This is it. The journey’s over. There’s no more new ground to cover, movie-wise. The new trilogy is officially at an end. Almost anyone who has more than a passing interest in these films has seen this movie already, most likely in its opening weekend, so discussing the strengths and weaknesses within the film is tempting. But that would be a critique, not a review. This goes out to the folks out there who haven’t seen the movie and like their films unspoiled, thank you very much.
Revenge of the Sith, the final installment of George Lucas’s “prequel trilogy” (the first two being The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones) shows the young Anakin Skywalker as a full-fledged jedi knight. Separatists, aided by the Trade Federation, have kidnaped Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, and Anakin and Obi-Wan Kenobi are sent on a rescue mission. But events are taking place that could jeopardize the future of the Republic. Can the young Skywalker face up to the challenges ahead, even as he continues to keep his marriage to Senator Padmé Amidala a secret? Everyone knows that in this film Anakin becomes Darth Vader, so the answers to those questions are heartbreakingly obvious. The reason to see Revenge of the Sith is not the ultimate outcome, but the journey itself. This is the capstone, the piece that ties Episodes I and II to the “original trilogy” (A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi), the movie that fans hoped would answer questions and tie up plot points. All that in two hours and twenty minutes?
Well . . . .
Revenge of the Sith manages to retain the feel of a movie serial, with cliffhangers, death-defying fights and action, action, action. But in this final episode of the prequels, the line between the good guys and the bad guys start to blur; things begin to slip and everything is no longer black-and-white. The Republic has become bogged down in its own bureaucracy. The Jedis’ long years of successful peacekeeping have left them complacent. Evil begins to seep out from dark corners and crevices. Friendships are challenged, bonds are forged and broken. This is the darkest of all of the Star Wars films, dealing as it does with one man’s downfall and the forging of an Empire, and George Lucas does not shy away from showing the consequences of the destruction of a man’s soul. Unfortunately, it’s mostly just show, since George seems to prefer letting action sequences do the talking.
The action sequences themselves are beautifully realized. Starships and fighters zoom around each other, performing amazing feats of CGI-driven acrobatics. Battle sequences are both large and terrifying, yet frighteningly intimate. But unlike the original trilogy, there’s no time spent developing any kind of characterization, so when casualties occur, it’s simply on to the next scene, bring on more CGI! I remember crying for the little Ewok that died in Return of the Jedi, but no supporting character moved me this time. So much time was spent on action sequences, little was left to make sure the audience actually cared about who was fighting. In fact, so many new worlds and creatures were introduced I got dizzy trying to keep them all straight. It didn’t really matter, since no one world or people are focused on for more than a few minutes at a time — just enough for moviegoers to process the new information briefly and move on. Seeing as how George Lucas has a Tolkienesque way of naming every creature and giving each world quite a bit of backstory, the fact that he doesn’t even bother to provide names (of a species or an individual) feels like a cop-out.
The worlds that see battle are beautiful, though. David Tattersall’s cinematography fleshes them out and breathes life into the film. The work of the art and production design teams are equally impressive. Costuming isn’t as interesting as in Menace and Clones, but it would be hard to top the breathtaking costumes Padmé wears in the earlier movies. Still, after the work that went into costuming and makeup in the first two episodes, Mrs. Skywalker looks like she’s wearing yards of cast-off material and a cheap hair weave in about ninety percent of her scenes.
Of course Star Wars wouldn’t be Star Wars without John Williams and his evocative score. In many instances, this score does what the director cannot or will not do; it pulls you into the film. Passions build, fear grows, uncertainty surfaces everywhere, and much of that is due to Mr. Williams’ touch. Unfortunately, the music must work double-time, since the script suffers not only from bad (in some cases horrifically bad) dialogue, but from overall neglect. I believe George hates dealing with the spoken word, preferring to lose himself in CGI and gadgetry instead. There’s no real time spent on motivation, so when Anakin becomes Darth Vader it seems more like the impulse of a child than the decision of a full-fledged Jedi knight, regardless of the reasons behind his turn. And the reasons themselves, while understandable, seem simplistic and forced (no pun intended). Greater insight would have made his ultimate choice easier to swallow.
Better acting would have helped, too. That really bothers me because most of the actors in this film have long since proven their chops. Natalie Portman did amazing work in The Professional and Closer, Ewan McGregor blew me away in Velvet Goldmine, and Samuel L. Jackson . . . well, shut yo’ mouth. Even Hayden Christensen, a relative novice beside these more seasoned actors, did a remarkable job in Life as a House. So why do they all come off sounding so wooden and looking so stiff? One scene between Anakin and Padmé is so hollow it’s painful to watch. Every once in a while you can see Ewan or Samuel straining to give their characters some bit of emotion, and Natalie’s final scenes are emotional and well crafted. Those hints of real talent made me wonder how much better the movie would have been if George had let the actors act. This is a popcorn movie that could have been so much more. Maybe if I hadn’t seen George do it and do it well three times before, I wouldn’t be so disappointed.
Do I think that George Lucas is a man who took the childhood memories of millions of his fans, ripped them into shreds then fed those visions back to us, demanding that we like it? Yes, but not because of this film. I’ll go see Revenge of the Sith again, and again. Why? Because it’s the end of an era. It’s the transition piece that fans like me have been waiting for. The Star Wars mythology itself is compelling enough. The CGI is fake in spots (clones, anyone?), but on the whole it’s amazing. And I love Yoda.
Last but not least, the poster harkens back to an earlier time, reminding me of a galaxy far, far away, when I was drawn to these films because of the characters and the story, not because of the flashy graphics. Revenge of the Sith is not a great film, but it does its job. And as much as I hoped it would live up to the brilliance of the original trilogy, those films are so deep in our collective psyche that matching them would probably be impossible. But this movie could have been so much better.
Denise Dutton
(Lucasfilm Ltd./Twentieth Century Fox, 2005)
