Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)

“So this is how liberty dies- with thunderous applause.”

The Star Wars prequels have, to put it mildly, a mixed reputation. And yet, having now rewatched them all, I have to concur with the emerging critical consensus that they are, in hindsight, admittedly flawed but perhaps also much better than their reputation.

It is, perhaps, unfortunate that the first film of the trilogy should be the most problematic. The Phantom Menace has a solid concept hiding behind a flawed structure and a less than charismatic cast. Yet these teething troubles are left far behind by this concluding instalment.

To a degree the whole concept is the film is, I suppose, pure fan service. It exists, by definition, to follow a gap in backstory between the prequels and the original trilogy. And this it does neatly, with loose ends cleared up in the final scenes, perhaps too neatly. It’s all very smoothly done, albeit with the odd necessary retcon: didn’t Leia reminisce to Luke about their mother in Return of the Jedi?

But the film is more than this. It’s an extended study of a person, Anakin Skywalker, who is played rather well by Hayden Christensen, a far better actor than his reputation. But Ian McDuarmid owns the film utterly as the seductive Palpatine, dripping poison in Anakin’s ear and ultimately corrupting him. And there are depths here. Palpatine is Augustus- not a military man but nevertheless destroying his Republic, institution by institution, until he is suddenly being referred to as emperor. There are rich themes here, echoing late Republican Rome but dealing with questions of security versus liberty- you can tell the War on Terror was a live issue- of constitutional liberalism versus convenient tyranny, and of the philosophy of the Jedi, shielding themselves from attachment because that way lies “jealousy” and therefore “greed”. But does this emotional equanimity not itself lead to callousness, itself a weakness?

This is a surprisingly deep film. Plus there are so many coolest pieces including Count Dooku fighting Anakin and Obi Wan with lightsabers (Christopher Lee is eighty-three here); General Grievous and his four lightsabers; Yoda versus the Emperor; and many more. But what will stay in my mind will be Padme’s horrified rejection of what Anakin has become. A brilliant, entertaining and surprisingly deep film.

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones (2002)

“I’m programmed for etiquette, not destruction.”

I tried to like The Phantom Menace but, while I found a good concept at its core, I didn’t entirely succeed. This time around, despite a couple of uncharismatic leads, I was surprised to find a film that was pretty damn good.

Ewan McGregor, though a good actor, is far too hopelessly miscast and awkwardly stiff as Obi Wan, a problem which remains. I didn't find Hayden Christensen t all bad as Anakin, despite his reputation, and his acting is sound- but he just doesn't have the charisma. These two aside, though, we have an engaging cast led by Natalie Portman, a superb baddie in Christopher Lee, and a bigger role for the Jedi council. We also have an exciting and well structured film that both cleverly moves the plot arc forward and convincingly develops the characters.

The main arc- the beginning of the clone wars and Palpatine assuming more power, chipping away at democracy in the beleaguered Republic as he ostensibly increases its security with a clone army-hints at an old tension between liberty and security, and it's clear that Anakin, influenced as much by Palpatine as his actual mentor Obi Wan, is on the side of the authoritarians. Yet I'm surprised more is not made of the Roman parallels- a Republic with an overstretched web of territory becoming more and more swayed by the necessity of a strong military, and even a popular politician manipulating himself into the position of Dictator, like Caesar. The political skulduggery is very well handled indeed.

Yet so is the gradually and convincingly developing romance between Padme and Anakin, which is entirely believable. And Anakin begins as likeable and not really a bad bloke- what's wrong with reasonably questioning authority, having a sexuality, being idealistic? And his only sins here are the urge to protect his mother and the woman he loves. It's only when he slaughters the Tusken Raiders as revenge for his mother, including the children, and when he lets slip his authoritarian leanings, that hints of darkness begin to appear in him as they do with the Republic itself.

But there's also plenty of action throughout, some good comedy with C-3PO and R2-D2, and some actual wit and humour in the dialogue, a joy to behold. We even get to see a cool, Kiwi origin for Boba Fett (not named here as a Mandalorian!), a lightsabre contest between Count Dooku and the awesome Yoda, and a confrontation scene between legends Christopher Lee and Samuel L. Jackson.

I think I'll come out and say it; there are a couple of flaws, yes, but the second of the prequels is a bloody good film.

Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (1999)

“I have a bad feeling about this...”

This is the first time I’ve seen this since I saw it at a now long-gone cinema in 1999, and went for a wee during the pod race scene. My twenty-two year old self was not impressed, but this time I was determined to watch with an open mind. So, is this film’s poor reputation deserved?

Well, on a second viewing two decades later the film is perhaps maligned a little more than it should be: it’s not that bad, and has its good points. But the fact remains that, aside from the effortlessly cool Liam Neeson as Qui-Hon Jinn, none of the main characters are particularly memorable, or at least not for the right reasons. Ewan McGregor is a charismatic actor in other stuff, but hopelessly miscast (or misdirected) here as Obi-Wan; in channelling Alec Guineas he fails to just be the character. Jake Lloyd was never going to win any Oscars for this, but he's a child actor. However... Jar Jar Binks? Just no.

The film starts in an uplifting manner with those opening titles, but then the blurb refers to “the taxation of trade routes”. The film has a decent plot- the Republic is declining so Palpatine uses a dispute with his pawns in the Trade Federation to start seizing power by manipulating all and sundry- but it’s just so damn slow. And George Lucas is as awful at dialogue as he ever was, although there are a few genuinely witty lines.

Still, it's not all bad- although this is clearly set in the Star Wars universe it's notable, having watched this straight after The Mandalorian that there are notable fewer Easter Eggs and fan-pleasing moments. Star Wars is still trying to do new stuff here. Also, the effects are awesome. Coruscant is cool as a kind of Trantor-like city planet. The CGI- especially with the sea monsters- is excellent and groundbreaking for 1999. I like Anakin's role at the end, paralleling Luke in Star Wars- although it's perhaps a little convenient for him to have designed C-3PO.

Oh, and the virgin birth is a terrible and pretentious idea. So is that of the Midichlorians, although on reflection this isn't quite as awful; the microbial nature of the Force doesn't make it any less magic. Still, the film isn't all that awful, and aside from the pod race and the ending it doesn't drag that much. But "not all that awful" is as far as I'm prepared to go.

Star Wars (1977)

“You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”

I’ve seen this film so, so many times, but not since 1997, when I saw the restored version at the cinema. And that event is a bit of a watershed, isn’t it? Before then, George Lucas was widely regarded as a genius whereas nowadays he… isn’t. A case in point: I saw this on Disc Two of the DVD, as an extra. It hadn’t been cleaned up and the sound was awful. There’s no denying it, though- it really is as good as we all remember.

The thing about Star Wars (or, to give its full and official title, Star Wars) is that, for all that it famously revolutionised what would be expected of sci-fi special effects, it doesn’t actually look very flashy, Kurosawa-style directorial touches aside. It looks thoroughly convincing, yes, but the parade of monsters in Mos Eisley, for example, isn’t anything like as much of a spectacle as the scenes in Jabba’s palace from Return of the Jedi. None of this does any harm, though; the effects are all the stronger for trying to convince rather than to amaze.

It’s also notable that, much as Alien gets the credit for creating the trope of the dirty, lived-in, space opera environment, there’s an element of that here, too. But none of that takes away from the real, deliberate, fairytale quality, or to the clearly intended nods to the movie serials of many decades earlier. The opening text is an example of both, I think.

For the first time, we open on a bit of spaceship porn, as per all of these movies. The opening blurb handily allows us to start halfway through the story, as Princess Leia’s shop is attacked by Imperial troops desperate to retrieve the McGuffin she has in her possession. Interestingly, though, we see most of this through the, er, eyes of two “’droids”, C-3PO and R2-D2. Being low status characters, these two can instantly play a role in the narrative familiar from, again, Kurosawa, but also stretching way back through the history of the “comedy peasant” trope. It helps that they’re both so endearing, and Artoo is so cute. Their rapport is wonderful, which is critical, as they are more-or-less the heart of the first half-hour of the film.

So, our two droids are dispatched to Tattooine on a secret mission, pursued by the troops of the fantastic Darth Vader. Darth must be the most brilliant looking baddie ever, and James Earl Jones has the perfect voice for him. Here they’re both captured by Jawas, and this leads to something about the Star Wars films that has always troubled me. Because Threepio and Artoo are portrayed as sentient beings with personalities and feelings, yet they are the “property” of others, slaves in fact. Indeed, we see Luke Skywalker, the hero of the trilogy, buying them both from these slave traders along with his Uncle Owen. If the hero is allowed to do this, does this mean the film is ok with slavery?  There’s certainly no indication of any characters having any ethical qualms.

Luke is established as young, in his teens, suffering a rather humdrum home life on a farm, and being denied his rather more glamorous destiny by his boring old uncle. It’s not hard to see why a large portion of the audience would identify with this. Sure enough, Luke is soon introduced to a bigger and more exciting world by hermit Obi-Wan Kenobi, one for which he was destined. Much of the film’s audience must have been hoping for a similar fate. It’s no accident that fairytales are full of narratives like this.

Obi-Wan tells us that he’s a Jedi Knight, he fought in the “Clone Wars”, and that he’s a friend of Luke’s late father, also a Jedi Knight. The Jedi Knights were, apparently, great heroes in the “Old Republic”, before the coming of the empire, after which they were hunted down by Darth Vader, a Jedi turned bad. We’re told explicitly that Vader killed Luke’s father. This is fairytale stuff and, interestingly, in its political elements is clearly inspired by the Roman Republic and its slide into empire.

The Jedi are basically good wizards, like Gandalf and his mates, and the Force is simply magic. For all its sci-fi trappings, this is unmistakably a work of fairytale fantasy.

Luke’s uncle and aunt are conveniently killed by Imperial Stormtroopers, which handily allows him to accompany Obi-Wan on his mission to Alderaan. But first they need a pilot, and this brings them to Mos Eisley. Here we meet smuggler Han Solo (who definitely shoots Greedo first), who agrees to take four passengers to Alderaan for oodles of cash, mainly because he owes several more oodles of cash to someone called Jabba the Hutt.

I have to pause here to praise Alec Guinness. George Lucas doesn’t, as Harrison Ford has famously said, write the best dialogue, and Obi-Wan gets some of the worst lines, many of which look cringe-inducingly bad on paper: see the quote up there at the top. And yet Guinness makes even these lines seem acceptable. That’s bloody good acting.

Incidentally, I adore the interaction between Han and Obi-wan when Luke is being trained in the ways of the Force, blinded. Obi-Wan is a character who belongs in a fantasy film, as shown most blatantly in his comments about a lightsabre being better than a blaster. Han, on the other hand, is a character who belongs in a sci-fi film, and so of course he is sceptical about magic and can see that a sword, even a fancy one made of light, is obviously no good against a blaster! This is fantastic metatextual fin, winking at the audience and alerting us to the clash of genres through their respective spokesmen.

Interesting, is it not, that the Millennium Falcon has a navigation computer which takes ages to make the calculations needed before they can “jump to lightspeed”? This may be a world of magic powers and casual interstellar travel, but their state-of-the-art computers are well behind my iPhone.

I seem to be reviewing a lot of films with Peter Cushing in, and here he is again as the Grand Moff Tarkin, and deliciously evil he is too. It’s he who informs us that the Imperial Senate has been dissolved by the emperor, and that the Empire is now to become a fully-fledged totalitarian state. It’s also he who sentences Leia to death, and who cruelly vaporises her home planet of Alderaan even after she’s told him the location of the rebel base. The dastardly swine. Good job she lied.

Our heroes are drawn to the Death Star by its tractor beam, like flies to a web, and we now get to the most fun bit of the film, as our heroes set out to disable the tractor beam and rescue Leia. Carrie Fisher is great as the princess, subverting all the stereotype of the passive damsel in distress by kicking whatever ass she ever happens to come across. These sequences are also crucial in that we get to know and like Han Solo, who is established as cynical, but also funny, brave and with a heart of gold underneath. This is still very movie serial, of course; the bit in the garbage compactor is the most movie serial thing ever. That is, until we get to Luke, Leia and the missing bridge…

Our heroes escape, but not without an exciting dogfight, and not before Obi-Wan, mysteriously and calmly, simply stops fighting and allows himself to be slain by Vader. But their ship has a tracer hidden aboard, and the crew of the Death Star now know the location of the rebel base. Fortunately, though, the plans to the Death Star just happen to rather conveniently reveal a massive and rather implausible weakness. Can the rebels destroy the Death Star before it destroys them?

Luke volunteers to take part in the assault, and seems to be given a rather senior role for someone who’s only been in the Rebel Alliance for five minutes. We know the goodies are going to win, of course; Tarkin tempts fate by refusing an evacuation, and Vader, who we know isn’t going to die, leaves the Death Star to fight Luke in a ship of his own. But the rebels have an uphill struggle, and can’t count on any help from Han, who has buggered off with his money.

Of course, it’s all right in the end, as Han makes a heroic return and Luke uses the force to destroy the Death Star. Our fairytale has a fairytale ending, but the story has only just begun…