Pain, Anger and Suffering, These Things I Feel

As the diminutive Yoda rounds a dark corner and ignites his lightsaber at the end of Star Wars Episode II, audiences around the world gasp for air at the excitement of the moment. The final lightsaber duel in Attack of the Clones represents the culmination of many years of anticipation by Star Wars fans--a moment that sadly cannot save a dying franchise.

Sure, George Lucas will make his money, as millions of faithful devotees will make the pilgrimage to the shrine of the cineplex, but the fact remains--Star Wars just ain't what it used to be.

The sense of wonder that so many will continue to experience upon first viewing the original trilogy has been lost altogether in Episodes I and II. By any measure this should not have occurred--computer technology has improved dramatically and higher-profile actors have been employed. So what gives, George?

Apparently there is an unwritten law of filmmaking that Lucas now adheres to--as digital creativity increases, dramatic intensity must decrease. Now, I'm not saying that Episodes IV through VI were gems of writing or acting, but the corny dialogue worked because we knew the characters better. In those films, the fantastic world of intergalactic adventure served as the backdrop for a struggle between archetypes, and the special effects didn't get in the way of what really mattered--the people.

So far in Lucas's prequels, technology has outshined the stars. Otherwise brilliant actors have been churned into dull, line-reading idiots by the Star Wars machine. Every frame of this picture bombards us with over-saturated imagery--distracting and detracting from the significant talents of Ewan McGregor, Samuel L. Jackson and Christopher Lee. George Lucas has become so enamored with his digital toys that he has apparently forgotten that living, breathing people still inhabit that galaxy far, far away.

Attack of the Clones exhibits some of the worst writing yet from Lucas and is an overall disappointment for fans and newcomers alike. There are brief moments in Episode II, mostly involving Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) and Yoda, when we are briefly reminded of the mystical struggle between the sinister and the good that injected grace and magic into the original trilogy. But these moments are too disparate in the nearly three-hour film, and the result is a movie without purpose--an often-laughable mess of plotless events and misguided virtues. Master Lucas: the force is no longer with you.