SWD: Strained Relations

The next 15 minutes or so of screen time encompasses one entire day on Coruscant for Anakin Skywalker. He is conflicted at every turn, and is pulled in several different directions by those he loves and respects. More than anything, this section of the film is meant to show that Anakin feels out of control and at a loss for a solution to the burden being placed on his shoulders. Ultimately, the solution he grasps will be the promised power of the Dark Side.

I will plug the novelization of the film again at this point because Matthew Stover does an outstanding job of making us feel the pain and internal struggles of Anakin in a way that makes his outbursts and neurotic behavior in the film take on meaning and depth. This section of the movie is a valiant try at a brooding, political, personal drama, but it simply falls flat due to heavy handed directing, cardboard acting, and clunky dialogue.

I am going to discuss each of the scenes in this day separately, though they do tell a contiguous story. The final scene of the day, a night at the opera, I will handle apart from the others as it requires a bit more unpacking than the rest.

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (00.33.17-00.42.39)

SCENE 1, Early Morning. Location: Yoda’s chambers. (00.33.17-00.34.41)

I really like the film noir look of this scene. The slatted blinds and the bright shafts of light filtering across the dark faces of Yoda and Anakin is a classic technique. It enhances the dark nature of their conversation, and helps to set the mood of the coming day: a few bright spots on an otherwise dark canvas. This is an almost perfect example of a character moment: brooding music, suggestive lighting, and deep, emotional problems. For a scene that is mostly two characters sitting and talking, it feels like more is happening, and that is a good thing.

It seems that after his bad dreams, Anakin stayed up all night, and in the early morning has turned to Yoda for guidance, despite having rejected Padme’s suggestion to ask Obi-Wan for help. The discrepancy there doesn’t make complete sense: why reject Obi-Wan and go to Yoda? The only possible reasons I can think of are these

1) in universe, Yoda is definitely seen as more wise and powerful, so maybe Anakin wanted to go straight to the top, 2) Anakin didn’t want to put Obi-Wan into an awkward position by revealing his code breaking by asking for help or 3) George Lucas remembered, very late in the game, that Obi-Wan had said something about training Anakin “as well as Master Yoda” and that Yoda seemed to know about Anakin, but to this point in the sequels they have shared less than 10 minutes of screen time together, so there needed to be a seen in which Yoda was “training” Anakin.

Despite the flaws revealed here about the screenwriting, I feel comfortable with a hybrid of choices 1 and 2 to contextualize this curious scene. It still doesn’t fully explain Anakin’s reaction to Padme earlier, but it certainly seems plausible. Ultimately, Yoda’s advice to Anakin is to learn to let go of things. If nothing else, George Lucas has certainly shown that to be one of Anakin’s primary flaws, so this is actually a payoff of two movies worth of conflict. (Yes, I did just say that George got one right.) This also helps to set up the allure of the Dark Side power that Palpatine will offer later: Anakin can save his cake and eat it, too.

SCENE 2, Morning. Location: Briefing Room. (00.34.41-00.35.41)

After communing with Yoda, Anakin rushes to a war briefing that has just ended. This scene is a good example of exposition done well. During the initial war report, which reminds the audience that there is a war, there is a visual of planets and information which is the remains of someone’s holographic powerpoint. It is rule #1: give the audience something to look at while you talk to them. Then, the conversation naturally flows from the exposition to setting up the next scene: Obi-Wan mentions that Palpatine is making a move for more political power, and oh, by the way, Palpatine wants to see Anakin about something.

Not only is the Jedi’s problem with Palpatine power grabbing introduced and made clear, but also Obi-Wan’s problem with Anakin’s relationship with Palpatine is brought up. Lastly, Anakin’s naiveté about said relationship is revealed, because for the first time he is sensing negativity about it. Obviously, up to this point, Anakin has considered himself lucky to be on the Chancellor’s radar, and despite his assertion in Attack of the Clones that Obi-Wan feels like a father, it is really Palpatine that is his surrogate father. The Palpatine/Skywalker relationship is very much a manipulative one, but Anakin, like all who fall into a bad relationship in innocence, won’t realize it until too late, despite the warnings of friends.

SCENE 3, Noon. Location: Palpatine’s Office. (00.35.41-00.36.46)

The major problem I have with this scene is the way it begins: a long tracking shot in the interior of the office in which nothing is said. And then the characters start talking. It is awkward and silent and slow. I feel like the editor should crop the first eight long seconds.

Palpatine asks for Anakin’s trust, and then reveals that he is going to ask the Jedi Council to instate Anakin as one of their members so that Anakin can represent Palpatine’s interests on the Council. Politically, this is a smart move, but as Anakin points out “the Council elects their own members, they’ll never accept it” (00.36.36). But, Anakin fails to realize the political significance of what is going on between the Chancellor and the Jedi. More than anything it seems like he got caught up in a situation he never wanted and doesn’t understand. Not to elevate this part of Revenge of the Sith beyond its reach, but this almost feels like Gladiator, in which Russell Crowe’s character wanted nothing of the political scene after Caesar’s death, and wanted only to be a soldier or a farmer. Anakin here feels like the soldier being asked to be an in-between, and he doesn’t know why.

SCENE 4, Afternoon. Location: Jedi Council Chambers. (00.36.46-00.38.19)

Anakin has returned to the Jedi Temple where apparently the Jedi Council was already informed of the Chancellor’s request and is now informing Anakin of their decision: to whit, he is made a member in name, but not rank. He sits on the Council but has no standing as a Jedi Council Member. Again, all Anakin sees is the facade of events, and is slow on the real inner intrigue. He lashes out at the seeming slight at not being made a Jedi Master without realizing that this has nothing to do with him. I give Anakin the benefit of the doubt here, because while it seems like he shouldn’t be this naive, it is understandable that as this is happening so quickly that he would be still trying to catch up. Furthermore, he is probably still more than a little concerned about his pseudo-prophetic nightmare. The hits just keep coming and he hasn’t had time to recover from any of them.

After his outburst, a bit more exposition is slipped in while significant looks are exchanged around the council chambers. Seriously, the non-verbal dialogue of this scene is pretty good. Without having anything said, the audience has a definite idea of what Mace Windu, Yoda, and Obi-Wan are thinking. Somehow this scene manages to be terrible and terrific all at the same time.

True to plot, Grievous is the red herring bad guy whom the Jedi are chasing while the annoyance in the Senate chambers is the real villain they should be examining. How the Jedi could be this stupid is still staggering.

This scene also illustrates something else more fundamental about Revenge of the Sith: it can’t decide if it is a personal drama, a political thriller, or an action adventure, and nailing down genre is vital to a film’s success. Because this movie is multiple things it feels distracted, undefined, and ill-contrived. It is all over the place, and here it is clear: Anakin is having a moment, there is political stuff, and oh yeah, something about Wookies. One wishes someone had made up their mind about what kind of movie this was before they made it.

SCENE 5, Afternoon. Location: Jedi Temple. (00.38.19-00.40.15)

After the council meeting, and now outside the chambers, Anakin vents his frustration to Obi-Wan while Kenobi tries desperately to salvage an increasingly deteriorating situation. Clearly Kenobi understands everything that is going on here, and is just as conflicted as Skywalker, but on much deeper levels. Obi-Wan reveals the catch of the council appointment to Anakin: the Jedi want him to spy on Palpatine just as much as Palpatine wants him to spy on the Jedi. Anakin rails against the Jedi and against Obi-Wan, and somewhat justifiably. He simply wasn’t prepared for this level of infighting and is ill-prepared to handle it. The Jedi are losing some of their high morality, and Anakin knows it. Having been a late inductee into their monastery, he maintains an outside perspective of sorts. Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, this means most of Anakin’s angst is going to be leveled at him as Kenobi is the closest most obvious avatar of the Jedi in Skywalker’s life.

Obi-Wan might have clearer insight, but he doesn’t know what to do anymore than Anakin does. The difference, however, is that Obi-Wan trusts the Jedi and Anakin does not. Thus, Obi-Wan has some external strength, peace, and stability while Anakin holds to none of the supports that he possesses. Anakin would have been much better off if he simply trusted someone, whether Obi-Wan, Padme, or Palpatine, but he doesn’t trust anyone much at all except himself, and he is very inadequate. While in Attack of the Clones he tried to ignore it, here he can no longer deceive himself, and he doesn’t know how to make up his perceived lack of power.

SCENE 6, Late Afternoon. Location: Republic Gunship en route to Staging Area (00.40.15-00.41.16)

Here Obi-Wan travels with Mace Windu and Yoda to a staging area where Yoda will meet up with the clones and Wookies he will lead in a reinforcement campaign to Kashyyyk. Obi-Wan is discussing his misgivings about Anakin’s “assignment” and Mace Windu is reasserting his misgivings about Anakin.

Personally, I had been waiting for this moment ever since Phantom Menace: “with all due respect, Master, is he not the chosen one?” The prophecy and Anakin’s status as a chosen one was the drive behind everything Qui-Gon Jinn did, and the reason why the Jedi decided to train Anakin. It was all but forgotten until here, and it is brought up to question whether or not their judgment had, in fact, been correct. This is all well and good, but isn’t it a bit late for this? Why didn’t they ask and answer this question 11 years ago? If the prophecy is such a galactic deal, and the ultimate fight between good and evil seems to be that big of a deal, then you would think that this would have been a priority of the Jedi Council. Only now does Yoda admit that the chosen one is “a prophecy, that misread could have been”. I wrote at length about my problems with this prophecy as a plot device during my analysis of Menace and Clones and here I reiterate that it should have either been a huge part of the story, or eliminated entirely, but when just hinted at and occasionally referenced, it is confusing and pointless and, ultimately, is a dangling, unresolved plot device.

The look on Windu’s face after Obi-Wan claims that Anakin has never let him down is priceless. Really, Obi-Wan, really?

SCENE 7, Early Evening. Location: Padme’s Apartment. (00.41.16-00.42.39)

This day ends where it began, essentially, in Padme’s apartment and between Anakin and Padme. Ostensibly he has returned to tell her of his appointment as a Jedi Council member and as Palpatine’s closest friend, but little else. (This scene begins exactly like Scene 3 began: with a long, silent tracking shot with an awkward silence. Again: should have been shortened. Don’t make the audience wait to find out why they are watching any particular scene.)

Anakin admits that he thinks this situation is bad, and that it is eroding every value that he claims to uphold. However, when Padme says the exact same thing, he yells at her. Hypocritical much, young Skywalker? Seriously, that exchange just makes him seem like a jerk, and does nothing to help the audience like their psychopathic, murderous, naively conflicted, wife abusing hero.

At least it makes sense seconds later when he refuses to agree to speak to Palpatine on Padme’s behalf; “make a motion in the Senate where that kind of request belongs”. Sure, he is being a jerk again, but at least it naturally flows out of his frustration at being the solution to everyone’s problem. He is obviously and rapidly losing control.

The scene ends exactly like it ended nearly ten minutes ago, with Padme and Anakin embracing. But this time, Anakin is not focused on Padme, he is looking beyond her, focused somewhere else. I can’t argue that there is no character development in this film, because there is, but it is very clumsily done.

The sun sets, but Anakin’s day is not quite over. He still has an opera to attend.

(00.42.39)

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SWD: Only A Dream

May the 4th Be With You! On this international day of Star Wars, I am working the entire day on SWD: Revenge of the Sith. “Hold on to your butts!” – Lando Calrissian.

Having somewhat dubiously saved the day, Anakin spends a troublesome night with his wife, and the focal point of the plot is revealed. These ten minutes mostly focus on Anakin and Padme, but in the middle there is a short scene with General Grievous. I will discuss that first, and then move on the heart of the segment.

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (00.24.52-00.33.17)

Grievous, having apparently escaped from Coruscant, lands on an unidentified planet, Utapau, and immediately makes contact with Darth Sidious. All of the imagery and set dressing here is meant to foreshadow the way Darth Vader interacts with the Emperor, and as I have already talked about that at length, I won’t elaborate here.

Immediately Sidious tells Grievous to move the Separatist leaders to Mustafar. This is said as if it has meaning, but because the audience doesn’t really know the Separatist leaders, or care about them, and don’t know where or what Mustafar is, or why it matters that they be moved, this statement is meaningless to the audience. In fact, the only reason the Separatist leaders need to move to Mustafar is because Palpatine is about to have Kenobi and his Clones descend on Utapau and doesn’t want the leaders caught in the crossfire. So, why not already have them on Mustafar and avoid an unnecessary communication? Why not have Sidious chew Grievous out for letting the Chancellor escape and at least let the audience have a laugh because they all know that Sidious is Palpatine? It is even unclear why Grievous wasn’t in on the plot to kill Dooku (making Grievous’ confusion here amusing). Nothing is said that wasn’t already obvious or unnecessary. In my opinion, all dialogue must be relevant and plot related and absolutely necessary, and this dialogue is none of those things, which makes this a wasted and pointless scene.

Meanwhile, back on Coruscant…Palpatine is explaining to Mace Windu why the war must go on. This dialogue is entirely exposition and is entirely for the audience’s benefit, and thus it is very boring. While all movies have to handle exposition at some point, this movie handles it badly, because the trick is to make the exposition interesting and not coma inducing. Think of Ocean’s 11, when Danny Ocean is explaining how impossible it is to get into Terry Benedict’s casino vaults. That scene is pure exposition, but what makes it interesting are all the visuals on the screen, the sound of George Clooney’s voice, and the revelation that the entire heist seems impossible. The audience has something to look at while all this exposition is going on, and at the same time they are thinking that Steven Soderbergh (the director) has shot himself in the foot by creating an impossible robbery. In one fell stroke, Soderbergh explained a bunch of necessary information, and got the audience very invested in his movie by making them think that there is no way the caper can be pulled off.

None of that happens here. The audience of Revenge of the Sith just has to look at some old guy and some black guy and listen to them drone on about politics or war or something. Very boring.

But then Anakin disentangles himself from Bail Organa, having been largely ignored by the politicians for whom he was supposed to be a poster boy of Good Jedi Work (again: setup, but no payoff), and meets up with Padme in the shadows.

Padme looks so relieved because there were “whispers that [Anakin] had been killed” (00.26.12). Sigh. No, there weren’t. Anakin is supposed to be a hero, and as such, very visible to the galactic media. Also, Padme is a Senator, and his wife, and you can’t tell me that she hasn’t cultivated enough sources so as to be kept well informed about Anakin’s movements. There is no way she was worried that the whispers were true. It is just like no one thought about this dialogue at all.

And, there is more exposition here, which, as it is whispered amongst heavy breathing and between kisses, is absurd. I know I just said that exposition is best when something else is going on, but it has to be the right something else. No one talks with that many words about such mundane things in the first few moments of passionate greeting after years (?) of separation. I know, ’cause I am married. All the boring stuff waits for halfway through the ride home.

But, suddenly, Padme remembers that their relationship is secret (“No, not here” 00.26.26), and she objects to Anakin snogging her in such a public deserted shadow. Seriously, she is worried about being seen and there is literally no one around. They are even behind a pillar in a dark shadow and if anyone did see them, they aren’t really identifiable. Just one more laughable bit of bad writing.

Anakin responds with “I’m tired of all this deception; I don’t care if they know we are married” (00.26.31). Um, “all this deception”? What constant deception has there been? He has been off in war; she has been alone on Coruscant: neither has had to actively deceive much. I know that Lucas is trying, desperately, to set up big problems here, but as the problems don’t really exist, it is so much smoke and mirrors and the audience knows it. Believe me: an audience knows when it is being scammed.

And Padme reveals that she is pregnant. And Anakin responds by looking murderously blank. I don’t know if this is the acting or the directing, but nothing in what is said or emoted here makes me believe that Anakin is happy about the “happiest moment of [his] life” (00.27.27).

After the Grievous interlude, the action shifts back to Coruscant and Padme’s apartment, where she is being the stereotypical pregnant woman: super consumed with her baby and hormonally in love with her husband. The dialogue here is really cheesy, but I actually buy it because it sounds authentically like two young people in love: they say dumb and cheesy things that only they think are cute. The audience might be groaning, but at least they recognize two people in love. I honestly would prefer a bit more adult and romantic language here, but Lucas needs all the help he can get, so I will cut him a break and move on to the dream.

This whole thing with Padme’s pregnancy is a bit odd and ill conceived; it is introduced and handled in a very heavy handed way, and Anakin’s troubles are not adequately explored. He gets a very general dream about Padme giving birth. Lucas doesn’t reveal the whole picture here, because Anakin jumps right to Padme dying in childbirth when all that the audience has seen is what looks like a normal, physically tumultuous birth. He freaks out about it, and we are supposed to understand that this is why he eventually turns to the Dark Side, but really he just comes off as paranoid and a little nuts. And, since he is a confirmed psychopathic killer, the audience has trouble really caring. Padme comes off as the sensible one when she has a hard time herself taking Anakin seriously.

Padme finally speaks aloud the fear that she and Anakin both have: that when the baby is born, the Queen will make Padme step down as Senator and the Jedi Order will expel Anakin. Really? Since when would a legally married, duly elected Senator be unfit for public office if she is pregnant? I get that Anakin has a code that he is breaking, but is there some sort of no pregnancy clause in the Republic constitution? They are acting as if this whole thing will be one big scandal, but I don’t really see it, and for the audience to buy that this is a big enough deal for Anakin to turn evil over, then it really needs to be set up, and there is absolutely no set up at all.

Lastly, given the impossible situation that they have created for themselves, rational and level-headed Padme looks for solutions and thinks of the wise, mentor guy that they both know and respect: Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maybe he could help, but for some reason Anakin gets all scowl-y and declares “we don’t need his help” (00.33.08). For the love of the Force, why not? I know that Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship is supposed to be strained and whatever, but that has not been shown. Up to this point, Lucas has actually been going to great lengths to show that these guys are real pals. For Anakin to reject Obi-Wan at this point, and so strongly, makes no sense.

But, their baby is a blessing, and all evidence to the contrary, who’s to argue?

(00.33.17)

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SWD: Damage Control

May the 4th Be With You! On this international day of Star Wars, I am working the entire day on SWD: Revenge of the Sith. “Hold on to your butts!” – Lando Calrissian.

Having dispatched Count Dooku, George Lucas sets about extricating himself from an increasingly embarrassing situation. Unsurprisingly, he makes an absolute mess of it. However, there is one scene in these next ten minutes that I actually do like.

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (00.15.06-00.24.52)

Palpatine makes a show of trying to leave Grievous’ increasingly doomed starship as fast as possible, but Anakin, somewhat naturally, is more concerned with saving his partner (who has conveniently slept through Anakin’s latest murder). I am uncertain how being thrown into a balcony, and having it crush your legs, would necessarily knock a person unconscious, but convenient occurrences are nothing new in the prequel trilogy. Despite being mysteriously unharmed, Kenobi remains unconscious. Palpatine tries desperately to get Anakin to leave said sleepy Jedi. I think he is trying too hard, and it is a wonder that Anakin isn’t more suspicious, but then, I suppose Skywalker has more on his mind at the moment.

Moving outside the ship, for a moment, we see that Grievous’s ship is about to endure some major hurt. I can’t help but wonder what Palpatine’s exit strategy was, assuming that he orchestrated this entire event. He arranged to be captured by his mortal enemy and his secret servant so that he could lure Skywalker in to a trap that ends with Skywalker murdering Dooku. Now, he is stuck with his budding protege aboard a ship commanded by his mortal enemy that is under attack by the loyal Republic fleet. So, what? Did Palpatine expect to simply escape from under Grievous’s nose with some ship in the hangar bay? Was Palpatine counting on Anakin to actually rescue him? Why not have a communicator to simply call for backup from the surrounding fleet? Why doesn’t Anakin try to contact the surrounding fleet? And, more to the point, why doesn’t the surrounding fleet make sure that the ship they are so eagerly destroying doesn’t contain the Chancellor of the Republic? You would think that an attacking commander would want to confirm the status of the Chancellor before blowing the ship to pieces. Stepping outside of the movie, this is what happens when a screenwriter doesn’t think through his script. Nothing makes sense, but it happens anyway.

Back inside the ship, there is a momentary return to the madcap elevator, as if Lucas hadn’t already exhausted that joke. First, it doesn’t work. Then our heroes run down the shaft. Then, in magically works. Then our heroes exit the shaft. The whole time Anakin is yelling into his communicator at Artoo, I suppose for comedic effect, but I don’t know because none of this is funny unless you are four. There isn’t even any tension in this scene because the audience knows without a doubt that every single one of these characters survives. This is the definition of mindless action.

There are two more homages to the original trilogy, first with the repelling line trick and second with Artoo’s periscope. Lucas is going crazy with the replica scenes here.

Finally, someone does something smart: the droids locate the Jedi inside the ship and Grievous confines them in a ray shield. Obviously he was under orders not to do so earlier, but now that Dooku is dead and the Jedi are “escaping” he has a different game plan, which only seems to include the Chancellor in an incidental capacity. One wonders why Darth Sidious did not give Grievous more firm instructions concerning the safety of Chancellor Palpatine, considering what happens in a few minutes.

“Wait a minute! How did this happen? We’re smarter than this!” Oh, Kenobi, you crack me up (00.18.00). This is a perfect example of a character asking a question that the audience wants to know the answer to, but in this case, the audience doesn’t mean the ray shield: they mean this entire situation. The Jedi should be way smarter than this, but they still fall for the most obvious ploys and misdirections. But, I actually like this exchange, which begins with “I say patience,” because role reversal of the student/master paradigm is a classic buddy cop technique. Anakin, the hot-headed impatient one is counseling the cool, suave one in patience (00.18.03). It is simple, and that is why it works, especially when Kenobi retorts with a perfectly deadpan yet sarcastic “do you have a plan B?” (00.18.31). This is the definition of partner repartee, not that inane “loose wire” dialogue. I wonder who wrote this section of the screenplay that was not George Lucas because it is light years beyond the stuff around it.

Anyway, the captured Jedi soon find themselves on the bridge and face to face with General Grievous. For some reason Grievous calls Kenobi “the Negotiator”. This moniker is never explained, and certainly doesn’t seem justified, given Kenobi’s easy hand to violence. What is funnier here, though, it what Grievous says next: “Anakin Skywalker…I expected someone of your reputation to be a little older” (00.19.04). I strongly suspect that this is George Lucas making a snarky reference to every critic who said that Anakin was way too young.

Then: Artoo goes nuts, the Jedi Force grab their lightsabers and slash everything in sight, and Grievous escapes through the window into space. Leaving his captured Chancellor behind to probably die. What were his instructions from the Chancellor again? Honestly, you would think that Palpatine would have made certain he would stay alive during this whole gambit, but maybe I give him too much credit.

Homage alert: escape pod POV.

With the crew gone or in pieces, and the ship about to break apart, Kenobi and Skywalker decide to try to land the ship. I really would like to know why they didn’t contact the nearest cruiser and call for backup. Even Anakin says it: “under the circumstances, I would say my ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant” (00.21.42). Maybe this is supposed to be another example of “the best star pilot in the galaxy” but when that same star pilot is saying that this isn’t even flying, I seriously doubt the premise. This is is an irrelevant demonstration of “skill” and when the character knows that, and tells the audience that, then the screenwriter really should change what happens. Especially when what happens is also ludicrous in every way.

Blah blah blah ship breaks up blah blah blah “another happy landing” – except, that is, for the tens of thousands of innocent bystanders who died when the other half of the ship slammed into the city scape (00.23.39). Perspective matters.

Blink and you will miss the Millennium Falcon’s cameo in the bottom right hand corner of the screen at 00.23.53. George Lucas has confirmed that the ship seen there is actually the Falcon, and not some random YT-1300 class Corellian freighter.

“Hold on, this whole operation was your idea…” (00.24.21) Yeah, really, hold on, what? That makes no sense at all. It was Kenobi’s idea to mount a two man rescue mission? If he was on the outer rim, how? And why? If this was his idea, the Kenobi is the most moronic general in galactic history. Bad writing. Poor planning. Careless craftsmanship.

And the rest of this dialogue is meant to remind people that Anakin the Killer is really Anakin the Hero and that the audience really should like him. Sorry, doesn’t work.

Anakin walks off to be the “poster boy” and Kenobi flies off to make his report to the Jedi Council.

(00.24.52)

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SWD: Wrongful Death

May the 4th Be With You! On this international day of Star Wars, I am working the entire day on SWD: Revenge of the Sith. “Hold on to your butts!” – Lando Calrissian.

A note of apology: my last post had incorrect time codes. They are correct in this one.

This section of Revenge covers a bit of elevator slap stick action and a bit of lightsaber slap stick action. Both are mostly deplorable action scenes, but the character moments in both are even worse. I’ll give George Lucas credit, though, he is trying desperately to recreate scenes from his earlier successes, but as he doesn’t understand why or how scenes work, he gets them mostly wrong.

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This section begins with the audience’s first look at Grievous. He appears to be some sort of cyborg, and is coughing. I can only surmise that the coughing is a foreshadowing of Darth Vader’s machine regulated breathing, but whereas the latter makes sense, the former does not. There is no reason for a cyborg to cough. At this point it is obvious that the Jedi were expected, or rather “predicted”, by Count Dooku and that Grievous is under orders to not interfere with their rescue attempt (00.08.50).

After checking in with Grievous, the scene shifts back to the Jedi in an homage to the Phantom Menace. I wonder how often destroyer droids approach Jedi and back them against walls. At least Kenobi and Skywalker retreat into the elevator instead of running like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did earlier. Also, I wonder why the droids would even approach when it appears Grievous is under orders to let the Jedi get to Count Dooku. Actually, the two Jedi, and Artoo, run into quite a few droids in the ship that seem to be on automatic “attack” mode. My guess is that Dooku/Grievous don’t mind harassing the Jedi a little (either that, or Lucas didn’t think through this scene).

Outcomes of a Real Lightsaber

Outcomes of a Real Lightsaber

Once on the elevator, the Jedi realize it is full of battle droids. Then they whip out their lightsabers and swing wildly through the droids until they are smoking pieces. The “smoking pieces” in the last sentence refers to the droids, but in reality would refer to the droids and the Jedi as there is no physical way to swing two lightsabers in that confined of a space without chopping up your comrade into little pieces. I refer you to the chart on the left.

For some reason after that the elevator stops working for no reason whatsoever. It is fairly obvious that this scene is mirroring a similar scene from A New Hope in which Han, Luke, Leia, and Chewie are about to be crushed to death in a trash compactor and they are desperately trying to get C3P0′s attention so that he can tell R2-D2 to shut it down, only this scene has none of the tension of imminent and squishy death. This scene is rather extraneous, boring, and more than a little “oh, come on!” It is sort of obvious that some pesky outside force (which I will suddenly decide to call….George) is screwing with the screenplay trying to be funny, and you just wish he would stop and let the Jedi get on with their “desperate mission to rescue the Chancellor”.

Oh, and “always on the move” makes me want to scream (00.10.01) but not as much as the “no loose wire jokes” exchange (00.11.11). This ridiculous banter is, again, supposed to show that Skywalker and Kenobi have a bantery, witty, buddy cop relationship, but the jokes and one liners are so stupid and elementary as to make them sound like little kids. Furthermore, Hayden Christensen is completely overacting his “hidden” Darth Vader in progress, so everything he says is said with a glower and that totally kills any comedic value in his lines.

Finally, however, the Jedi make it to the top of the spire and to where Chancellor Palpatine is relaxing while enjoying the space battle outside being held prisoner. I like how Kenobi bows respectfully to Palpatine and Anakin inquires about his health, but neither take a few seconds to release him from his bonds so that, I don’t know, he might try to run away while they distract Count Dooku. The devil is in the details, isn’t it? Those darn pesky little details.

Dooku makes a pointless little flip over the railing (seriously, the trope of Jedi and the Sith wantonly using the Force for pointless little CGI flips and jumps really is overused in this film).

“Chancellor Palpatine, Sith Lords are our speciality” (00.12.17). Since when are Jedi arrogant? Since when do they make light of the fight between good and evil? In the Original Trilogy this whole battle between dark and light is portrayed as serious, fraught with danger and meaning, and perilous to navigate. In Revenge, and the other prequels, it is a flippant thing.

I may be picking on something that isn’t that big of a deal, but there is a complete and fundamental change in the way the Force is portrayed in the prequels versus the originals, the end result of which is that the two trilogies are no longer linked in any real sense, thematically. That bothers me most because George Lucas is the creator of the mythology in the first place, and it really seems like he simply did not bother to stay consistent within himself about the way his universe works. I could be another fanboy whining about continuity, but more than that, I am concerned about the integrity of the work itself and the work’s author: it is shabby craftsmanship.

The lightsaber battle that follows is ridiculous (Kenobi’s hair flip, anyone?), full of stupid lines, and is comprised of laughable attacks and force moves. The CGI stand-ins for Dooku and Kenobi look like a clowns, things happen too slowly to be plausible, and really, are we supposed to believe that bulkhead didn’t completely pulverize Kenobi’s legs? What the heck?! To top it off, every time the action cuts to Palpatine’s reactions, he looks like he is constipated. I wish I was making up how bad this fight is, but I really am not. It is deplorable.

The one moment during the entire farce in which it seems like anyone was even trying comes when Skywalker and Dooku saber lock and Dooku says “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker. You have hate; you have anger, but you don’t use them.” (00.13.42). This echoes the Vader vs Luke fight on Cloud City, but where Vader was using his insights to taunt Luke in order to get him to lose control, here it simply seems like Dooku is making an off-hand observation, despite Christopher Lee’s incredible delivery. I wish that Lucas had picked up Lee for a character 30 years ago for the Original Trilogy because the man is one of the best villains I’ve ever seen, and that oozes out here. But, all that happens as a result of the one good line in the opening gambit is that Anakin seems offended by Dooku’s statement and he sulks by way of lightsaber fighting.

Shortly thereafter, the fight is over and Dooku is handless and I wonder what is with the hand removal fetish of the prequels. Luke lost a hand in Empire because Vader needed to seem completely heartless and to advance the conceit that Luke was becoming Vader which was payed off in Jedi when Luke cuts off Vader’s hand and fully realizes that he has indeed become his father. It was a thematic element, and part of the beautiful writing of the Original Trilogy. The cutting off of the hands in the prequels happens so often that it seems like somewhere someone decided it would be funny to have people constantly losing their hands (and or lightsabers) and that person would be George Lucas. (btw: Not funny, George.)

Anyway, Palpatine betrays Dooku by having Anakin kill him in the culmination of the most obvious attempt by a screenwriter to get rid of an inconvenient character ever. Grievous has been newly minted as the villain, but as the film already had a villain, Dooku needed to be taken care of, so Anakin does it here. So much build up, so little payoff.

Anakin whines about “not the Jedi way” but when he murders anyway, he just seems like a shallow, hypocritical killer, and not at all someone that anyone wants to care about or feel any emotion for other than contempt (00.14.46). Palpatine brings up Anakin’s previous slaughter of the Sand People, and all that does is reinforce the idea that Anakin is a murderer and already Darth Vader and even less worthy to be revered.

Allow me a side track here: I recently read, and forgive me, I don’t remember where, that a mother had decided not to show her kids the prequels or the Clone Wars cartoons because the “hero” of new Star Wars is a murdering, psychopathic teenager who turns evil, and, really, is that the kind of person you want your child to emulate? Back in the day we had Luke who, as a young man, took responsibility, beat back evil, and redeemed and loved his hitleresque father. Which would you choose to set before your kids as a good role model?

Food for thought.

Palpatine, having been “rescued”, now tries to find a way to leave his death-trap trap.

(00.15.05)

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Arizona and the All·Stars of Baseball

Last week Major League Baseball opened voting for the Mid Season Classic of baseball, the All·Star game, hosted this year by the Arizona Diamondbacks. I’ve been thinking a lot about the All·Star game, and two recent articles on mlb.com incited me to actually write my feelings out.

MLB columnist Anthony Castrovince writes that fans should be allowed to cast votes for the pitching staff of each team, while columnist Alden Gonzalez makes a case for keeping balloting as it currently exists. Read both articles, they are good ballpark food for thought.

My first thoughts are about who actually plays in the All·Star game, and how they are chosen. There are 34 roster spots available on each All·Star team, filled with pitchers and position players, usually around 10 of the former and 24 of the latter. Currently, each fan can vote 25 times for a list of 10 players for each team, nine position players and one designated hitter. This reflects the most recent change in the All·Star game which allows for a DH regardless of the league affiliation of the hosting team. The second most recent change to the All·Star game is that the winner of the game secures home field advantage for the World Series, either the National or the American League.

After fan voting is complete, the players/managers/coaches themselves vote for the pitching staff and second string position players. Lastly, the manager of each All·Star team selects about six players or enough to reach a final tally of 33. The 34th member of the All·Star team is a final fan ballot which selects from 5 players from each league selected by the All·Star team manager. Last minute substitutions due to injury, or in the case of pitchers, recent starts, is decided by the Commissioner’s office and the All·Star managers. Obviously this is a lengthy and complicated process.

Personally, I think that each fan should have the ability to vote once for 17 players. This would include 3 starting pitchers, 3 relief pitchers, 1 closing pitcher, 3 outfielders, 4 infielders, 1 catcher, 1 designated hitter, and 1 other player from a position of their choice. The remaining 16 players could then be voted for by the players, coaches, and managers, and the 34th player could be a final fan vote. Allowing fans multiple votes only exacerbates the annual problem of ballot stuffing, in which large market teams such as New York and Philadelphia can overwhelm the balloting, creating an extreme margin of votes. In every voting political system (that I know of) that is comprised of general elections, each voter can only vote once. I don’t see why this isn’t applicable to baseball. Fan involvement in the All·Star selection process is important, but right now I think the fans have a little too much power, and not enough available selections.

Beyond player selection, I have other concerns with the current format of the All·Star game: I remain ambivalent about the outcome of the All·Star game deciding home field advantage for the World Series. While it is nice to actually have the All·Star game mean something, at the same time, I don’t think the All·Star game is supposed to mean anything. As far as I know, the Pro Bowl (football’s All·Star game) is widely ignored by the football fan community. I watched the game last year, and the stadium in Hawaii was only half full. This is partly because the game is the week before the Super Bowl, and so none of the players from the teams in the Super Bowl participate, and partly because the game means nothing. Also, football players are so afraid of getting hurt that many refuse to play, and while this is an understandable reason to decline, fans want to see their favorite players play. I can’t say much about other sports’ All·Star games, but my general impression is that the fan reception is not much better.

However, baseball usually enjoys a large and positive fan reception to their All·Star game, mostly because 90% of the voted upon players actually play (unless they are injured, or as a pitcher, have recently pitched). I have never seen an All·Star stadium not full to capacity (and sometimes beyond). Also, the All·Star game is played in the middle of the season and in the middle of the summer. It isn’t buried in the dead of winter, after all is said and done. This breeds fan interest. It is played in the heyday of winning streaks, hitting streaks, and when most of the players and teams have hit whatever groove they are going to hit. Conversely, if a team or certain players aren’t playing well, it is also a time to step back, breath deep, and put the past few months behind them and remember when baseball was fun.

Ultimately, the All·Star game is a showcase of all the great players, both favorite and deserving (based on performance). It is every player a baseball fan wants to see in one place at one time (with some exceptions due to unequal balloting and the like). The bottom line is that there are many built in reasons to see the All·Star game without the home field advantage for the World Series being decided by the outcome. Home field advantage should be decided purely by the win-loss records of the teams involved, exactly like it is for each round of the playoffs prior to the World Series.

Moving on to another aspect of the game, I think what makes a baseball game boring for most people is the endless dance of pitching and hitting in which the pitcher takes forever to select a pitch, and the batter does everything to work the count for the best pitch to hit. The pitcher steps off the rubber, stares in at the catcher, steps off again, and then finally is ready to pitch. The batter steps out of the batter’s box, adjusts his helmet, his gloves, steps in, wiggles his bat, steps out, ad nauseam. This is actually what pitchers and batters are supposed to do to win games.

But those that watch the All·Star game want to see action and movement. Making the game count means that the players will revert to their tactics for winning baseball games. Making the the game an exhibition frees the players up to play the game for fun: by throw flaming fastballs and sweeping curve balls, by swinging at the first pitch and swinging for the fences, by making outrageous leaps and dives in the field. It would make the game dynamic, quick, and full of towering fly balls, screaming liners, and all the things that make baseball enjoyable to the wider audience of folks who like a day at the ballpark, and not just to those who wallow in the minutiae of the game, laboring over a scorecard and each pitch.

Generally speaking, getting people to watch and enjoy any sport is wrapped up in getting people to enjoy the game and helping them feel like they are a part of the game. Football does this well by televising the game with all sorts of cameras that put the viewer into the action, by commentators that know the game well and can make each play selection understandable to the viewer, and by a game that is predicated on multiple instances of quick action in which something is accomplished on each play. Baseball does this better at the ballpark than on TV, but it can be helped by altering the way the game is played, and the All·Star game is the perfect opportunity to shift the focus from winning to playing, and thus upping the energy while making it less vital to go all out for the sake of a win, while at the same time letting fans have a say in who makes the team so that they are excited to see their ballot choices take the field.

I think that if the player selection process was streamlined and expanded for the fans, while at the same time making the All·Star game more of an exhibition than a must-win game, it will remain fair for the leagues, and exciting for the spectators.

Either way, my votes are in for 2011, and I can’t wait for the Midsummer Classic from Arizona!

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Reflections in Film: Fast 5

Fast and the Furious: Fast 5

Fast 5

Fast 5

History: I’ve been a fan of the Fast and Furious movies ever since the first one premiered ten years ago. The Fast and the Furious was a gritty street racing film about an undercover cop, Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker), who infiltrates the racing crew of Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) in an effort to bust a ring of 18-wheeler hijackers. The first film, on the surface, was no different than any other “undercover cop” movie. The underground street racing scene hadn’t really been featured before, and Fast and the Furious showed it in all its gleaming fiberglass and NOS enhanced glory. While the plot was simple and straightforward, the characters jumped off the screen. Diesel’s Toretto was the meathead jock, but he was also the tortured family man. Walker’s O’Conner was the conflicted cop, but he was also the man looking for a reason to fight. Both were antiheroes for different reasons and both grew through the quarter-mile drag races and incidental violence between street gangs. Fast and the Furious was a summer blockbuster with a bit of over-the-top action, but it also had soul.

The success of the first film was followed by a sequel, 2 Fast 2 Furious, which showcased the return of Paul Walker but not Vin Diesel. This movie tried hard to duplicate the first film, exhibiting fast slick cars, street racing, and underworld glitter, but it tried too hard. Without Diesel around to inject hard hitting emotion, the film floundered with more of a buddy cop/Miami Vice feel and didn’t grow the story or the characters. For all its NOS powered flash, it felt like an extended race scene that was deleted from the first film.

Despite the relative failure of the second film, the franchise continued with Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift which centred around a completely new cast and the new country of Japan. Dom Toretto cameos at the end, claiming to be a friend of one of the film’s protagonists, a car criminal named Han (Sung Kang) who is hiding out in his version of Mexico. Tokyo Drift‘s story was one of a son’s reunion with his father, and was a coming of age tale, and while it heavily featured underground street racing, it returned to the first film’s success of story powering the cars, albeit in drift races instead of the franchise’s traditional drag races.

The fourth film, which premiered in 2009, returned to both the original cast and setting. Fast & Furious also moved backwards in time from Tokyo Drift, showing Han at work in Dominic’s crew, while O’Conner worked in a special task force at the FBI that specialized in fighting crime centered around street racing. This story had cars and story in spades. Dominic was forced to confront the consequences of his crimes, which included the death of his girlfriend. At the same time, O’Conner’s struggles focused on which side of the law he really belonged. Both characters took separate, but parallel, paths to the same truth: that together they are stronger. The film ended with Toretto choosing to stand trial for his crimes. When the justice system worked against him, O’Conner broke him out of prison. By the end of the action, the two characters had moved through each other’s worlds and into a new synthesis. Again, the growth of the characters and the story made this film more about people than engines, and was the strongest outing yet for the series.

Hype: Honestly, I wondered how the franchise could stay fresh. Before going to the theater to see Fast 5, I watched the previous films (except Tokyo Drift), and tried to imagine how things could advance forwards. Most long running film series tend to duplicate themselves endlessly, relying on formula and fan base for success (such as Indiana Jones and James Bond), or are a continuation of a single general storyline (such as Star Wars and Star Trek). Even from the trailer, it seemed like the writers and makers of the F&F movies were intent on taking this new sequel, and future films, in a decidedly new direction. I had read that Fast 5 was going to take the main thrust of the movies from street racing to heists. That seemed like a stretch to me, as the major crime in the previous movies was either perpetuated by an uber evil bad guy, or was undertaken by a protagonist trying to grab a little extra, usually for understandable reasons. I had a hard time seeing the car crew/family as criminals in it for the crime. Finally, while street racing isn’t exactly boring if filmed dynamically, it was, ten years removed from the original, worn out as a plot device. I was unsure of its ability to keep an audience, or even myself, interested.

I was interested in strong character development and an evolution of the devices in a fast and furious car series that had proven in could do the former and was shaky in modifying the latter.

The Good: Fast 5 proved that evolution is possible. Honestly, I have never seen a film franchise so completely reinvent itself. It was as if established characters were lifted from an established premise and put into a completely different genre. In my mind, this was like James Bond being extracted from a spy film and being put into a sci-fi thriller with aliens. Such things shouldn’t work. Such things are never done. (I can think of one exception: Star Trek IV, the one with the whales, which was bookended with traditional Star Trek memes, but was a Star Trek film without a starship or outer space, taking place on pre-space flight Earth.)

But Fast 5 worked, and worked extremely well. The brief glimpses of street racing were mere homages, or internal references. There was only one drag race, and it was played for humor, not as plot advancement. Each character stayed true to himself (or herself), and thus cars were involved, but only in the way that James Bond would involve his PP7 in a science fiction film: as a convenient way to shoot aliens. The film spent most of its time off the asphalt, and in the character’s lives. The first big chase scene was a chase on foot, and completely devoid of cars. The biggest, flashiest car featured in the film spent most of its screen time either being taken apart or put back together, not being driven at insane speeds through flashy nighttime streets. The characters didn’t really drive cars, or use cars to solve their problems. They used their non-automotive skill sets instead (talking, infiltrating, cracking, monitoring, etc). The big heist felt like something out of Ocean’s 11 or Kelly’s Heroes, involving cars only because they are convenient, and not really as a showcase for the cars themselves (which separates this film from the Italian Job, where Minis drive the plot).

Fast 5, of course, had fast cars and a car chase, but the film wasn’t really about cars. For the first time in ten years, it was blatantly obvious that the titular words were not descriptors for the cars, and never were: fast and furious are schemas through which to understand Dominic Toretto, Brian O’Conner, and their car enthusiastic team.

Finally, Fast 5 was able to connect all the major players from four previous and mostly unconnected films in way that made Ocean’s 11′s way of bringing together a huge cast seem like an amateur effort in collaboration. Fast 5 felt more organic, more real, than the Ocean’s films ever did.

The Ugly: Some of the action seemed implausible. That really is about my only complaint. View the trailer for the film and you will see Dom and Brian towing a safe through the streets of Rio de Janeiro with two Dodge Chargers. I am not sure I entirely buy that, but I allow it because, after all, Fast and the Furious is a summer action blockbuster. Despite the character growth and drama, this is not supposed to be a hyper realistic film in which everything matches the real world, so I don’t really care.

Also, I suppose that if you watch the Fast and the Furious only for the car bits, and tend to hate plot and character development, then you (probably) really won’t like this film.

The Personal: Over ten years and four films I had become invested in these characters. I wanted to know where they went next, and how they solved the problem of being highly wanted fugitives who themselves desperately wanted normal lives free of complications and the threat of 25 to life.

I’d also connected with O’Conner, adrift in a life I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. The trust and the love shown across such an incredibly diverse group of people who accept former traitors and cops is moving, and, it must be admitted, personally challenging. Fast 5 allowed me the time and space to project into that sort of dynamic and explore it for a couple of hours. For that, I find Fast and the Furious 5 to be a great film.

Final score: 4 out of 5 supercharged, NOS injected Dodge Chargers.

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SWD: Get the Chancellor

I should mention, before I really get going here, that the novelization of Revenge of the Sith, written by Matthew Stover, is a valiant attempt to reconstruct Revenge of the Sith in such a way that things sort of make sense and are the logical result of humans being humans (in most cases: some of the characters are not human, obviously). Stover completely ignores some events in the movie, and totally reinterprets others, and, if given the choice, I would rather read the novel than watch the film because the novel is endurable and, dare I say, enjoyable. The reason why? Good writing.

The film, however, is full of bad writing, and so I begin…

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith (00.01.50-00.08.05)

As it is almost two minutes before there is any dialogue, I will take these moments of eye candy to wonder what the heck is happening. According to the opening crawl which just faded into the stars, General Grievous has “swept” into Coruscant and kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine. It is strongly suggested later that Palpatine orchestrated this entire event simply to have Anakin Skywalker recalled from the front lines so that he could kill Count Dooku and be ripe for the turning to the Dark Side.

While this sounds good in theory, there are simply too many places where such a cunning scheme could go wrong for the Chancellor. Security would have to be told not to fight back, ships would have to be rerouted, and the Jedi would have to be kept out of the loop and somehow out of the fighting. Put this in terms of WWII and England. If Sir Winston Churchill were actually in league with Adolf Hitler and wanted to orchestrate a plan in which an elite team of Nazi soldiers kidnapped him and tried to make it across the channel, I highly doubt he would succeed without his connection to Nazi Germany being discovered, given the intense security around Churchill and the British Army stationed around England for the purpose of repelling any invasion force.

Furthermore, the recall of Kenobi and Skywalker, and their entire battle group, apparently, would be like Churchill recalling a battle group from the South China Sea. Unanswerable questions would be asked and the gambit would fail. The plausibility of Palpatine’s actions here are very much in question, especially given that at this point he hasn’t yet tried to give orders to the Jedi Council, who seem to be running the war, and it is they who would have to recall Kenobi’s battle group. I wonder if his was the closest most convenient group to recall, especially since there should have been defenses in place already.

I suppose it could be argued that the Republic cruisers we see actually are the orbital defense group and that just Kenobi and Skywalker were recalled, in their Jedi starfighters, to infiltrate Grievous’ ship, but why? Mace Windu and at least one other Jedi Knight are already on Coruscant and available to fly up into the melee, so why recall anyone from outside the system? This entire chain of events makes no sense at all. But, it is what exists, so assuming the extremely unlikely, Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi finally quit their pointless acrobatics and are staring down the gullet of spacial chaos at Grievous’ ship.

I must say, apart from being slightly overwhelming, this space battle is very well done, from a technical point of view. It is many things that the comparable battle in Return of the Jedi was, with a few homages to the attack on the first Death Star thrown in (ie Kenobi being Red Leader, and the early X-wing like fighters). It is clear this sort of chaos and setup is what Lucas wished he could have achieved for Jedi because he recreates it so well, down to the Emperor being seated in a throne on a ship with the battle raging behind him and a duel of the fates being fought in front of him. I’ll say this for Lucas: he never stops trying to perfect his films that were, in his mind, incomplete due to rudimentary special effects. That single minded pursuit of perfection is a good trait, for the most part, and one I can respect.

Anyway, at this point Kenobi’s squadron is under attack and a few of their disposable clone pilots are being blown up. For some reason Anakin wants to “go help them out” (00.04.04). Kenobi has to remind him to do his job: rescue the Chancellor. I think this is thrown in here to emphasize the trouble Anakin has letting people in his life die, but it doesn’t work because 1) Anakin has been fighting a war for three years with troops he has come to think of as disposable and 2) given the way he thinks about Palpatine throughout the rest of the film, one would think the Chancellor would rate as slightly more important.

Also going on here is a little banter between Kenobi and Skywalker. it sounds a little forced and superficial, and no doubt was added because, after Attack of the Clones, some audience members had trouble believing that Anakin and Obi-Wan were in fact friends. I’ve got no trouble with the banter, per se, as it isn’t really any worse than any other horrible prequel dialogue, but I point it out as one more thing added to revise what has come before, which is a direct result of failing to plan and write well in the first place.

Anyway, there is some drama with some missiles and buzz droids, and for some reason one of the best star pilots in the galaxy thinks it is a good idea to fire on his master’s fighter and/or physically bump into it. Other than that, I like the idea of the buzz droids because someone was thinking about the infinite options available with an army of droids. Why shoot a normal missile when you can shoot a missile full of droids that create havoc?

Finally the Jedi manage to land in the main hanger bay, and while they chop up some useless droids, Artoo finds the Chancellor. The Jedi immediately sense Count Dooku (and somehow not the evil Darth Sidious) and rightly figure it is a trap and decide to go anyway. Artoo naturally wants in on the fun, but is told to “go back” because Anakin needs him to “stay with the ship” (00.08.00). Um, why? Are they really planning on leaving in one and a half starfighters with three men? Wouldn’t Artoo prove useful? I understand that practically the droid would get in the way of all the running and fighting and madcap elevator fun, but there had to be a better way of getting the droid out of the way, like having him be separated from Skywalker and Kenobi like he got separated from Luke on Cloud City, or something. And then Kenobi tosses him a communicator as if a droid of Artoo’s specs doesn’t have one built in. (How else does Skywalker talk to him while he is sitting in the starfighter wing?)

Anyway, the Jedi go to spring the trap, and Artoo goes to pout about being left out of the action.

(00.08.05)

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SWD: Soap Wars or Who’s Your Baddy?

I am jumping into it with both feet, by which I mean that Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith does have its moments. Like Leia says, “Not many of them, but you do have them.” But, sadly, I also mean that Revenge of the Sith is bad, and not just bad, but atrocious. I begin, as always, with the opening crawl.

Star Wars Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith (00.00.00-00.01.50)

The crawl of Revenge runs until one minute and fifty seconds into the movie. Rather than reference time codes as I normally do, I refer you to the StarWars.com page that includes the entire text and will reference line numbers, as if this were poetry (but horribly bad poetry).

“War!” it begins (1). I suppose that Lucas felt, perhaps rightly so, that Star Wars had become As the Star Turns, or All My Squabbling Delegates, or Jedi Of Our Lives, or whatever clever soap opera title one wants to adapt to accurately describe the degeneration of the saga. Star Wars had gone from a stirring space opera to a lethargic soap opera in space. There was no real war in the Phantom Menace, just a few battles. There was no real war in Attack of the Clones, just a pointless, unjustified attack on a backwater planet that was not part of the Republic. Lucas, rather deftly, actually, manages to skip almost the entire war that should have been what Star Wars: the Prequels was all about: The Clone Wars. The Clone wars were alluded to in A New Hope with mystery and weight and feeling, as if it were World War II and women married the men that came home because they came home and there wasn’t anyone else. Lucas, for whatever incomprehensible reason, allotted the Clone Wars to the dark gap between movies and is now giving it the kiddy treatment over on Cartoon Network (and doing a bad job of it). So I suppose that Lucas wanted to remind people that his saga was about a galaxy spanning war, after all.

The entirety of the first paragraph of the crawl reads like it was written by a five year old. Descriptions are cliche and the sentences are as simple as those one reads in kindergarten: “See Vader run. Vader runs fast. Evil is everywhere. The Republic is crumbling. There are heroes. Padme is sad.” It is dreadful. Each of the next paragraphs is a single sentence, so why is this one four sentences long? And, my beef is not just with the structure of paragraph one, it is with the content as well. Apparently the war is being run by the “ruthless Count Dooku” (2-3). All well and good, except that we haven’t seen him be particularly ruthless, more gentlemanly and only slightly evil. And, as far as that goes, he captured a whole 20 minutes of screen time in Attack of the Clones and will have even less in Revenge of the Sith. The next two sentences are contradictory: “There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere.” (4-5). To whom is the “ruthless” Count Dooku a hero? The thousands of star systems that think the Republic is corrupt and just want to secede? I doubt they would condone his “ruthless” actions. The council of toadies that are his financial backers? In my experience those who are out only for profit and career advancement only make heroes of themselves or their bank accounts, not some “ruthless” political figurehead. And, evil, by definition, is not heroic. It is craven. It isn’t courageous, it isn’t bold, it slinks and it snarls, and nothing about that is heroic. This is non-sequitarian.

Finally, however, we move beyond the sort of general plot that Lucas has been stringing loosely together over the past half a movie, and into the direct set up for this movie, and we learn that a “fiendish droid leader, General Grievous” has kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine (7-8). Again, this does not fit at all with “heroes on both sides” as someone who is “fiendish” is not heroic.

Furthermore, who is this guy? Up until now, it has seemed that Count Dooku is running the war. He seemed to be the ringleader or kingpin in Clones, and this first paragraph has told us that the attacks which are crumbling the Republic are “by….Count Dooku”. I understand that Grievous could be the commander and Dooku could be the chief, but that has to be established and documented otherwise the audience becomes confused. In the Original Trilogy, we knew there was an Emperor who ruled the galaxy, and that Vader was his right hand man running the war. We didn’t get the Emperor for part of two movies and then suddenly get Vader for half a movie and be expected to make the jump. But, not to worry, because I actually do know why Grievous is suddenly introduced here when he, perhaps, should have been around since Episode One. The reason for Grievous is this: Lucas had a brilliant idea two movies too late. General Grievous is a direct analogue to Darth Vader (Lucas has said this several times in interviews, forgive me, as I don’t have references handy). Both are “more machine than man” and both are “twisted and evil” and both are “trained in…Jedi arts” and the list goes on. Lucas had a brilliant idea to foreshadow Vader with Grievous, but if that were the case, the main villain from the beginning should have been Grievous and he should have been a blend of Dooku and the General. A force wielding mostly machine Sith hunting down the Chosen One would have been fantastic, especially since we know the formula works, and when Darth Grievous dies unredeemed, it would give much more credence to Kenobi’s belief that Vader is unredeemable.

But, because Lucas did not bother to stop and think anything through or work with more than one draft, he thought of Grievous two movies too late, quickly inserted him into the thick of things and killed him too quickly for anyone to really get it. This is an argument I have been making since Phantom Menace and Darth Maul: too many guys who are not really that bad. The Original Trilogy had exactly one: Vader. It was always and only Darth Vader. He fired first, he strangled second, he dismembered third, he trapped fourth, he taunted fifth, and he never ever showed any hint of goodness until the very end. Darth Maul said nothing, but was a bad ass animal. Darth Tyrannus/ Count Dooku seemed like a good, misguided gentleman and wasn’t particularly scary or bad ass. Greivous is so over the top and cliche that he is boring. There is no one to care enough about to hate as a villain, and a space opera, heck, even a soap opera, needs an obviously evil villain. You know, the guy who is trying to kill the kids who don’t actually belong to their parents but are actually twins, and are actually the heroes’ twins who everyone thought was dead but who has been alive all this time and is really the bad guy himself! gasp Or something. Point is: clear villain.

Lastly, the film begins with a “desperate mission to rescue the captive chancellor” (16-17) and, in addition to the massive star fleet, the Republic sends exactly “two Jedi Knights” on this desperate mission (15). And, we learn later, they apparently had to recall Kenobi and Skywalker from the Outer Rim. What?? What about Mace Windu and Yoda and the (it looks like hundreds of) Jedi right there on the planet from which Palpatine is being kidnapped?

Sure, the mission is desperate, but only because the Jedi are total morons.

(00.01.50)

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gritty city aristocracy

it is the New York swing
of gritty city streets:
the classically original taste.

it is the silver spoon blue blood
aristocracy of the old world order:
the soft rich money.

the penniless king on broadway;
the earl of the back alley:
slice of red velvet cheese cake.

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the Comebacker

the batter snapped his bat
and up the middle cracked
a hit. the ball screamed
towards the pitcher,
who, still reeling from his writhing,
spun, and weaved, and ducked
and in the end, kissed the dust.
the second baseman stabbed
out with leathered glove
and snagged the wayward missile
and casually tossed the ball
to the first baseman for the final out.
the pitcher crawled up the mound
and stood still dazed.
on one half of his face his beard grew still
but the other gleamed, shaved clean,
clean save for a mark, angry and red,
red like the smacked back end
of a baseball’s stitching.

(inspired by a play during the Cleveland Indians at Anaheim Angels game on 11 April 2011, with Mitch Talbot pitching and Mark Trumbo at the bat in the bottom of the 4th inning. Trumbo was out 1-4-3 on the play.)

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