The Shortcomings of Star Wars I-III, Part 2

Shortcomings? In Star Wars?? Preposterous!

Yes, my friends, it’s true; even Star Wars has some room for improvement. Last time, I tried to write about the shortcomings of Episodes I-III but got carried away with what I liked instead. But today I promise to admit several aspects that rubbed me the wrong way in the prequel trilogy. Join me, won’t you?

WHAT WORKED TECHNICALLY

Ok, you caught me—this is one more positive aspect of the prequels. (A whole post about negatives wouldn’t not be terrible, right?) Let me just say that, for all the things I don’t prefer about Episodes I-III, I can’t help but like them anyway, and I have a feeling that’s largely due to their stunning visuals. George Lucas really has been ahead of his time with technology from the beginning, and the prequel trilogy is solid proof of that.

While he was taking a break from directing for a few decades, he was busy with his other corporations like Industrial Lights and Magic, the company in charge of the visuals for Star Wars (and a massive host of other films). The development of computer generated images (CGI) even between Episodes I and III is amazing. While the grass battlefield in The Phantom Menace looks like the early days of video games, the broad scope of cities and skies in Revenge of the Sith looks spectacular.

While Yoda may be new and improved in the prequel trilogy, my heart will always belong to the puppet.

Those developments took only six years, so consider how far the effects had come since Return of the Jedi in 1983! The last time we saw Yoda, he was a stiff puppet more akin to a Sesame Street character than a Jedi master. But the new Yoda is a boss! He’s slicing, dicing, and flipping around with his little light saber, challenging the Emperor himself. (Regardless, I still like the old Yoda better, even if his puppet mouth invites bad lip reading spoofs.)

But perhaps the crowning moment for Lucas’s CG is when we see Sir Christopher Lee zooming off on a tiny scooter. I mean, that alone is worth the price of admission.

WHAT DIDN’T WORK AS WELL

Story and Characters

Now, it would be easy to take cheap shots at these movies, but I don’t want to go that route. Instead, I’ll just make a few observations that struck me even from the first time I watched them. First, I must acknowledge a deep and abiding dislike of Jar Jar Binks. I know it’s nearly unanimous, but I had to say it. I can’t quite put my finger on why he bothers me so much, but it’s something like watching a clown bonk himself on the head and talk gibberish to get a laugh out of you, but you’re already an adult.

I don’t fault the voice actor; he was just following the script. And really, it’s hard to blame Lucas either. As a writer, sometimes things are just funnier in your head, and there’s no way to know how it will go over with a real audience. Regardless, I had to admit that I’m among the majority of fans who didn’t prefer the hapless little Gungan.

But does it surprise you that I also don’t care for Darth Maul? I know he’s supposed to be the ultimate villain in Episode I, but he has virtually no character development. We know next to nothing about him, he barely gets any lines, and we hardly see him until his duel with Qui-Gon. The best I can say for him is that he spends a lot of time on his makeup in the morning, and it shows.

Why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin?

Episode I gets a lot of flak for these and other reasons, but let’s talk about Episode II for a moment. My first impression after seeing it in the theater was the pendulum swing between flirting and fighting, flirting and fighting. And why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin? I mean, even Jar Jar would have been a better choice! At least he wasn’t brooding and violent. But hey, that’s just my opinion.

Acting

Aside from Jar Jar Binks, the most disliked aspect of the prequels may be Hayden Christensen’s acting. Next to the talent of Ewan McGregor, the poor kid can tend to look a little like a reanimated corpse. (I think it’s the glaring eyes and heavy lips.) Whether he’s flirting, yelling, or crying, most of his interpretation comes across like a junior high boy with a surplus of hormones. But seriously, what else could he do with some of those lines? And he was only 19 when Attack of the Clones was released, so let’s not be too hard on him.

For me personally, Episode I is the least enjoyable of the prequels. There’s Jar Jar, of course, and any lengthy racing scene can get a little tedious, but some of my aversion is also due to the pivotal role being given to a kid. No matter who he is, that’s a lot to ask from a child actor and an audience.Apparently, many people feel that Jake Lloyd, who played young Anakin in Episode I, gave a lackluster performance, and he seems to have taken the criticism pretty hard through the years.

But again, I think he deserves some slack. He was just a nine year old following the script and the directing. The story needed to include Anakin’s childhood, and so we find ourselves with Episode I. For good or for ill, it’s part of the series, so from now on I’ll try to focus on the positive aspects of The Phantom Menace. (Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn.)

TRUTHS AND LIES

No one would dispute that there are weaknesses in the prequel trilogy, and many a fan has vented very specific, thorough, and vehement criticisms of the films. If more of this you seek, look elsewhere you must. I want to end on a positive note.

The movie quality progressed from film to digital, but the truths remain timeless.

Storywise, Lucas hit on some timeless truths in the first six films: the sins of the father often affect the son, great change can come from small resistance, and no one is past the possibility of redemption. I would even agree with the digression from fear to anger, hate, and then suffering. Where I disagree is when he seems to imply that the real catalyst of this downward spiral is love.

The prequel trilogy seems to display that the only thing to fear is love itself. Although the Jedi are encouraged to act on charity toward others, they are forbidden to have romantic attachments. When Anakin secretly breaks his vow of celibacy and brings about his own ruin, is his deception to blame? Seemingly, no. It’s because he loves Padme so much that he fears to lose her and would do anything to keep her. Although most of us wouldn’t go on a killing spree and dedicate ourselves to a Sith lord, we can probably relate to the crippling fear of losing loved ones. So what’s the solution?

It’s not, as Yoda advises, to let go of everything you fear to lose. To live a life without love can seem convenient and safe, but it’s not how we were designed. We were created in the image of God, to Whom the giving and sharing of love is integral. That doesn’t mean everyone has to marry; we can fulfill that design by loving friends, family, and those around us. But rather than letting love blind and destroy us, we must strive to love deeply and in healthy proportion to our love for a good God who isn’t struggling to hold evil at bay. Good will win, and love will remain; there is nothing to fear. That’s easier said than done, of course, but isn’t it a much better solution than monastic celibacy or dangerous, obsessive paranoia? I tend to think so.

WRAPPING IT UP

Thanks for joining me in this lengthy discussion about Star Wars Episodes I-III! I’ve really enjoyed this series so far, and I hope you have too. I’ll be continuing to write about George Lucas throughout the summer, but I’ll sprinkle in other topics here and there for the sake of my non-geek friends. For now, it’s another happy landing.

Today’s Question: What bothered you most about the Episodes I-III?

2 Comments on “The Shortcomings of Star Wars I-III, Part 2

  1. Enjoyed your comments at large, and in particular your bit about Yoda’s misadvice, though to be fair it might have been limited to Jedi being soldiers, to love all generally (strength) but none in particular (weakness – Solzhenitsyn). My take on St. Paul is that he would have loved to have married but dangerous duty demanded celibacy, and that the “be as me” line meant “be committed” not “be celibate” (C K Barratt). That aside to love is to be vulnerable (C S Lewis), and I think Lewis trumps Yoda here. My only flinch is talk of god-types (polytheism): God is not a good god or any other contrast, but he is Goodness, the standard not a measured. I think Bible versions should factor this in in translation, and the CEV does it imperfectly best.

    • Good thoughts, Steve! I’m sure the Jedi way would make for very efficient soldiers. And while I certainly see where you’re coming from about seeming to compare God to gods, I think it may still be permissible to describe Goodness Himself as good–perhaps even as “a good God” with a capital G. Is He Goodness? Yes. But is He also good? Yes. I believe God can be honored by adjectives as well as nouns. 🙂 But language is fallible, and words can be misleading, so I do appreciate your clarification.

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