The Dark Side of George Lucas

Well, thank God that's over with.

Now that I've seen Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith -- the silly, entertaining, final plank in the creaky bridge between these completely unnecessary, often embarrassing prequels and the seminal trilogy of my youth -- I can relax. And happily pretend none of this ever happened.

[A quick scene from the year 2011]: Huh? No-no, Young Unborn Bones. Star Wars only has three episodes. Those others were a practical joke. OK, maybe a very expensive, impractical joke. But it's best, Child Whom I've Yet to Sire, to treat these piddling, awkward indulgences as though they were only a dream -- Bobby Ewing in the shower. What? Oh. I think he used to play quarterback for the Cowboys. But anyway...

There's really nothing wrong with this latest and (hopefully) last film in this 28-year-old saga. Except for anything that matters. MUCHO SPOILERS WARNING

Don't assume I'm one of those impossible-to-please nit-pickers. I watched with a giddy smile at times -- often in awe of the visual artistry and sound design and quirky moments of awkward mirth, as when Yoda topples a pair of the Emperor's guard with a dismissive Force hand-wave. But I'm talking about nits the size of forest moons. I mean, does anything jive with the way you envisioned things after seeming the original films? Is this how you saw things playing out when you first (perhaps reluctantly) bought the concept of Darth Vader as Luke's father who was turned to the Dark side?

Darth Vader, scourge of the Galaxy, hunter of Jedi, compulsive serial choker of underlings...little yippee-shouting moppet-head? Brooding, whiny apprentice? Easily-duped lover-boy who turns into a child-killing, power-hungry maniac to save his wife? This last (third, sixth, take your pick) movie supplies several soggy strands of motivation for his transformation, none of them plausible on screen.

Think about it. Anakin is conflicted (or maybe just constipated, judging from Hayden Christenson's perpetually sour puss) immediately prior to his complicity in the death of Mace Windu, and then he immediately pledges fealty to the Emperor. His first act as Darth Vader? Murdering unarmed Jedi children. Then he mows down a room full of helpless Trade Federation Asian stereotypes. He never actually kills a single Jedi in this film (Count Dooku is a Sith and doesn't, heh, count). Kiddies and caricatures. What a baddass.

Wouldn't it make more sense if Anakin were somehow betrayed by some core Jedi belief prior to switching sides? And wouldn't it play out better if he first switches sides with some tentativeness before going completely power-hungry and insane? Like this (TM, Ami Eden, 2005): He could find himself in a situation where he could conveniently blame the Jedi for Padme's death, then get crippled and left for dead by Obi-Wan, and then, with nothing to live for but his blind rage and thirst for power, he could go completely mad under the confines of that black mask. Only then would it make sense for him to slaughter innocents. And we'd get to see him do it in full Vader regalia.

Basically, you need to forget everything you thought you knew about the Star Wars story if you are to believe these prequels. At the end of Sith, Yoda and Obi-Wan separate Anakin's twins, Luke and Leah, because they are the only hope for the Jedi to survive and eventually topple the Emperor. Right? But putting aside the absurdity of hiding Luke on Anakin's home planet with relatives familiar to Anakin and letting Luke keep the name Skywalker (Owen and and Beru's last name is Lars), can anyone explain what the hell Obi-Wan and Yoda are waiting for?

Luke only encounters Obi-Wan (brilliantly concealing his identity under the name "Ben Kenobi") after R2-D2 crash lands on his planet with a message from his sister. They are both 19-years-old. In the second movie, Yoda complains that Luke is "too old to begin the training" of a Jedi. So. Um. Why all the waiting? And why not even bother to train Leah? If these two are the last hope of the Jedi to topple the Emperor, you'd think these great Jedi Masters would be a little more attentive to the calendar.

But whatever. This is the trouble you get into when you make a kickass movie and then fill in shit after the fact.

Even worse than these fundamental plot inconsistencies, the real crimes of Sith are scenes that supposedly could hold some emotional jolt before they are short-circuited by George Lucas's retarded directorial sense. Example: The Emperor lies to the newly-helmeted, black-clad Vader that he is responsible for his wife's death. Vader, in full Frankenstein mode, bursts from his bonds on the surgical table and clenches his fists in the air while the camera rises in a crane shot overhead, looking down on his anguished yell of "Nooooooooooo!"

This shot (which like so many others received mocking laughter at my screening) has been lampooned at least since William Shattner screamed "Kaaaaahn!" in the second Star Trek film. And didn't ring any more true when Sean Penn writhed his way to an Oscar, emoting at his daughter's death while a pile of cops try to restrain him in Mystic River.

When your hard-core audience laughs at what you think is your film's most gripping moment, you really have lost touch with popular entertainment. And for a life-long fan like me, Lucas's descent into emotionally and logically false silliness has been the real tragedy depicted in these prequels.