Always one to pursue useless knowledge wherever he can find it in a seemingly never-ending quest to achieve the improbable and downright unlikely status of modern-day Renaissance man, Mark Bittmann has indulged his desire to never be lost in any conversation, by developing an arcane understanding of things of little consequence or import while maintaining his alleged status as a small fish in a small pond.
As long as his self-indulgent whim is catered to, he manages to sustain the facade of someone under the misperception that others care about what he thinks. With a ubiquity normally reserved for greenhouse gasses, he chases his random and inconsequential thoughts with all the tenacity of a banana peel. This is his life, his curse, and his twisted and maniacal way of impressing the ladies.
Well it’s official. I can safely say that unless George Lucas is bitch-slapped into the Negative Zone and channels the imagination of J.R.R. Tolkien, the character-juggling adroitness of Billy Wilder, the pathological brilliance of the Bard and the cosmological spirituality of that once possessed of, oh, say…Einstein, there will never be another good Star Wars movie.
I just saw the silly-titled Attack of the Clones and what a steaming pile of Taun-Taun doo-doo it was. I was encouraged by the trailer shown in theatres, except for the kissing stuff (ew!). Not that I don’t think romance belongs in Star Wars (Han and Leia did it), but it’s execution was obviously inspired by Titanic’s template of mixing youth, romance and action. That much was wholly apparent whether it was originally part of Lucas’ story or not. Doubtless it is a formula has been used with great success in the post-Titanic age of spectacle –from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to Spider-Man. The difference between the emotional resonance in the romantic interludes within Crouching Tiger, Spider-Man and those of Star Wars is that the former two movies were well-told stories of three-dimensional characters not directed by someone who’s primary concern is the production of toys, video games and all manner of ancillary licensed merchandise. Consequently, the romantic plights of Mi Lu Bai, Shao-Lin, Peter Parker and Mary Jane ring a tad truer than the Star Wars kids’. How is it that such an emotional and integral branch of the Star Wars family tree managed to feel so, well…wooden? They’re Luke and Leia’s parents for God’s sake, doesn’t it make sense to have their relationship a little more integral to the goings on than drippy proclamations of longing and goo-goo eyes in a meadow inhabited by creatures large enough for one to ride and probably fall into the no doubt considerable and gamey feces of? The problem with Lucas is that being the marketing whore that he is, everything in his movies can be traced back to it’s origins as fodder to Hollywood grosses.
When Joseph Campbell unfortunately began to acknowledge the coincidental mythological underpinnings to the Star Wars universe that Lucas touched upon, long time Star Wars fans were treated to the misfortune of Lucas subsequently believing it himself and began to buy his proclamations of how he meant to imbue his creation with classic mythological archetypes. Nonsense. Lucas’ inspiration came from comic books and old movies, not Bullfinch’s mythology or Homer. Anyone with even a passing familiarity with classic cinema can see it. Threepio and R2 are basically the Tin Woodsman and Toto. Pod racing is inspired by the drag racing he did as a teen (as he paid homage to in American Graffiti) and Charleton Heston in a chariot. In other words, Helios and Ben Hur inspired the Pod race…after a fashion. The coliseum creature fight appears to be nothing more than a failed attempt to outdo Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. Lucas claims to have looked back millennia for his inspiration for the first set of films, but for Attack of the Clones, he hasn’t glanced any further back than 1997’s Titanic –and he probably saw that movie on DVD. Any assertion by Lucas that he intentionally meant to instill his series with classic mythological archetypes appears to be a classic case of revisionist history. Had he taken his cues from mythology, he wouldn’t have written himself into so many narrative corners like that “certain point of view” crap Obi-Wan tried shoveling in Return of the Jedi (which is still stuck to my sneakers), and the clumsy handling of Luke and Leia being twins and their love triangle with Han. Had he employed the time and literary-tested mythological structure he claims, the story for the currently produced trilogy would have the scope, scale and feel of episodes 4 and 5. Unfortunately, something happened at Skywalker Ranch one day and Lucas was overcome with a case of cutsiepooitis and decided to have Luke, Leia and company frolic with Teddy bears on the planet Ruxpin in Return of the Jedi; the series has been awash in a bunch of child-pandering, namby pamby, castrated drivel ever since. Viewers are now treated to such narrative gems and sophomoric drama in the manner of Shmi (Gesundheit!) being kept alive by Sand People for at least a month, just in time to die in Annakin’s arms –perhaps the most emotionally vapid moment in the history of the series – to the yawn-inducing, alleged irony of Palpatine’s military chessboarding. I haven’t seen strategic manipulation that complex since my last game of “Battleship”.
Ooh, the drama.
The real irony in Star Wars lay in that it’s “creator” (more like approver of other people’s design work and artisanship) hasn’t got a clue as to what it is that once made the property he owns tick. He’s hamstrung by the story’s established parameters and hasn’t the slightest clue as to how to convincingly or entertainingly move us from point “A” to point “B.” There’s no “there” there. The spine of the story is trivial, pedestrian and in the words of a cinematic waiter offering a final morsel to a gargantuan eater, “waffer theen.” Lucas’ last two efforts are little more than a series of incidents, creatures and digital eye candy, not coincidentally, cross-marketable as tangible licensing merchandise. It features some of the worst dialogue in screen history. There isn’t an original thought, strikingly original image or narrative construct to be found in the dim, spontaneity-free screenplay. Yoda’s skin looks like oil paint, his hair like gossamer smoke and many of the aliens merely gross or silly and unconvincing. They look like special effects. They may move and speak and take breaths and fart, but they don’t live onscreen, they don’t seem real. The effects that populate these films are not so groundbreaking as to transcend the necessity of a solid story and, in fact, will be considered passé in a couple years time. Lucas seems to think that ILM has cornered the market on high-end effects, going so far as publicly dissing Peter Jackson and suggesting ILM help with the effects for Lord of the Rings because he doubted the abilities of the Kiwi-run shop. He is sorely mistaken. Companies like Pacific Data Images, Digital Domain and New Zealand’s WETA Digital are no slouches and rising stars, all producing effects in the same league as ILM and, in the case of Lord of the Rings, innovating them. Nothing in The Fellowship of the Ring looked even remotely as inept and unconvincing as the “Gladiator” scene featuring Annakin and Padme riding and taming exotic creatures. They looked like action figures strapped to a cat bound in a latex Halloween mask. Don’t worry, George will fix it in the third release, with other changes: Episode II.3 the Special, Special Edition. That way he can sell it on DVD to everyone three times. Trust me, he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing.
On a baser note, it didn’t help that Hayden Christensen makes a one-note, one character actor like Tom Cruise look like the Master Thespian, while the kid playing young Boba Fett may actually be as clueless a performer as Jake Lloyd –something I hadn’t previously thought possible. Is Lucas bent on casting nothing but talentless boys in his movies or what? Don’t tell me…Josh Hartnett will play Annakin in the third (likely silly-titled) installment, right? Never mind if they have all the chops of Arnold Schwarzenegger (read: none), as long as they look cute in their Jedi outfits, right George? Something tells me the vomit-inducing, Care Bear scene with all the little Jedi in class was the one originally populated by N’Sync and subsequently cut from the film, due to negative fan response to the notion. I may be eating my words here, but frankly I’d have rather seen some talentless boy band with a possibility of watching them being ceremoniously dismembered in the final battle than some “Awwww” inspiring kiddie crap like that.
Frankly, I’m uncertain as to whom is in greater denial: the fans who insist that these last two bits of nonsense issued by Lucasfilm actually pass muster on the Star Wars scale of greatness –with Phantom Menace being a zero and Empire Strikes Back being a 10 – or Lucas himself in his pathetic accusations of “the media” being responsible for the distaste Jar Jar Binks collectively left in fans’ mouths, claiming C3PO was disliked after Empire came out as well. Well …let me clue ol’ Georgie in on something: The reason Threepio was somewhat disliked in his role in Empire had nothing to do with C3PO as a character and everything to do with his characterization. All he did was bitch throughout the entire movie. Perhaps if he served a role in the narrative as he did in the first film instead of acting as the self-designated Complaint Department, viewers may have warmed up to him a little more. In A New Hope Threepio not only serviced the plot, he was also a suitable source of comic relief. Lucas maintains that Jar Jar is also intended as comic relief in Episode I, but no one at Lucasfilm seems to have had the balls to inform him that Jar Jar wasn’t funny and that the character only succeeded as an inept and irritating racial stereotype that the old movies he steals his inspiration from perpetuated and marketed with great and (in hindsight) appalling success. “Yassuh, Massa Obi-Wan, I’sa get that fors ya.”
The fans –particularly the older ones –when faced with expressing their opinion of the latest installment, readily acknowledge the problems with the dialog, romantic elements, improbable sequences of events (that sky speeder chase between Obi-Wan, Annakin and a assassin was ridiculously over-the-top) and questionable acting. However they also seem to be universal in their opinion that the light saber Duel between Yoda and Darth Tyranus was very cool. Agreed, but so what? The set-piece it took place in was silly: Obi-Wan takes a slice to the arm and thigh and just lays there, seemingly waiting for Dooku to telekinetically pull a pillar on him, while a newly-armless Annakin rests against him. Incapacitated to the point of immobility by mere cuts to an arm and leg? Our hero. And while the notion of Yoda throwing down in a light saber duel with the scourge of the galaxy is inherently cool, a good movie does not it make. It only makes for what should have been a better-choreographed and more suspenseful scene. But Yoda looked cool, right?
George Lucas insists he has a story to tell his way and can’t make the movies for the fans? The hell he can’t. All he need do is tell his story in the same compelling, competent, entertaining, adult and thought-provoking manner he did with the original film. Sadly, his own second and third attempts at directing episodes of the franchise prove glaringly and distinctly that whatever skills he once possessed as a storytelling filmmaker have diminished and been neglected in his zeal to master the technology behind the magic.
Wait until December, go to a movie theater, sit back and be dazzled, captivated and mesmerized by The Two Towers. Grandmaster Tolkien and his incredible tale will be filled with the same passion and zest evident in The Fellowship of the Ring and it’s highly literate story will slyly expose George Lucas’ pseudo-mythological construct for the simple character marketing database it has devolved into, and make Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones look as amateurish as their chief architect’s directorial skills. With every Lord of the Rings film done right, Star Wars looks a little less deep, less relevant and more derivative not only of old movies, but of Tolkien’s masterwork. Peter Jackson isn’t missing a trick in telling the tale of Middle Earth and he’s just getting warmed up. He and his crew are telling the story of Frodo and company with the all assured, resonant, thrilling vision of the original source material without losing the essence of what makes The Lord of the Rings the benchmark of literary fantasy it is. Lucas should take a few cues from Peter Jackson if he is to retrieve what was once an imaginary universe of wonder and spiritual revelations from the soulnessness of the perfect, mindless, digital bag of tricks he did create and is now a slave to.
