"Every generation has a legend.
Every journey has a first step. Every saga has a beginning."
Sure, but the problem is: What are you going to do for surprises or suspense
if 90% of the world already knows where your saga is heading? There aren't
going to be a lot of people out there watching George Lucas' latest Star
Wars installment, The Phantom Menace, and musing, "Gee!
I wonder whatever will become of that adorable Anakin Skywalker kid?"
The Rabid and the Regular
In theory, getting there should be half the fun, but, sadly, in this
case it isn't. There are other built-in problems with a Star Wars
prequel: most notably, how do you keep it interesting for the rabid fans
-- who know more about the struggles between the Empire and the Jedi knights
than they do about the Civil War, World War I, and World War II put together
-- without absolutely excluding those of us who have managed over these
past two decades to cultivate a few other little interests (for example,
music, literature, the rest of cinema, and other human beings) at
the expense of our LucasFilm expertise? How do you make sure that the plot
is comprehensible to the rest of us -- not to mention to the dozen or so
sentient beings on this planet who have somehow missed the first three films
-- without boring the fanatics to tears?
It's a tough assignment, and one at which -- it can be said with certainty
-- Lucas has failed utterly. Once we get past the opening weeks, when the
theaters will be dominated by the True Believers, it is reasonable to assume
that half the audience will be wondering just what those sinister shots
of Senator Palpatine are suggesting, while the other half will be yawning
at the sledgehammer obviousness of it all.
To give you perspective on where I fit in that spectrum, I really liked
the first Star Wars; I thought Empire Strikes Back was more
interesting, but less fun; and Return of the Jedi would be passable
if Lucas used his new, fancy-assed CGI technology to erase the Ewoks permanently
and blot out the nauseatingly sentimental fireside reunion scene at the
end.
But even the first film.... Let's just say: It was no Buckaroo Banzai.
The Phantom Menace in many ways continues the trends initiated in
Return: dumbing down the content for younger and younger kids; avoiding
any irony or adult point of view; slathering on the pseudo-religious mystical
gibberish; and replacing actual humans with an assortment of adorable and/or
sinister muppets.
Unfolding Events On the way, they have to land on the desert planet of Tatooine
for repairs, where they encounter a clever, towheaded nine-year-old lad
named Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd), who seems to be positively awash in
the Force. Despite the misgivings of the Jedi Council, Qui-Gon insists on
training the boy as a Jedi. Good confronts evil: good wins, but the film
ends with the stage set for Anakin to hook up with Amidala, sire Luke and
Leia, and transform into Darth Vader -- to be shown in Episodes II and III.
The plot is simplicity itself: this is the first Star Wars episode
for which one can do a detailed synopsis without spoiling any surprises,
since there are no surprises. The story revolves around a struggle to control
the planet of Naboo: evil ambassadors of the Trade Federation, under the
direction of Darth Sidious, are seizing control away from the fourteen-year-old
Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman). Jedi knights Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson)
and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) are sent to assess the situation, but
quickly find their lives in danger. They team up with a goofy computer-generated
"Gungan" named Jar Jar Binks (voice by Ahmed Best) and escape
with the Queen and her retinue to head back to the Republic capital of Coruscant.
Never has a film been so widely reviewed prior to its release,
and rarely have the reviews been so uniform in both their general disdain
and their specific complaints. It's no wonder: The Phantom Menace's
problems are obvious to almost anyone not devoted to the series. That no
one bothered to point them out to Lucas beforehand is a sign of what happens
when you become The Most Successful Filmmaker of All Time. Who's going to
have the gonads to tell you you're screwing up?
Creatures for Kids
For many viewers, the central complaint will be the extent to which
this is a kiddie film. There's nothing wrong with kids' pictures, but the
first two Star Wars pics managed to stay interesting for adults as
well. What's worse is that, despite having children as its primary target,
Phantom Menace has long slow stretches. Its perfect viewers are eight-year-olds
who don't mind a lot of talky exposition.
You may have thought that Lucas' taste for Teletubbie-level cutesy-poo creatures
reached its peak with the Ewoks, but you'd be wrong. Here he trumps that
dubious achievement with the cloying Jar Jar Binks. There are already complaints
springing up that Jar Jar is a racist stereotype -- a Stepin Fetchit for
the new millennium. He's servile and cowardly, and his accent is generally
being taken as Jamaican. These complaints are
wrongheaded: there is nothing to connect Jar Jar with old
black stereotypes. Jamaican? Jar Jar's thick accent sounds more like Fozzie
Bear than Bob Marley; if I hadn't already seen his name spelled out, I would
have thought it was Zsa Zsa. In fact, all the alien accents in The Phantom
Menace sound like either familiar Jim Henson creatures -- not surprising,
given the participation of Frank Oz -- or like John Cleese's deranged Frenchman
in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
Not only does Jar Jar not resemble old offensive stereotypes, but,
even if he did, the movie makes abundantly clear that he is a fluke among
his otherwise perfectly competent race -- such an accident-prone goofball
that he's an outcast among his own. Unfortunately, Jar Jar is the film's
main source of humor; and, for anyone over about twelve, he quickly grows
irritating. He's a less likable version of Big Bird.
The Humans
The human characters, unfortunately, display no humor and no interesting
traits. Qui-Gon is a somber stiff, and McGregor, despite his appealing twinkle,
is straitjacketed and underused as Obi-Wan. Portman, usually an excellent
actress, likewise seems ill-at-ease, as though she couldn't find a natural
voice in which to intone Lucas' portentous dialogue. As Mace Windu, Samuel
L. Jackson, a great actor, also seems baffled as to just what he's
doing there.
Even though the absence of Harrison Ford is a huge problem in all films
that Ford isn't in, there are other actors, McGregor among them, who could
have brought a modicum of charm to the proceedings. But charm is altogether
missing.
The Beauty of It
Without an ingenious plot or engaging characters, all you're really
left with are the film's technical achievements. And, on that front, The
Phantom Menace succeeds spectacularly. Lucas' people, always in the
forefront of CGI, have outdone themselves here. Having avoided as much of
the hype as I could, I didn't know in advance that Jar Jar was completely
computer-generated...and the illusion is so perfect that it never occurred
to me while watching that, of course, he had to be.
The production design is the film's most inspired area: all of the landscapes,
seascapes, and skylines are gorgeous. As a wall calendar, Phantom Menace
is a brilliant movie.
Understanding the Action
The action scenes are likewise perfectly realized. But, as with most
of the picture, they are far less well conceived...and realization
isn't worth much without conception. The high-speed pod race between Anakin
and the nasty Sebulba is certainly the standout. (If Ernie Fosselius, the
genius behind Hardware Wars, is still around, he'll have a field
day with Suburbia, Zsa Zsa, Cal-Gon, Queen I'm-a-Doll, Macy's Window, and
Anacin.) The race is so viscerally exciting that you can't help being on
the edge of your seat. At the same time, it's not a tenth as exciting as
it could have been if Lucas had written an interesting race. It's
a retread of the chariot race in Ben Hur, but without the earlier
film's clarity.
Clarity in action sequences has always been a problem for Lucas, even in
the first Star Wars' climactic battle. He doesn't seem to have even
a novice's grasp of clever exposition. So, in Phantom Menace, we
see Sebulba do...something...to Anakin's pod before the race. Unfortunately,
whatever it is, and what effect it will have, and how Anakin overcomes it,
is never clear. Nor are the contestants' respective strong points and weak
points. We need to know the process by which the race plays out. Otherwise
the "good guy" wins for random reasons, not through admirable
skill or cleverness. (The textbook example of the sort of exposition this
scene needs is the compressed-air tank shtick in Jaws: we know, the
moment Brody looks over at the tanks, what he's thinking and what he's going
to attempt.)
These flaws will neither deter the Legions of the Faithful nor keep the
film's opening weekend gross from breaking $100 million. The only thing
that's likely to bother the real fans is the new information the movie reveals
about the Force: Lucas has inexplicably reduced the mystical center of his
epic to a simple medical issue. After twenty years, now he decides that
the force isn't any more mysterious than a blood cholesterol level.
It's no longer a matter of belief. Now it's a matter of platelets.
Andy Klein is a film critic for the New Times newspaper chain.
He is head of the animation committee for the Los Angeles Film Critics Association
(LAFCA).