David Wickes
20
May 16:05
Revenge of the Sith – Redemption of Lucas
So today Dan phones me and asks if I'd like to go and see Revenge of the Sith. Now if you don't know what I'm talking about, go away. Stand in the middle of the highstreet. You see all that crass merchandising that's everywhere—that's what I'm talking about. Would you believe that there's actually a film beneath all that crap?But anyway, we go along. That's Dan, Josh, Chris and myself. All toddle off for the 5pm showing of Sith at the Apollo in Leamington.
Perhaps we need some context. It's not easy coming back to Star Wars, especially this 'new' trilogy (which is getting on for seven years old now--as long as I've been at university). When Epsidode I came out the world became a wonderful, magical place ever so briefly. All the amazingly geeky boys I lived with (including myself there) went out and got merchandise-crazy. The ammount of Star Wars Lego floating about in that hall was quite insane. I went to see the film with my parents, and for the two seconds between the opening musical 'boo!' of the titles and the first seven year old in the audience to start talking, I was somewhere close to heaven. I did rather like the first three, y'see...
Now I wasn't as disappointed as everyone else; it wasn't a bad film. But it wasn't as good as the first three. I've grown to admire it more on replays (it gains in stature as it becomes embedded in time with the other films), like it's sequel Episode II. But they ain't really Star Wars--Lucas wasn't hitting the right buttons, the dialogue was (and always has been) clumsy. The CGI was too flash. It felt too glossy. It wasn't Star Wars.
That is, until today.
George likes to think of the united series, all six, as being a story of redemption. One little boy grows up to be super amazing powerful, but brings darkness and tyranny upon the galaxy, and finally redeems himself. This is exactly what has happened with Lucas: one fantastically talented young director creates a huge living mythology almost by accidents, and turns it into two and a half good films. But he falls to the Schmaltz Side along the way (Ewoks—the real sign of a fall...), and is unable to save his own little galaxy from being governed by the forces of cuteness. Everyone from episodes I and II looked nice—even Darth Maul. Even Jar Jar. But now, finally, George has saved the galaxy and redeemed himself by casting Dark Emperor Schmaltz into a deep, deep pit. With Sith Lucas brings it all back home, back to the beginning. And need I remind you that the beginning of Star Wars is nothing but pain and loss and torment: an orphaned boy looking for his place in the universe.
The dialogue is still apalling, but as I said it always was. We didn't sign up for carefully crafted scripts, we're here for grand 'Space Opera' in a Wagnerian mould. And we get plenty of that--the best scenes in the film are when nobody speaks and John Williams' gloriously retrospective score, embracing music from all the other films, can tell the story on its own along with with Lucas' lovingly created images. I challenge anyone not to feel a slight tremble as, near the end, the respective Leitmotifs of Luke and Leia are subtly reintroduced for their adoption scenes. This is a film at its very best when it is lost for words—it speaks in images and music; a silent movie.
But these silences are inevitably broken, and nobody breaks them better than Ian McDiarmid as Chancellor Palpatine/Darth Sidious/The Emperor. In a shock turn of events, McDiarmid reveals himself to be the best actor in any of the six films. Finally given enough screen time to develop his character for us, McDiarmid (I'd feel funny calling the Emperor 'Ian') achieves the impossible with ease: he makes the fall of Anakin and his own transformation look like a natural progression, rather than just a 'and now I'm really eeeevil' reversal'.
Hayden Christensen must also be credited—he somehow makes you hope that he won't be seduced by the Dark Side, that he'll turn away. In this respect Episode III plays out like a good tragedy: you know it has to go horribly wrong, but you still hope it doesn't.
As for the rest of the cast, well, Ewan McGregor's Kenobi has calmed down a bit and is much more mature, and even has a nice and neat Alec Guinness beard. Natalie Portman again gets bugger all to do apart from mope and cry. Jimmy Smits is underused, but it's always nice to see him (great actor). Somewhere beneath all that walking carpet every so briefly is the return of Peter Mayhew as Chewbacca (which is nice). Samuel L. Jackson does not live out his worst fears and go down like some punk. But most touching are Anthony Daniels and Kenny Baker, giving their final turns as C-3PO and R2-D2—the only actors in all the films. And that's enough to make me want to start crying again...
The film is full of the usual Star Wars eye candy, perhaps even more than usual. There is barely five minutes between lightsabre duels, and those five minutes are usually filled with some kind of fighting anyway. If you just want to see stuff blowing up then you won't be dissappointed.
But for the most part the sheer spectacle of the action is outdone, for me, by the carefully constructed 'framing' and 'lighting' of the more static shots. Some of the images Lucas gives us are just beautiful—the oranges of the sunsets on Coruscant blending into the glowing reds and black of the volcanic world where Obi-Wan and Anakin fight at the very end. I would wonder if it is right for me to be complimenting the 'filming' of this film, as very little was actually 'filmed' or 'framed' in any conventional sense. But the fact that Lucas is using the technologies at the service of beauty, rather than for realism or for their own sake's, may indicate a return to his earlier film student days.
It is, as I said, all about redemption. With Revenge of the Sith Lucas would almost appear to be saying 'Sorry' for some of his past creations. But of course, to describe redemption as 'saying sorry' would be to miss the point entirely. Redemption is what happens when something is redeemed, when it is 'bought back', when it is regained and recovered. Redemption transforms everything that goes before it, just as I feel this film, Anakin's fall, will necessarily redeem the candy-floss aspects of the previous two films. But more importantly this film redeems George Lucas as a film maker. It rescues him, swinging in like the Tarzan call from a Wookiee's lips, and bringing the last thirty years full circle, returning him to the innocent joy of film making he must have felt as a young director.
The film that Revenge of the Sith reminds me of most with its perfect marriage of image and music, is strangely enough THX-1138, Lucas' original film school project. They are almost completely different--five Star Wars films stand between them for one. But in Sith something of that younger, pre-StarWars Lucas has returned, has been redeemed. He can do whatever he wants now—he can do anything. He could tell stories of knights in armour, or perhaps a WW2 film. He could make a Dogme film in black and white. He could make a biopic of Francis Ford Coppola. Or documentaries. Or huge animated features. But after this film, I would be quite happy for him to keep telling me his stories from a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.... But I'd also look forward to seeing something radically new.
Redemption: it's about getting back something you've lost. This film will redeem the very first time you ever saw Star Wars. If that doesn't make you want to see it then nothing will.
NB: Fran White - if you still haven't seen all of the Star Wars films then you should be very ashamed of yourself! Stop reading this literature junk and get hold of some real culture! ;-)
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