Here are the Lair, we’ve been re-watching Star Wars<\/i> in the Machete order – the first two of the original trilogy, the second two of the “prequels” as an extended flashback, and finally Return of the Jedi<\/i> – before seeing the new film.<\/p>\n
We just watched Revenge of the Sith<\/em>, which I’d never seen. Attack of the Clones<\/i><\/a> was it for me, when they first came out – I was done<\/a>.<\/p>\n And… as everyone said, Sith<\/i> is by far the least bad of the prequel trilogy. I was expecting that. And I was going along with it, letting some of the dumbest shit go, and seeing how some things actually kind of worked kind of okay, even if other things often didn’t, and then, we’re getting seriously into the meat of the film, and…<\/p>\n …I swear to the gods I was not expecting this…<\/p>\n …there is a moment of cinema<\/em>. Actual, honest, sincere, working<\/em> cinema. No dialogue, nearly no action, just camera, just actors being allowed – for once! – to act, and it is beautiful<\/em>.<\/p>\n And it punched me in the gut. Hard. Partly because for the first<\/em> time, I felt some kind of emotional connection to these characters. Woah, Not Expecting That, as they say. Partly because a critical relationship is sold to me, for the only<\/em> time. Partly because bad decisions are being made that will create the situation we see later, and I buy that, too. But mostly…<\/p>\n …mostly because, goddammit, it showed<\/em>, it showed through<\/em>, it showed clear<\/em>, that somewhere<\/em>, somehow, lost inside that pompous egomaniac, that delusional businessman hooked on his own legend, that raving CGI-set addict who couldn’t direct actors to find lunch<\/em>…<\/p>\n …there is still a filmmaker<\/em>. It hurts. I started yelling, no, really, I did, at Anna, going, “WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED? THAT WAS CINEMA, WHAT? HOW? WHAT IS IT DOING IN THIS MESS?”<\/p>\n And it’s just such a goddamn shame there’s no Luke Skywalker around to make him realise that.<\/p>\n Revenge of the Sith<\/em> is still not a good film. One precious moment of genuine art does not salvage what otherwise succeeds merely by virtue of not being wretched. There are several moments of competence, and several near-misses – and this time, there really are<\/em> enough bones to make a good film. You can tell. You really can<\/em> see it, in this one – partly, I think, because for one, brief moment, it actually is a good film<\/em>.<\/p>\n Which makes the rest even harder to take.<\/p>\n