Revenge of the Sith

Consider the following in light of my movie-going experience the night of the premiere: planned to go to the midnight show, spent the preceding hours drinking around town, etc. These are first impressions, they may or may not be revised once I’ve actually seen the movie while I’m somewhat coherent.

First impressions are usually correct, anyway.

It was shite. We all expected shite and our expectations were roundly fulfilled. Anyone who ranks any of the modern trilogy or speaks their names in the same sentence with the original “Holy” trilogy is an idiot. I don’t mean to imply that Lucas is some sort of apostate or that he somehow doesn’t have the exclusive right to do whatever he likes in film – I just mean to imply that the brilliance of the Holy Trilogy has been proven a flash in the pan, a bit of beginner’s luck, never to be repeated. I’ll continue to buy Star Wars books, DVDs, comics and other paraphenalia. I’ll watch the forthcoming TV show although it scares me like hell.

But I’ll feel dirty doing it.

The flaws in this film were not as glaring as the flaws in the first two: Less forthrightly silly and/or too-time-specific dialog, less obvious CGI, more action. The only thing that really made me want to projectile vomit in the general direction of the screen was the ridiculously melodramatic Vader animal cry immediately after his creation. We now know, contrary to what we thought we knew, that Vader isn’t a bad-ass, he’s just a whiny little bitch who hides his angst behind a mask and the ability to remotely crush the windpipe of anyone who sees him weeping softly into his downy pillow in the evening.

Wanker.

Obi-Wan comes off the best. A hard-core, wizened bad-ass who’s depressed about the way things turned out but still perfectly comfortable doing what needs to be done. No shades of grey here, very black and white.

I’m glad the horror is finally at an end. I wish these films had never been made, but having been made, I suppose I can find some solace in the fact they’ve introduced a new generation to these stories and characters. What’s funny is that some of these kids who loved Jar Jar will look at the Holy Trilogy in a couple of years and think, “Man, what a piece of crap.”

It’ll still be funny when I punch them in their stupid, infantile nose.