Thus Sith the Lord

Now that the "final" episode of the "Star Wars" saga has been released, pirated and absorbed by the public, the world as we know it has not been drastically altered, Hayden Christopher probably still has a career (at least one as promising at this stage as Mark Hamill's) and George Lucas's reputation as a screenwriter has likely suffered irremediable damage.

Much too much ink has been spilled in the flak attack of the franchise's publicity machine, but the series has been a cultural touchstone of sorts. "Star Wars," from its inception, reshaped and recreated neo-Arthurian myth for the current generations. I must admit to being totally enthralled by the original, a delightful amalgamation of adventure, whimsy, humor and maybe the most rousing film score ever composed. But with every sequel the story acquired a patina of seriousness that eventually turned to leadenness. The phenomenon became too successful and Lucas responded to the unyielding demands of the fans to fill in the lugubrious back story that set up the machinations of Episodes Four, Five and Six.

The question became whether Lucas was more interested in the potential of his Industrial Light and Magic special effects than that of producing a compelling story or interesting characters. He certainly succeeded technically. The visual look of the most recent editions were increasingly impressive, and in "Revenge of the Sith" they are downright spectacular. The details of the cityscapes are so precise that I could probably enjoy myself a lot more just scanning the movie frame by frame, like investigating a Hieronymous Bosch painting. Unfortunately I was so impressed by the exacting art design that I started picturing all the effects artists slaving away in their little cubicles like frantic elves preparing final gifts on Christmas Eve. But meanwhile I'd lose focus on the corny and portentous dialogue being exchanged in the seats of power of the Senate and the Jedi Council.

The movie is too long by a half-hour, though the final act, in which all the strings are neatly tied up to prepare for the upbeat Chapter Four we all so love and admire, is the most compelling section. The first two hours largely consist of spectacular battle scenes alternating with boring dialogue that either underscores the stagnant relationship of Anakin and Padme or the peevish one between the Jedi and the incipient Emperor Palpatine. That the dialogue is wooden is irrelevant; as painful as it is to our ears, this is the stilted language of myth, and was codified in the earlier films. Contemporary argot and syntax would have been even more jarring, and indeed, when R2D2 explains how Anakin has been "under stress," I felt an inner groan.

The fundamental problem with these last three films is not just the tedious political maneuverings whose complexity would put the Federal Tax Code to shame, but the decision to focus on the character of Anakin, whom every viewer would know from the start was destined for a bad career choice. It put the audience's sympathies in tough terrain to know that their hero was eventually going to do some very very nasty things. It took six years from the still bafflingly titled "Phantom Menace" to follow his decline from cute video-gaming junior pilot to Evil Lord. I will admit that the dialogue sessions in which Palpatine weasels his Dark Force sentiments into Anakin's consciousness are the most effective in Lucas's script. But still, it's not a very good pay-off when he kills off most of the remaining Jedi, even if his face does get melted and he is sentenced to life inside the dark suit with James Earl Jones' voice box. The ending is somewhat satisfying intellectually, but not emotionally. Perhaps a more creative approach to these prequels would have been to write them from the viewpoints of Obi-Wan Kenobe, or Padme, or even Yoda (whose character probably comes off best in these films, even if he's been reduced to a CGI figure).

There has been some added chatter about possible underlying political messages Lucas may have inserted of an anti-Bush nature. The mouthpiece here is Padme, who laments the overreaching militarism of the Senate and wonders if Might truly makes Right. Well, rather than having to endure the wrath of the Empire (SPOILER ALERT) she expires sweetly after naming her children. And, surprise, no screaming Sith-like Senator Frist comes to reinsert her feeding tube. The Sith are, in the final scenes, licking their chops and preparing the Death Star for its debut in Episode Four. But there was one line that sent a chuckle through the crowd as I watched, and which I do believe was intentionally politicized for our modern era. It was this: "Only the Sith believe in absolutes." It is implied that the Rebel Alliance will, in the end, bring back Moral Relativism to create a harmonic galaxy. Force willing.