Thursday, May 19, 2005

Revenge of the Sith

Just got back from the midnight show at the local theater. First in line, first in theater, and all that. Yee haw. That'll be something to tell the grandkids, assuming that I ever have any. Revenge of the Sith is easily the best of the three new pictures, and compares well with the first three. The Empire Strikes Back it ain't, but that's OK. I won't spoil anything for the hordes of people who haven't yet seen it, so don't look for plot details just yet. I'll say this, however: Anyone trying to link either Darth Vader or Chancellor Palpatine to George W. Bush will have an impossible task; Junior's not capable of the kinds of things that we see these two get up to. It's nice to shatter a meme in the making, after all. This movie pretty much seals Darth Vader's claim to be the ultimate [redacted], state of the [redacted] art, with apologies to Private W. Hudson, USCM. John Podhoretz, you may be all that and the proverbial bag of chips in writing for magazines, but you, sir, fail miserably as a critic of the Star Wars saga. For once, I wasn't rolling my eyes and averting my gaze at an awful picture, so by that (admittedly vague) test, Revenge of the Sith wins. Mr. Podhoretz joins Stephen Moore in the column of National Review columnists who I won't be paying attention to. I had several vocal cheers, several exclamations of surprise (or laughter) and was generally impressed with the film. It took Lucas twenty-eight years, but he finally managed to hold my attention from the director's chair once again. The one thing that stuck out at me was that certain headgear for a particular officer class looked inaccurate, but I'll leave it to the people who keep close track of these things. Setting that aside, I was impressed by several recognizable homage shots, and a touch or two of Spielberg in a particular action sequence. I also appreciated the way the movie managed to illustrate a tremendous amount of activity spanning nigh-on twenty years in just a few minutes. More testimony to the power of the moving picture, I suppose. Gimme a black cape and similar robes any day. Just have Miss Portman waiting in the wings...


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