

Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace
Why I love it, despite Jar Jar, and why it will be remembered

  I have a pretty vivid memory of being on the playground when I was in third
grade, either just before or just after Return of the Jedi came out. Some of
the older kids already knew the names of the characters from the movie, and
they were running around playing Return of the Jedi. Not with action figures,
but with themselves. "I'm Han Solo!" They fought over who got to be Salacious
Crum, Jabba's gremlin-like pet who I had yet to set my eyes upon. And as we ran
around the soccer field and through the geometrically arranged tires, we talked
about Star Wars movies and how there were supposed to be three others that took
place before Star Wars. "They're called 'prequels.'"
  I think we knew about them even before then, though. I remember a
neighborhood kid who prided himself on knowing these types of things when they
pertained to Star Wars. (He also liked to pee in ziploc bags and carry them
around with him, but that's irrelevant.) He had read many Star Wars novels,
which he thought were the movies yet to be made. He was fond of a book called
"Han Solo's Revenge" which he didn't seem to understand the title of. He
pointed at a piece of space debris on my sister's Empire Strikes Back t-shirt,
a part of some exploded space ship no doubt, and said, "That's a piece of Han
Solo's revenge." He thought "revenge" was the name of a machine, but he still
knew what a prequel was. 
  In recent years the anticipation grew as Lucas made it clear he was finally
making these things. I was in college when the Star Wars Special Editions came
out, and I must admit it was one of the happiest times of my life. As a
freshman living in a dorm for the first time, I had bonded with my roommates by
staying up all night talking about which Star Wars toys we had owned as
children. It seemed to be the universal connection between people our age, and
we watched the movies together in great excitement when they were re-released
on video in new THX editions. A few years later we were rescheduling our
classes and meetings so we could wait in line for the first shows of the
Special Editions. Now we had an excuse to write and think and talk about Star
Wars all day long. Being college students our favorite place to eat was Taco
Bell, which had now become Star Wars hype central. We could almost literally
eat Star Wars in addition to the sleeping and breathing and what not. 
  It is also important to note at this point that a) we traveled the city by
foot and by bus and b) Toys R Us was located directly across the street from
Taco Bell, i.e. within walking distance, and was stocked with many fine Star
Wars themed leisure products and accoutrements.
  In the school's computer center I read an Ain't It Cool News prequel rumor
about C-3PO being a computer generated mass of wires without his gold
sheathing. I thought it was a cool idea, if it was true, but it was time to
stay away from these rumors. I didn't want to know anything. But I could hold
myself off by re-living the old movies. This time around there were levels to
the movies I had never noticed before. Aspects I had never appreciated. They
were truly growing better with time, even while beginning to seem dated. 
  I have never been one of the hardcore Star Wars obsessives who knows the
names of every character who ever had an action figure, but the entire Star
Wars phenomenon has a strong connection to my heart, so the time of the Special
Editions was like a religious experience for me. And I just kept thinking,
"Man… if it's like this now, imagine what it will be like when the prequels
come out."

  I bring up these personal details because being one of the most anticipated
movies of all time means bringing along a whole lot of baggage. Whether or not
you were part of that generation who grew up talking about Star Wars prequels,
you've certainly heard more than enough about them by now. Some people will
never be able to accept a new Star Wars movie after 16 years of waiting. Others
already wanted to hate the movie to prove they're above the hype, or the geeky
guys with the plastic light sabers, or whatever. No one, no matter how
eloquent, will be able to change your mind on The Phantom Menace. It's a movie
that, even more than others, cannot be reduced to a consumer report. But most
critics (many of them in a speeder bike chase, kessel run or pod race to be the
first to hate the new Star Wars movie) have urged people to stay away, making
The Phantom Menace out to be an abomination against cinema. And this after
several summers in a row of absolutely shitty summer blockbusters from Batman
Forever to Armageddon - movies lacking in imagination, common sense and even
style.  
   Although I'm sure these critics genuinely didn't like the movie, many of the
reviews seem more like cultural grandstanding than legitimate criticism. In
probably the most venomous review I've read, Anthony Lane of the New Yorker
admits that he can't call Episode 1 the disappointment of the decade because he
"had a sneaking suspicion it would turn out this way" - implying that he wanted
to enjoy it but it just wasn't good enough. This, though, only after saying
that Star Wars never was very good anyway, that its fans were "nerds" in the
'70s and are now "dweebs," and after blaming the movie for the de-humanization
of cinema, the military over-spending of the Reagan years, and (I swear to God)
the concept of "deathless wars" in Iraq, Kosovo, etc.
  But many who are less extreme than Lane also went in wanting to hate the
movie just because they're "sick of the hype." Unlike blockbuster films of
recent summers, The Phantom Menace did not require manufactured enthusiasm. The
demand for the film was so great that some grew tired of hearing about it
before most of the actual PR hype kicked in. Technically, it's an independent
film, an uncompromising vision without studio tampering or the soulless
anti-art gauntlet of test screenings and focus groups. Still, it's a
moneymaking machine, and every business in the world wants a piece. 
  I honestly believe that the excitement would have been nearly the same with
no advertisements, so when the Taco Bell-KFC-Pizza Hut-Pepsi onslaught began,
it was more than overkill. Meanwhile, every step of the way became a news
event. Both trailers were run uncut not only on Entertainment Tonight and MTV,
but on local news shows. Reporters covered the reactions to the trailer, the
web sites, the release of the toys, the predictions of economic loss due to
employees skipping work on May 19th. On one Seattle station I saw a feature on
what the Seattle Mariners think about Star Wars. 
  But then, when critics saw the movie and tore it apart, the story changed.
"Will it live up to the hype?" the news anchors asked innocently, apparently
not remembering who had interviewed a woman who painted her car like an X-wing,
or set up live cameras at the ticket lines, or started out half of their
reports saying things like, "Well, a lot of people are waiting for the new Star
Wars movie, but we're also waiting for a bit of sunshine this weekend. Harry?"

  So with so many significant pop cultural complications, it's hard to predict
how most people will feel about The Phantom Menace. But I don't think it really
matters -- I think it's a great film. It is probably more flawed than the
original trilogy due mainly to some inept comic relief. But what is good about
it is skin-crawlingly, adrenaline-pumpingly good. The story adds new levels to
the Star Wars mythology, the action scenes are thrilling, the costumes are some
of the best ever put on film, and the visual attention to detail is
unprecedented. I loved it on the first viewing and adored it the second. And
it's great after all these years to be awaiting the second installment, not
knowing what will happen.
  The film starts out brilliantly by illustrating exactly why Jedi Knights are
so revered. For all the talk about Jedi Knights in the original trilogy, Luke's
feats are a tiny plop in a puddle compared to those of young Obi-Wan Kenobi and
his mentor Qui-Gon Jinn (played by Liam Neeson, who I have finally stopped
thinking of as Darkman). The two are sent as ambassadors to the Chancellor, to
conduct negotiations and settle a tax dispute. They hear the sound of their
transport ship being destroyed, and without hesitation whip out their light
sabers. These Jedi oughta be called ambadassadors. They run through the ship,
slaughtering battle droids effortlessly and make a clean escape. At one point
Lucas plays with the icon-status of the light sabers, having the villains
terrified by the sight of Jedi through a cloud of smoke, just a pair of glowing
light sabers. 
  The two travel to the planet under siege, Naboo, to contact their Queen
Amidala. The queen (and her clutch of clone handmaidens) is played by Natalie
Portman, who has already achieved near-legend status as one of those rare child
stars who is respected by adults. I don't think it's too early to say that
Amidala is one of my favorite Star Wars characters. She is quiet and dignified,
but speaks boldly (and in a strange accent) when needed. Unlike the politicians
in our galaxy she tries to avoid putting her people at war, and when it seems
necessary she goes out and leads it herself, planning a three point attack and
storming her occupied palace with a pair of blasters. Her exquisitely designed
royal gowns (of which there are many) rival even the otherworldly beauty of the
blue skinned diva in The Fifth Element. She has an intimidating, regal
presence, comparable to Judi Dench's Oscar winning queen in Shakespeare in
Love. You truly feel like you are in the presence of royalty. 
  Amidala is a more serious and, I think, complicated character than Princess
Leia. My description makes her sound like Wonder Woman, but we also watch her
essentially doom the galaxy for years to come by putting her faith in
Palpatine. And it's interesting to see her surprise as she discovers that
despite all of her politics, some planets still practice slavery because "The
Republic doesn't exist out here." But I am confident that like Leia (her future
daughter), she will be adored and emulated by young girls who like to see
pretty heroines (and their clones) kick ass.

  Soon, of course, the heroes meet up with 9 year old Anakin Skywalker, the boy
who will become Darth Vader. Many have criticized the film for not showing a
seed of evil in the boy, foreshadowing his dark future. I disagree - I think
it's infinitely better to get the audience rooting for the kid, not only so
they can temporarily set aside the tragedy that awaits him, but also because
Darth Vader isn't a purely evil character anyway. After all, he is ultimately
redeemed in Return of the Jedi. So it is more appropriate, I think, to treat
him as a kid who says "Yippee!" a lot than as The Bad Seed.
  Other aspects of Anakin do tie in to his future. He is a master pod racer and
is able to fly a Naboo fighter  - this matches up with the original Star Wars,
where Luke is told that his father was a great pilot before he became a Jedi.
He is also a machine-building prodigy, having built his own pod racer and even
the protocol droid C-3PO. This, I think, is a fitting childhood preoccupation
for the villain who not only lords over enormous "technological nightmares"
like the Death Star, but virtually becomes a machine himself. There is even a
hint in John Williams' Anakin theme, which mourningly intones a few notes of
the unforgettable Imperial Death March.
  Anakin's best scene is probably the one where he barely speaks - the pod
race. A pod race is a dangerous flying drag race through the deserts of
Tatooine, and Anakin is the only human who has ever done it. The scene is as
riveting and full throttle as the speeder bike chase in Return of the Jedi.
It's kind of disturbing to see this little boy zipping through deadly terrain
in a vehicle that's sputtering and losing control and rapidly falling to pieces
- all so the Tatooine slavemasters can gamble with the Hutts. Lucas adds extra
seediness to the proceedings by revealing that Anakin's owner Watto forced him
to enter in previous races even though he doesn't think he's very good.
  I don't think there's even a single child spotted in the previous Star Wars
chapters (unless you count baby Ewoks) so it's surprising how well Anakin fits
the tone. There's an awkward scene where some of the neighborhood kids
(including a kid from Greedo's race) express skepticism about the boy's pod
racer, but for the most part the kids work. There have been criticisms of Jake
Lloyd's acting as Anakin. His performance, admittedly, is not perfect, and
Lucas doesn't help with the awkward editing into the should-be heartbreaking
scene where Anakin bids farewell to his enslaved mother. Lloyd may not be Anna
Paquin, but he hits the mark more often than not, and his boyish enthusiasm is
used humorously. I especially like the scene where Amidala, knowing that her
planet's fate may depend on Anakin winning a pod race, finds out from Anakin's
friend that the boy has never even *finished* a race, let alone won one. To
Amidala's horror, naïve little Anakin smiles, puts his arm around his friend
and boasts, "Kitster's right. I will this time."
  I think these types of moments are charming. I also like when he tells C-3PO,
who he's leaving behind in the slave quarters, that he'll "try" to get his mom
not to sell him. These things remind me of the priceless moment in E.T. when
Drew Barrymore says of the extra-terrestrial, "I don't like his feet." The
acting may not be as note perfect but these moments show a similar
understanding of the way children think. I'm glad that at this age Anakin isn't
talking about being a brave warrior or fighting for justice. Instead, he brags
that he gets to go on a star ship. This playfulness makes it more dramatic
later on when he realizes his purpose in life: to return to Tatooine and free
the slaves (a perfectly mythic subplot that I look forward to in Episode 2).

  While the heroes attempt to deal with the crisis on Naboo, we see the shady
dealings of a Sith lord named Darth Sidious, who is probably Senator Palpatine
in disguise, as he greatly resembles the hooded Emperor Palpatine of later
installments. Sidious dispatches his apprentice Darth Maul to assassinate the
Jedi. Maul has already become a pop culture icon just by appearing briefly in
the first Phantom Menace trailer. His simple look of primal evil - black cloak,
red and black face, crown of horns, demonic yellow eyes - has so captured the
fascination of fans that virtually every 12:01 showing on May 19th must have
had a guy dressed as him, toting a double bladed light saber. 
  After such a build up, some were disappointed that Maul turns out to be a
mysterious and briefly sighted presence in the movie. (But come on, man, it's
your own damn fault for building a cult around a character from a movie you
hadn't seen.) Maul's fanboy appeal is comparable to that of Boba Fett, who is
actually much less significant in the Star Wars saga, and has less screen time.
I think he's perfect. 

  At some point, I will be expected to choose one of three or four famous Star
Wars catch phrases and use it to attack the new movie. I'll go ahead and go
with, "There is a disturbance in the Force, and its name is Jar Jar Binks." Jar
Jar is a computer generated creature called a Gungan, an outcast from the
underwater kingdom on Naboo. He's also the comic relief character, and the
first character in the entire Star Wars saga that I can't stand. 
  I want to make one thing clear, before I attack Jar Jar: I am pro-Ewok. I
never knew until a few years ago that Return of the Jedi, and specifically the
Ewoks, were looked upon with disdain by many Star Wars fans. The Ewoks, goes
the argument, are cuddly little bears just thrown in to be cute and to attract
kids. Having watched the movie several times since learning of this school of
thought, I still can't find any way that it makes sense. The Ewoks are savage
little bastards who try to cook our heroes for dinner, and who stone, log and
rope stormtroopers to death in the climactic battle that culminates the
humanity-over-technology theme of the trilogy. The first time you see Ewoks,
they are creepy and irritable. They look more like rabid rats than teddy bears.
They're not half as cute as the Jawas, who as far as I know have never suffered
the "cute" criticism.
  And even if the Ewoks are adorably cute to some people, isn't that sort of
cool? Cute little teddy bears who eat human flesh? It's like saying the killer
dolls in Barbarella were just thrown in to appeal to kids who like dollies.
It's just plain wrong. Up with Ewoks, I say. 
  But there is an Ewok moment that I don't think is so hot: the one in the
middle of the battle where Wicket swings a rock around and hits himself in the
face with it. It's not a terrible joke, I can live with it, but it's
cartoonishly out of place. It kind of seems like it should be accompanied by
Three Stooges sound effects. Imagine a character that has none of the
rabid-rat-menace of the Ewoks, but swings rocks into his face repeatedly.
That's Jar Jar.
  Some people have called Jar Jar a racist stereotype - a rather ludicrous
description for a character that is more reminiscent of Slimer from the
Ghostbusters cartoon and Roger Rabbit than of any specific race, ethnicity or
nationality. I don't have a problem with his Gungan pidgin ("yousa thinks you
people gonna die?") which continues the Star Wars tradition of cultural detail
amongst aliens. I do have a problem with his voice, though, which is that same
annoying squeaky voice they used for Slimer, or for Punky Brewster's cartoon
sidekick Glomer. You know - the "funny" voice that Dave Coulier used on Full
House after he tired of his Popeye and Bullwinkle impressions. I want Jar Jar
to be a character I can take seriously on occasion, but he's not, because he
speaks in a voice that says, "I'm sure as hell not funny, but you know I'm
trying to be!" 
  If he were to speak in a lower voice he wouldn't be nearly as hard to take.
But even still, his purpose in the story so far seems to be to knock things
over, stick out his tongue and step in creature manure. His character doesn't
grow or evolve. He only helps people on accident. He doesn't show another side,
and worst of all he doesn't build a strong relationship with any of the other
characters - he just follows them around, but it seems like you're supposed to
assume they like him. If he returns in future installments it's going to be
hard to redeem him. Unless little Anakin first practices his long distance
strangling technique on the zany Gungan.
  
  But The Phantom Menace survives Jar Jar, because it's working on other levels
than just the wacky guy falling down. The plot is more complicated than
previous chapters, and although many have attacked it as a "kiddie movie" due
to the Jar Jar problem, it's hard for me imagine kids knowing what the hell is
going on. Even for reasonably intelligent adults like - I'd like to think - me,
it may take multiple viewings to keep up with all of the politics. How many
kiddie movies revolve around tax disputes, trade embargoes, votes of no
confidence? If this movie is for kids I wonder if tense senate hearings will
become the next big thing in PG rated movies, replacing the John Hughes
trademark of inept burglars who get pelted in the balls by Rube Goldberg-esque
booby traps.
  It wasn't until the Special Editions that I thought about the multiple
meanings of the title "Return of the Jedi." Growing up, I assumed it referred
to Luke's return to Tatooine. But now I think it refers both to the
resurrection of the concept of the Jedi and to the return of the Jedi Anakin
Skywalker, who has been buried inside the Sith lord Darth Vader until he
re-emerges in the climax. "The Phantom Menace" has multiple meanings as well.
Most obviously, it refers to the hooded Darth Sidious, who controls the
invasion of Naboo and the attacks on the Jedi without our heroes ever knowing
of his existence. Secondly, it refers to the invasion of Naboo itself, which on
the surface appears to be about taxes but is actually a front for removing the
Chancellor and replacing him with Palpatine. 
  With Anakin's boyish optimism and Jar Jar's wacky antics, the surface of the
movie is fairly light-hearted. But the menace lies underneath, because of our
knowledge of what is to come. This is a movie where the heroes put their faith
in something we know won't pan out the way they want it to. Roger Ebert has
said that Luke Skywalker is actually the chosen one who the Jedi are looking
for in Anakin. I prefer the more ominous theory that Anakin is indeed "the
chosen one, who will bring balance to the force," but that he will bring
balance by being the evil Darth Vader. The Jedi's evil counterparts the Sith
have been extinct for a millennium, so clearly the balance is leaning toward
the good side of the scale. I think Yoda and Mace Windu can sense that Anakin
is indeed the chosen one of their faith, but they don't want to face what that
means. 
  The film asks you to care about little Anakin, and it works. It wasn't until
the day after my first viewing that some of the irony hit me. At one point,
Darth Maul speeds toward Qui-Gon and Anakin on a sort of speeder bike. Qui-Gon
yells, "Anakin, drop!", saving the life of Darth Vader, the man who will help
conquer the galaxy and who will slay Qui-Gon's apprentice, Obi-Wan. While the
movie pretends to be a happy adventure about a boy and his Jedi buddies it
inches toward heartbreaking tragedy.

  And still, it's a hell of an adventure. The genuinely thrilling climax jumps
smoothly between the Queen's siege of her own palace, a huge battle between
Gungans and battle droids, Darth Maul taking on Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in a light
saber duel, and Anakin's "accidental" attack on a space station. (I put
"accidental" in quotes because although Anakin doesn't destroy the control ship
intentionally, I suspect the Force is working through him to achieve its own
goals.)
  The light saber fight is the best in the Star Wars saga so far, containing
more nimble choreography than previous entries. Maul, played by the stuntman
Ray Park, works in a number of flips and martial arts kicks (things that were
stiffly hinted at as Jedi skills in The Empire Strikes Back) and takes on two
Jedi at once. One of my favorite moments in the film is when a series of
energy-walls separates the three combatants, so they immediately turn off their
light sabers and wait. Qui-Gon patiently meditates while Maul paces back and
forth, his eyes satanically glued to his enemy. In all of the depictions of raw
evil in Lucas' films, none has ever approached the pure hatred in this man's
eyes.

  For fans of the series, The Phantom Menace is loaded with precious touches.
We get to see the time when Jedi were plentiful, so much so that they had a
council led by Yoda and Samuel L. Jackson. We see cameos by rowdy sand people,
Wookie senators, even Jabba's girlfriend. But most of all, we get to explore
new planets and learn new details of the old ones, like the workings of the
Tatooine slave trade. I didn't like Jar Jar, as I mentioned, but another
computer-generated character, Watto, is more successful. He's a little, snouted
guy with humming bird wings (the first flying character in the Star Wars
universe?) who trades junk and makes Anakin work in his shop. He's a slimy
character who is never redeemed, but when he loses Anakin in a bet he looks
kind of sad, and you almost feel sorry for him. I often think it's this extra
dimension - like the mourning Rancor owner in Return of the Jedi - that makes
me love the Star Wars universe, and make it seem like a real place.
  There are other touches that weaken that real place feeling, though. Some of
the character designs seem a little out of place. There's a two headed
commentator at the pod races who talks just like a human sports announcer and
whose faces look kind of like characters from Antz. It damages the
slice-of-alien-life illusion that I loved so much in the cantina scene and in
Jabba's palace.

  But for the most part the illusion is there, and in far more visual detail
than ever before. Lucas has truly taken computer-generated imagery to the
logical next level, painting entire worlds with it, not just inserting a
monster here or there. Though I believe The Phantom Menace will be remembered
fondly for the same reasons as the other Star Wars movies, it will be most
notable historically as the movie that raised the stakes for digital visual
effects by about fifteen or twenty notches.
  Acclaiming the special effects in a movie usually sounds like faint praise,
and with a Star Wars movie it pretty much goes without saying. But I don't
think people are acknowledging the kind of unprecedented visual spectacle we're
dealing with here, where the vast majority of shots combine live action
elements with computer animation, matte paintings and miniature models. It's so
elaborate and non-stop that it becomes its own seamless reality. In the
original trilogy you might think okay, these are real actors on a real set, but
this next shot coming up - that's stop motion. The Phantom Menace visuals are
so elaborate that there's no room for that. There are stretches where, as far
as I know, nothing you're seeing on screen is real, but you don't think of it
as Toy Story, you think of it as a real desert with real podracers flying
through it. I'll be damned if I can figure out what's a computer image, what's
a model and what's just a pile of dirt.
  The phenomenal detail of The Fifth Element seems lazy compared to what goes
on in The Phantom Menace. I believe this will have a major effect on summer
event movies where the main gimmick is the visual effects. How can you make a
movie like Godzilla after everyone has seen this? "Hey, look at this - a
computer animated monster. Can you believe this? Pay me money." The Phantom
Menace has a sequence early on, one of the weaker ones in fact, that has three
computer-generated giant fish with headlights shining on them in the darkness
of water. All of them are far more impressive than the giant iguanaman in
Godzilla, which had nothing else to offer. In The Phantom Menace, they're a
forgettable throwaway, not the main event.
  Will this force the purveyors of big genre movies to put some more elbow
grease into their special effects? Or will it make them say, "Fuck it, I can't
deal with it, I'm doing something smaller"? I don't know. But I don't think it
can be ignored. Lots of people mourn the dominance of big budget effects movies
and prefer smaller, earthbound, character driven movies. Movies that take place
in the real world, or that leave things to the imagination. And obviously there
will always be a place for those. But Lucas is dealing in fantasy films, in
documenting worlds that don't exist and making them seem like they do. Since at
least the summer of 1990, when the T-1000 morphed into liquid metal, filmmakers
have been talking about how computer technology will narrow the gap between
what you can imagine and what you can put on screen. The Phantom Menace has
proven that theory. For some filmmakers this will be liberating, for others it
might be frightening. Because what if we can see into their imagination and
there's nothing there? What if all they can think of is a big iguanaman?

  Lucas gives us more than an iguanaman. Lots, lots, lots, lots, lots more. He
has given me a chance to see my 2 year-old nephew holding a plastic light
saber, not really knowing what it is, saying, "I'm going to rescue Grandma."
He's made me remember what it is that I felt in that drive-in so many years
ago, seeing Star Wars as a child. And at the same time he's made me realize
what the adults of the time - the ones who were turned on by Star Wars, anyway
- might have felt, and how they might have questioned the future of popular
entertainment in light of what they've just witnessed. I suspect The Phantom
Menace is the beginning of more than just the Star Wars saga. But I guess I'll
have to wait until the next episode to find out for sure.

--Bryan Frankenseuss Theiss

"I write rhymes so fresh I try to bite my own verses." --Tash