been. (We'll wait for Episodes 2 and
especially the much darker
               3 for that.) 
               Essentially you will take away from it what you bring to
it. If you walk in with a
               monstrous, Lucas-hating chip on your shoulder, guns fully
loaded for the
               attack, you will walk out blasting rounds. If, on the
other hand, you go looking
               for a good time and an escape, you will find just that.
And a few terrific
               surprises along the way.
               Text by Chris Bolton
-- 
Classic Lane Master (
www.macity.it/classic
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