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Check this out

I know its a big read, but take the time to read it. It's quite infuriating.



SPACE CASE
by ANTHONY LANE
The New Yorker
“Star Wars: Episode III.”
Issue of 2005-05-23
Posted 2005-05-16

Sith. What kind of a word is that? Sith. It sounds to me like the noise that emerges when you block one nostril and blow through the other, but to George Lucas it is a name that trumpets evil. What is proved beyond question by “Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith,” the latest—and, you will be shattered to hear, the last—installment of his sci-fi bonanza, is that Lucas, though his eye may be greedy for sensation, has an ear of purest cloth. All those who concoct imagined worlds must populate and name them, and the resonance of those names is a fairly accurate guide to the mettle of the imagination in question. Tolkien, earthed in Old English, had a head start that led him straight to the flinty perfection of Mordor and Orc. Here, by contrast, are some Lucas inventions: Palpatine. Sidious. Mace Windu. (Isn’t that something you spray on colicky babies?) Bail Organa. And Sith.

Lucas was not always a rootless soul. He made “American Graffiti,” which yielded with affection to the gravitational pull of the small town. Since then, he has swung out of orbit, into deep nonsense, and the new film is the apotheosis of that drift. One stab of humor and the whole conceit would pop, but I have a grim feeling that Lucas wishes us to honor the remorseless non-comedy of his galactic conflict, so here goes. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his star pupil, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), are, with the other Jedi knights, defending the Republic against the encroachments of the Sith and their allies—millions of dumb droids, led by Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) and his henchman, General Grievous, who is best described as a slaying mantis. Meanwhile, the Chancellor of the Republic, Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), is engaged in a sly bout of Realpolitik, suspected by nobody except Anakin, Obi-Wan, and every single person watching the movie. Anakin, too, is a divided figure, wrenched between his Jedi devotion to selfless duty and a lurking hunch that, if he bides his time and trashes his best friends, he may eventually get to wear a funky black mask and start breathing like a horse.

This film is the tale of his temptation. We already know the outcome—Anakin will indeed drop the killer-monk Jedi look and become Darth Vader, the hockey goalkeeper from hell—because it forms the substance of the original “Star Wars.” One of the things that make Episode III so dismal is the time and effort expended on Anakin’s conversion. Early in the story, he enjoys a sprightly light-sabre duel with Count Dooku, which ends with the removal of the Count’s hands. (The stumps glow, like logs on a fire; there is nothing here that reeks of human blood.) Anakin prepares to scissor off the head, while the mutilated Dooku kneels for mercy. A nice setup, with Palpatine egging our hero on from the background. The trouble is that Anakin’s choice of action now will be decisive, and the remaining two hours of the film—scene after scene in which Hayden Christensen has to glower and glare, blazing his conundrum to the skies—will add nothing to the result. “Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be,” he says. This is especially worrying for his wife, Padmé (Natalie Portman), who is great with child. Correction: with children.

What can you say about a civilization where people zip from one solar system to the next as if they were changing their socks but where a woman fails to register for an ultrasound, and thus to realize that she is carrying twins until she is about to give birth? Mind you, how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes. After all, the Lucasian universe is drained of all reference to bodily functions. Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue. Smoking and cursing are out of bounds, as is drunkenness, although personally I wouldn’t go near the place without a hip flask. Did Lucas learn nothing from “Alien” and “Blade Runner”—from the suggestion that other times and places might be no less rusted and septic than ours, and that the creation of a disinfected galaxy, where even the storm troopers wear bright-white outfits, looks not so much fantastical as dated? What Lucas has devised, over six movies, is a terrible puritan dream: a morality tale in which both sides are bent on moral cleansing, and where their differences can be assuaged only by a triumphant circus of violence. Judging from the whoops and crowings that greeted the opening credits, this is the only dream we are good for. We get the films we deserve.

The general opinion of “Revenge of the Sith” seems to be that it marks a distinct improvement on the last two episodes, “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones.” True, but only in the same way that dying from natural causes is preferable to crucifixion. So much here is guaranteed to cause either offense or pain, starting with the nineteen-twenties leather football helmet that Natalie Portman suddenly dons for no reason, and rising to the continual horror of Ewan McGregor’s accent. “Another happy landing”—or, to be precise, “anothah heppy lending”—he remarks, as Anakin parks the front half of a burning starcruiser on a convenient airstrip. The young Obi-Wan Kenobi is not, I hasten to add, the most nauseating figure onscreen; nor is R2-D2 or even C-3PO, although I still fail to understand why I should have been expected to waste twenty-five years of my life following the progress of a beeping trash can and a gay, gold-plated Jeeves.

No, the one who gets me is Yoda. May I take the opportunity to enter a brief plea in favor of his extermination? Any educated moviegoer would know what to do, having watched that helpful sequence in “Gremlins” when a small, sage-colored beastie is fed into an electric blender. A fittingly frantic end, I feel, for the faux-pensive stillness on which the Yoda legend has hung. At one point in the new film, he assumes the role of cosmic shrink—squatting opposite Anakin in a noirish room, where the light bleeds sideways through slatted blinds. Anakin keeps having problems with his dark side, in the way that you or I might suffer from tennis elbow, but Yoda, whose reptilian smugness we have been encouraged to mistake for wisdom, has the answer. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose,” he says. Hold on, Kermit, run that past me one more time. If you ever got laid (admittedly a long shot, unless we can dig you up some undiscerning alien hottie with a name like Jar Jar Gabor), and spawned a brood of Yodettes, are you saying that you’d leave them behind at the first sniff of danger? Also, while we’re here, what’s with the screwy syntax? Deepest mind in the galaxy, apparently, and you still express yourself like a day-tripper with a dog-eared phrase book. “I hope right you are.” Break me a ****ing give.

The prize for the least speakable burst of dialogue has, over half a dozen helpings of “Star Wars,” grown into a fiercely contested tradition, but for once the winning entry is clear, shared between Anakin and Padmé for their exchange of endearments at home:

“You’re so beautiful.”
“That’s only because I’m so in love.”
“No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.”

For a moment, it looks as if they might bat this one back and forth forever, like a baseline rally on a clay court. And if you think the script is on the tacky side, get an eyeful of the décor. All of the interiors in Lucasworld are anthems to clean living, with molded furniture, the tranquillity of a morgue, and none of the clutter and quirkiness that signify the process known as existence. Illumination is provided not by daylight but by a dispiriting plastic sheen, as if Lucas were coating all private affairs—those tricky little threats to his near-fascistic rage for order—in a protective glaze. Only outside does he relax, and what he relaxes into is apocalypse. “Revenge of the Sith” is a zoo of rampant storyboards. Why show a pond when C.G.I. can deliver a lake that gleams to the far horizon? Why set a paltry house on fire when you can stage your final showdown on an entire planet that streams with ruddy, gulping lava? Whether the director is aware of John Martin, the Victorian painter who specialized in the cataclysmic, I cannot say, but he has certainly inherited that grand perversity, mobilized it in every frame of the film, and thus produced what I take to be unique: an art of flawless and irredeemable vulgarity. All movies bear a tint of it, in varying degrees, but it takes a vulgarian genius such as Lucas to create a landscape in which actions can carry vast importance but no discernible meaning, in which style is strangled at birth by design, and in which the intimate and the ironic, not the Sith, are the principal foes to be suppressed. It is a vision at once gargantuan and murderously limited, and the profits that await it are unfit for contemplation. I keep thinking of the rueful Obi-Wan Kenobi, as he surveys the holographic evidence of Anakin’s betrayal. “I can’t watch anymore,” he says. Wise words, Obi-Wan, and I shall carry them in my heart.

Hope this doesn't offend anybody, (yeah right), but this guy should go suck a hairy ****.
Don't worry JP, I got your back on this one....

Send all angry emails to: themail@newyorker.com

Well what an idiot. Seriously...........

Yeah this guy sucks big time.

some people are so ignorant they refuse to delve any deeper than what they see on a screen. if this guy had any sense of intelligence, he'd maybe do a little research before throwing junk out of his mouth

Sending email now....
I'm gonna' be in the New Yorker!

lol, HE USES THEM THERE BIG WORDS,, CANT UNDERSTAND THEM NEW FANGELED SAYINS, lol

the guy obviously has a problem with star wars...

and as for the absense of blood? cauterising you fool...

Yeah, whats up with his "Sith" rant at the beginning? Seriously.

I honestly dont think Ive ever seen anyone want Yoda killed off before. Thats damn odd. And his comment about 3P0 was way harsh towards Daniels.

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Check this out

I know its a big read, but take the time to read it. It's quite infuriating.



SPACE CASE
by ANTHONY LANE
The New Yorker
“Star Wars: Episode III.”
Issue of 2005-05-23
Posted 2005-05-16



What can you say about a civilization where people zip from one solar system to the next as if they were changing their socks but where a woman fails to register for an ultrasound, and thus to realize that she is carrying twins until she is about to give birth? Mind you, how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes. After all, the Lucasian universe is drained of all reference to bodily functions. Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue. Smoking and cursing are out of bounds, as is drunkenness, although personally I wouldn’t go near the place without a hip flask. Did Lucas learn nothing from “Alien” and “Blade Runner”—from the suggestion that other times and places might be no less rusted and septic than ours, and that the creation of a disinfected galaxy, where even the storm troopers wear bright-white outfits, looks not so much fantastical as dated? What Lucas has devised, over six movies, is a terrible puritan dream: a morality tale in which both sides are bent on moral cleansing, and where their differences can be assuaged only by a triumphant circus of violence. Judging from the whoops and crowings that greeted the opening credits, this is the only dream we are good for. We get the films we deserve.



this guy has never seen another sw film before

he's obviously a star trek fan.

SOMEONE... MUST... DIE........ mad2

Originally posted by mysterio69
he's obviously a star trek fan.

hey...

a good jolt of force lightning to that guys n**s should do the trick.

This is the funiest thing i have heard in a long time **** the new york times, who gives a shit what they think. Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith will be the best Star Wars movie ever im just speaking my opinion thats all....

sorry, pr1983. i kid, i kid. live long and prosper.

Yeah i posted this in the reviews thread today as well. This guy should just stick to artsy movies that are set in the real world, he obviously lacks the imagination it takes to enjoy Star Wars. I dont mind hearing negative things about Star Wars as long as its an informed opinion, but this prick has clearly got a chip on his shoulder. The funny thing is most of the problems he has with the saga are born from his own ignorance, i mean ultrasounds? Come on.

Well I thought about putting it there, but something THIS offensive needed it own thread I think.

Originally posted by mysterio69
sorry, pr1983. i kid, i kid. live long and prosper.

its possible to like both you know...

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Well I thought about putting it there, but something THIS offensive needed it own thread I think.

you were right too...

angry emails??..no... am i mad Very..but like Qui Gon tells anakin when he beats up on Greedo...fighting won't change it...and i guess we ain't fighting but we should just let this idiot ramble on its not hurting me anyways

indeed, jedi priestess. but we should take it with a grain of salt. if i got mad every time someone told me "star wars blows!" i'd go nuts. to hell with 'em.

obviously this guy hasn't seen the OT... or he's a fired employee of Lucas, and still pissed at him for firing him... or something...

Wow, this guy is an official writer? I think he's been hanging around Spiderman's boss too often...

lets face it we should march him right off to a death camp right this very second!

Wayne...

Here's the email I sent:


Dear Editor,

This email is in reponse to the highly offensive piece entitled "SPACE CASE" written by Anthony Lane.
First off, I have been a Star Wars fan every since I was a young child, back in 1977. That being said, I took great offense to the article written by Mr. Lane. Personally, I am very surprised that such a highly-respected newpaper would allow it to be published.
One of Mr. Lane's early comments in the article is deeply disturbing. He seems to mock the way that Mr. Lucas and his writers named their characters and their in-universe planets and races, and seems to praise the great J.R.R. Tolkien. He rants on and on about how the name "Sith" sounds like a nasal-congestion.
Also, later on in the article, he goes into detail about how he would have liked to have seen Yoda, (one of the most loveable and great characters of the Star Wars movies), killed gruesomely. He calls Anthony Daniel's character, C-3PO, a "gay, gold-plated Jeeves".
He continues throughout the article to continually put down a movie, and indeed, an entire film-series that has thus far made over 1.5 Billion dollars at the Box Office.
He not only has offended me, but countless other Star Wars fans.
What upsets me the most is that he is putting down a children's film series as if we're back in Salem, and Star Wars has replaced the Witches burned.
All in all, if the Editors at The New Yorker were at all intelligent, they would omit this article from the paper in question. If the paper wanted to give an honest review of the movie, they could have at least done so in a non-offensive and non-heartbreaking manner. Someone should have written the article, but not from a "I hate Star Wars and Lucas point of view".

John Geddes
Ontario, Canada

hey, pr1983. kirk rules. he gets all the green chicks.

Originally posted by waynerobsonuk
lets face it we should march him right off to a death camp right this very second!

Wayne...

Do I hear any votes for Auschwitz?

Originally posted by DCLXVI
Here's the email I sent:


Dear Editor,

This email is in reponse to the highly offensive piece entitled "SPACE CASE" written by Anthony Lane.
First off, I have been a Star Wars fan every since I was a young child, back in 1977. That being said, I took great offense to the article written by Mr. Lane. Personally, I am very surprised that such a highly-respected newpaper would allow it to be published.
One of Mr. Lane's early comments in the article is deeply disturbing. He seems to mock the way that Mr. Lucas and his writers named their characters and their in-universe planets and races, and seems to praise the great J.R.R. Tolkien. He rants on and on about how the name "Sith" sounds like a nasal-congestion.
Also, later on in the article, he goes into detail about how he would have liked to have seen Yoda, (one of the most loveable and great characters of the Star Wars movies), killed gruesomely. He calls Anthony Daniel's character, C-3PO, a "gay, gold-plated Jeeves".
He continues throughout the article to continually put down a movie, and indeed, an entire film-series that has thus far made over 1.5 Billion dollars at the Box Office.
He not only has offended me, but countless other Star Wars fans.
What upsets me the most is that he is putting down a children's film series as if we're back in Salem, and Star Wars has replaced the Witches burned.
All in all, if the Editors at The New Yorker were at all intelligent, they would omit this article from the paper in question. If the paper wanted to give an honest review of the movie, they could have at least done so in a non-offensive and non-heartbreaking manner. Someone should have written the article, but not from a "I hate Star Wars and Lucas point of view".

John Geddes
Ontario, Canada

sweet letter...

Originally posted by mysterio69
hey, pr1983. kirk rules. he gets all the green chicks.

damn straight

Excellent letter DC. thumbsup

Originally posted by pr1983
sweet letter...


Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Excellent letter DC. thumbsup

Exactly....

yeah! rock on DCL!

lets just kill off yoda and just completely feck up the rest of the saga

well, at least we all know the flick is gonna kick a**...
and that the fool who wrote the article smells.

Well it's just an opinion so I don't think any action should be taken against the man (unless it is shown that he has an alterior motive or some bias which is is allowing himself to express), but I would certainly urge people to write in and disagree with the article.

Anybody that wants to, try to make sure you don't do anything that could be used to present fans in a negative light, and remember, if we want some of these things printed we have to make sure they are rational.... I doubt calling for his head would be considered as such, not that anyone has intimated or stated they would.

In any case,

I'm takin' on the system!

BTW> If anyone gets The New Yorker, tell me if my letter goes through....

painful death he must have

Wayne...

that stupid ass from the paper just complains about everything that he doesn't like about star wars in general. it's not even a real review of ROTS, imo


and nice letter

Its a magazine SC you can pick it up at a bookstore.

his crap about anakin probably comes from the overkill of vader on advertising....he probably expected to see suited vader doing his dirty work in the movie...

is he even aware ep4,5 and 6 even exist?

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Its a magazine SC you can pick it up at a bookstore.

In Canada, JP?

probably not.

death by a thousand lightsaber cuts!


Wayne...

a force choke would be more painful.

Originally posted by waynerobsonuk
death by a thousand lightsaber cuts!


Wayne...


Lightsaber overkill....

there's no such thing as lightsaber overkill.

I bet hes mad cause his girl friend loves star wars more than she loves him.

I guess not....

Ben>
That was good....

Here's the one I'm sending:

Dear Editor,

I recently came across Anthony Lane's article on the new Star Wars film entitled "Space Case" on the internet. While the word "offensive" may be a bit too far, this article has, well, pissed off the Star Wars fan community. It seems as though Mr. Lane drones on and on in the attempt of angering anybody who has ever seen a Star Wars film. There's a very distinct difference between reviewing a motion picture, be it good or bad, and just trashing it and basically making fun of devoted fans. For instance, in the article, Mr. Lane takes individual characters of the saga and bashes them to no end. He insults Ewan McGregor's accent, makes a list of "stupid" character names, refers to the character C-3PO as being a homosexual, and even makes easily explained scenarios into sounding ridiculous. (He mentions a lack of blood in the films, for instance. First of all, the wounds would be instantly cauterized due to the intense heat of the weapons being used, and second, it's a kid's movie! This isn't supposed to be Kill Bill with blood spraying out of every nick and cut! Get your facts straight!).

Like I said, there is a very big difference between reviewing a movie (which I would consider to be the equivalent of offering some helpful criticism) and acting as Mr. Anthony Lane has (the equivalent of which would be crucifying, burning, and urinating on the ashes of the films while adoring fans look on in horror). It's one thing to say, "I personally did not enjoy the film very much, but then again, I'm not a fan of the genre," (and Mr. Lane most assuredly could have said this and stayed accurate to his feelings) and deliberately insulting at least two generations worth of loyal fans.

Thank you for your time. I hope you will take this e-mail, and the many others I'm sure you're receiving, into consideration in the future.

Daniel Robin
Benicia, CA

but that would mean he has a g/f. that's giving him too much credit.

Damn you Torik, yours is better than mine....

Actually DCLXVI, I thought yours was better.

this guy has no soul, and ill bet he has pictures of Bill Shatner all over his wall

Originally posted by Torik_Shai
Actually DCLXVI, I thought yours was better.

No, your letter/email = Better.

yeah good letter

Originally posted by DCLXVI
No, your letter/email = Better.

Let's just agree that they're equally good. And in the words of Jango Fett, "They'll do their job well."

Agreed.

Thsi movie sucks, Padme's apartment is to clean. What's with the name sith?

Those are the dumbest ****ing complaints I have ever ****ing heard in my life.

"your letters are very impressive...i look forward to seeing them in action"

dude....padmes hair is curled.....obviously a plot hole, as we've never seen a hair curler in star wars....

I've enformed our TF.N counterparts....:
http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=19694098&start=19737310

The sad thing about all this is that even if you get a response from this dickhead it will be along the lines of get over it you geeks. Im sure to him its hilarious how fans devote so much time, money and energy to a sci-fi movie that he cant fathom. I pity people like him just as much as he probably pities us, the only difference is we wont be wasting 2 and a half hours of our time on May 18/19.

Originally posted by koolruningz
The sad thing about all this is that even if you get a response from this dickhead it will be along the lines of get over it you geeks. Im sure to him its hilarious how fans devote so much time, money and energy to a sci-fi movie that he cant fathom. I pity people like him just as much as he probably pities us, the only difference is we wont be wasting 2 and a half hours of our time on May 18/19.

I agree with the fact he is wanting hate mail, he wants to see how geeky the responses will be.

Be nice in your hate mail, prove him wrong!

Nice hate mail, thats a new one on me. Seriously though i dont think he is going to change his mind anytime soon and he probably wouldnt even read the hate mail sent to him. On the upside though his completely one eyed opinion is not going to sway any of us either. I guess this sort of "journalism" is what sells nowadays which is a real shame.

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Check this out

I know its a big read, but take the time to read it. It's quite infuriating.



SPACE CASE
by ANTHONY LANE
The New Yorker
“Star Wars: Episode III.”
Issue of 2005-05-23
Posted 2005-05-16

Sith. What kind of a word is that? Sith. It sounds to me like the noise that emerges when you block one nostril and blow through the other, but to George Lucas it is a name that trumpets evil. What is proved beyond question by “Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith,” the latest—and, you will be shattered to hear, the last—installment of his sci-fi bonanza, is that Lucas, though his eye may be greedy for sensation, has an ear of purest cloth. All those who concoct imagined worlds must populate and name them, and the resonance of those names is a fairly accurate guide to the mettle of the imagination in question. Tolkien, earthed in Old English, had a head start that led him straight to the flinty perfection of Mordor and Orc. Here, by contrast, are some Lucas inventions: Palpatine. Sidious. Mace Windu. (Isn’t that something you spray on colicky babies?) Bail Organa. And Sith.

Lucas was not always a rootless soul. He made “American Graffiti,” which yielded with affection to the gravitational pull of the small town. Since then, he has swung out of orbit, into deep nonsense, and the new film is the apotheosis of that drift. One stab of humor and the whole conceit would pop, but I have a grim feeling that Lucas wishes us to honor the remorseless non-comedy of his galactic conflict, so here goes. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his star pupil, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), are, with the other Jedi knights, defending the Republic against the encroachments of the Sith and their allies—millions of dumb droids, led by Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) and his henchman, General Grievous, who is best described as a slaying mantis. Meanwhile, the Chancellor of the Republic, Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), is engaged in a sly bout of Realpolitik, suspected by nobody except Anakin, Obi-Wan, and every single person watching the movie. Anakin, too, is a divided figure, wrenched between his Jedi devotion to selfless duty and a lurking hunch that, if he bides his time and trashes his best friends, he may eventually get to wear a funky black mask and start breathing like a horse.

This film is the tale of his temptation. We already know the outcome—Anakin will indeed drop the killer-monk Jedi look and become Darth Vader, the hockey goalkeeper from hell—because it forms the substance of the original “Star Wars.” One of the things that make Episode III so dismal is the time and effort expended on Anakin’s conversion. Early in the story, he enjoys a sprightly light-sabre duel with Count Dooku, which ends with the removal of the Count’s hands. (The stumps glow, like logs on a fire; there is nothing here that reeks of human blood.) Anakin prepares to scissor off the head, while the mutilated Dooku kneels for mercy. A nice setup, with Palpatine egging our hero on from the background. The trouble is that Anakin’s choice of action now will be decisive, and the remaining two hours of the film—scene after scene in which Hayden Christensen has to glower and glare, blazing his conundrum to the skies—will add nothing to the result. “Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be,” he says. This is especially worrying for his wife, Padmé (Natalie Portman), who is great with child. Correction: with children.

What can you say about a civilization where people zip from one solar system to the next as if they were changing their socks but where a woman fails to register for an ultrasound, and thus to realize that she is carrying twins until she is about to give birth? Mind you, how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes. After all, the Lucasian universe is drained of all reference to bodily functions. Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue. Smoking and cursing are out of bounds, as is drunkenness, although personally I wouldn’t go near the place without a hip flask. Did Lucas learn nothing from “Alien” and “Blade Runner”—from the suggestion that other times and places might be no less rusted and septic than ours, and that the creation of a disinfected galaxy, where even the storm troopers wear bright-white outfits, looks not so much fantastical as dated? What Lucas has devised, over six movies, is a terrible puritan dream: a morality tale in which both sides are bent on moral cleansing, and where their differences can be assuaged only by a triumphant circus of violence. Judging from the whoops and crowings that greeted the opening credits, this is the only dream we are good for. We get the films we deserve.

The general opinion of “Revenge of the Sith” seems to be that it marks a distinct improvement on the last two episodes, “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones.” True, but only in the same way that dying from natural causes is preferable to crucifixion. So much here is guaranteed to cause either offense or pain, starting with the nineteen-twenties leather football helmet that Natalie Portman suddenly dons for no reason, and rising to the continual horror of Ewan McGregor’s accent. “Another happy landing”—or, to be precise, “anothah heppy lending”—he remarks, as Anakin parks the front half of a burning starcruiser on a convenient airstrip. The young Obi-Wan Kenobi is not, I hasten to add, the most nauseating figure onscreen; nor is R2-D2 or even C-3PO, although I still fail to understand why I should have been expected to waste twenty-five years of my life following the progress of a beeping trash can and a gay, gold-plated Jeeves.

No, the one who gets me is Yoda. May I take the opportunity to enter a brief plea in favor of his extermination? Any educated moviegoer would know what to do, having watched that helpful sequence in “Gremlins” when a small, sage-colored beastie is fed into an electric blender. A fittingly frantic end, I feel, for the faux-pensive stillness on which the Yoda legend has hung. At one point in the new film, he assumes the role of cosmic shrink—squatting opposite Anakin in a noirish room, where the light bleeds sideways through slatted blinds. Anakin keeps having problems with his dark side, in the way that you or I might suffer from tennis elbow, but Yoda, whose reptilian smugness we have been encouraged to mistake for wisdom, has the answer. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose,” he says. Hold on, Kermit, run that past me one more time. If you ever got laid (admittedly a long shot, unless we can dig you up some undiscerning alien hottie with a name like Jar Jar Gabor), and spawned a brood of Yodettes, are you saying that you’d leave them behind at the first sniff of danger? Also, while we’re here, what’s with the screwy syntax? Deepest mind in the galaxy, apparently, and you still express yourself like a day-tripper with a dog-eared phrase book. “I hope right you are.” Break me a ****ing give.

The prize for the least speakable burst of dialogue has, over half a dozen helpings of “Star Wars,” grown into a fiercely contested tradition, but for once the winning entry is clear, shared between Anakin and Padmé for their exchange of endearments at home:

“You’re so beautiful.”
“That’s only because I’m so in love.”
“No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.”

For a moment, it looks as if they might bat this one back and forth forever, like a baseline rally on a clay court. And if you think the script is on the tacky side, get an eyeful of the décor. All of the interiors in Lucasworld are anthems to clean living, with molded furniture, the tranquillity of a morgue, and none of the clutter and quirkiness that signify the process known as existence. Illumination is provided not by daylight but by a dispiriting plastic sheen, as if Lucas were coating all private affairs—those tricky little threats to his near-fascistic rage for order—in a protective glaze. Only outside does he relax, and what he relaxes into is apocalypse. “Revenge of the Sith” is a zoo of rampant storyboards. Why show a pond when C.G.I. can deliver a lake that gleams to the far horizon? Why set a paltry house on fire when you can stage your final showdown on an entire planet that streams with ruddy, gulping lava? Whether the director is aware of John Martin, the Victorian painter who specialized in the cataclysmic, I cannot say, but he has certainly inherited that grand perversity, mobilized it in every frame of the film, and thus produced what I take to be unique: an art of flawless and irredeemable vulgarity. All movies bear a tint of it, in varying degrees, but it takes a vulgarian genius such as Lucas to create a landscape in which actions can carry vast importance but no discernible meaning, in which style is strangled at birth by design, and in which the intimate and the ironic, not the Sith, are the principal foes to be suppressed. It is a vision at once gargantuan and murderously limited, and the profits that await it are unfit for contemplation. I keep thinking of the rueful Obi-Wan Kenobi, as he surveys the holographic evidence of Anakin’s betrayal. “I can’t watch anymore,” he says. Wise words, Obi-Wan, and I shall carry them in my heart. ....but you gotta admit, the guy is pretty funny yeah? no?

It would probably be funny to LOTR and Matrix fans. Its not without "humour" but his ignorance overshadows all of that.

Originally posted by Fëanor
....but you gotta admit, the guy is pretty funny yeah? no?

yeah like a paper cut

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
yeah like a paper cut

Those arent funny, those hurt like hell.(damn I am a pussy)

Typical close-minded corporate american

I'm not too angry because the way I see it, we've got a lot of big Star Wars fans in high places. There has to be one that knows what this guy looks like and where he lives. boxing

Originally posted by AnonymousKnown
Typical close-minded corporate american

Hey I'm a close-minded corporate American and I love Star Wars!

it's called free speach..

who cares?? he's an idiot..

*waves hand*

"move along.."

What a dipshit. I wrote them a email back, but look where i'm from!

I couldn't help myself i just had to do it. I have read unfavorable reviews before, but this one was just a personal attack to George and SW and i can't let that pass. I made it clear to them what i thought about their review in a professional and then in a"unproffesional" way.

i'm tempted to send him an email and tell him to look up the word BIAS and see if he can wrap his head around that

I sent this just now:


Hello, I'm (my name) - a college student from Queens, NY

Please inform Anthony Lane that the underlying, unnessesary bias in his rather unprofessional review of Star Wars Episode III : Revenge of the Sith was very successfull in causing an outrage amongst devoted fans of the Star Wars film saga. It is very clear that he wrote it with the words "exposure through notoriety" in mind. In slightest chance that I may be wrong, I'd suggest recruiting a reviewer that actually understands the dynamics of a science fiction/fantasy film. Most require an their audiences to have an imagination - something Mr. Lane seems to greatly lack in this particular review.

Sincerely,
-(name)


It could've been better, but still decent enough IMO.

I don't seem to understand why some that dislike SW has to compare them to LOTR or the Matrix... I love them all, though I do believe Lucas deserves a little more credit for the first two episodes of SW.

This is so stupid, you're all mad because someone expressed his/her opinion in an extreme way, but look around on this forum what are we doing? We are doing the exact same thing, why write angry letters (now doesn't that sound scary?) the New Yorker isn't sending killermovies angry letters for us being positive about the movie? This should be closed.

Stefan the point is, he's obviously either not bothered to take the time to really watch SW or he's a serious idiot. OF all the reviews out to date, this one is by far the most ignorant there is. And the term I used "angry letter" is a common term when writing a letter to the editor of things ranging from a high school news paper clear on up to a nation publication such as this. And seing as Lance posted in here, I dont see it being closed, especially since no one in here is saying anything that remotely calls for a closing.

erm im not a SW fan but what the heck: me at school suppost to be doing GNVQ but im on here instead, hell its boring here

Well, it's only his opinion.

Nothing wrong with that.

Psychological diagnosis:
patient may suffer from outbursts of jealousy to compensate for the frustration caused by the knowledge of his mediocrity.

Just thought someone here might be interested in my email response to the "New Yorker". I felt the only way to respond was to be simply as obtuse as they are...

"I just had the pleasure of reading "Space Case" by Anthony Lane. Simply put, just as humorous as your fine publication's nationally renown cartoons. Ziggy couldn't have written it better."

I hate to sound antagonistic here but maybe you guys are taken that writer's comments to personally? A little criticism doesn't hurt. And besides why waste your time replying to the guy? Star Wars haters are never going to shut up. Why feed their hatred?

Wind, come on, did read that crap? That wasnt even worth printing. You can write a negative review without that kind of venom. This guy is a jerk plain and simple.

Indeed, I agree with your argument JP. But by replying and responding to the guy is giving him what he wants....publicity. This guy knows he was going to generate negative responses as well a little publicity. Controversy sells and this guy is seeking popularity. Give him his 15 minutes and toss him into the trash bin. He isn't worth it.

That guy is clearly an idiot his statements are all over the place, he obviously hates star wars to begin with. I don't understand some critics that if they review a movie they have no intrest in, they bash it and tear it apart, if I was a critic review a jblo love movie, I wouldn't even do that, you just have to say the movie is not your cup of tea, but for the crowd that likes that sort of movie should enjoy it. same should holds true for star wars, but this guy is too much of a retard to understand it.

Some points to consider when e-mailing the New Yorker magazine:

For those who have not read it before, it is an upscale, we here in NY are hipper than you, arts, entertainment, and the world outside of Manhattan sucks (except for the Hamptons) magazine.

That being said, when I was in college, I would read their movie reviews because sometimes the reviewer made valid points about film technique, acting, and writing.

This a-hole is seriously just a "...I couldn't be bothered seeing this crap but they pay me to, soooo...." writer. Starting with the word Sith...a word I believe that comes from the Irish or Gaelic language (look it up). Yes, GL is not Tolkien (himself a professor of old languages), but he is educated and may have taken words from all kinds of languages. I'll have to Google search some to see but I know Darth Vader is Dutch for Dark Father.

He also goes on about no one eating/ingesting (sorry pal, dinner at Shmi's house, Anakin and Padme eating in her palace, Vader and Boba Fett at the dining table) and excreting (WTF!) being a problem. How clean and unused everything looks (GL's OT was supposed to look lived in: everything looked dirty, worn, rusted and used...stormtroopers on Tatooine were dusty)? Well, the prequels are supposed to be when the Republic was clean and shiny...before all things turned to hell.

I'm sure when you live in BOHO, SOHO, or the Village (all in lower Manhattan), hang out with all of the artistes and my sh*t don't stink types, you can look down your nose at all the plebes who enjoy something as pedestrian as popular entertainment.

Just let the magazines editors know that their movie reviewers should review the movies, not give wankers a job to vent ironic so they can sound oh so very smug.

The comment about everything looking clean is bullshit and just goes to show how deluded he is. The only places that look clean and unused are the Jedi Temple, The Senate and other places were the hierarchy dwell. The rest of the planets like Tatooine, Utapau and Kashyyk look totally lived in from what I've seen.

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Check this out

I know its a big read, but take the time to read it. It's quite infuriating.



SPACE CASE
by ANTHONY LANE
The New Yorker
“Star Wars: Episode III.”
Issue of 2005-05-23
Posted 2005-05-16

Sith. What kind of a word is that? Sith. It sounds to me like the noise that emerges when you block one nostril and blow through the other, but to George Lucas it is a name that trumpets evil. What is proved beyond question by “Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith,” the latest—and, you will be shattered to hear, the last—installment of his sci-fi bonanza, is that Lucas, though his eye may be greedy for sensation, has an ear of purest cloth. All those who concoct imagined worlds must populate and name them, and the resonance of those names is a fairly accurate guide to the mettle of the imagination in question. Tolkien, earthed in Old English, had a head start that led him straight to the flinty perfection of Mordor and Orc. Here, by contrast, are some Lucas inventions: Palpatine. Sidious. Mace Windu. (Isn’t that something you spray on colicky babies?) Bail Organa. And Sith.

Lucas was not always a rootless soul. He made “American Graffiti,” which yielded with affection to the gravitational pull of the small town. Since then, he has swung out of orbit, into deep nonsense, and the new film is the apotheosis of that drift. One stab of humor and the whole conceit would pop, but I have a grim feeling that Lucas wishes us to honor the remorseless non-comedy of his galactic conflict, so here goes. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his star pupil, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), are, with the other Jedi knights, defending the Republic against the encroachments of the Sith and their allies—millions of dumb droids, led by Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) and his henchman, General Grievous, who is best described as a slaying mantis. Meanwhile, the Chancellor of the Republic, Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), is engaged in a sly bout of Realpolitik, suspected by nobody except Anakin, Obi-Wan, and every single person watching the movie. Anakin, too, is a divided figure, wrenched between his Jedi devotion to selfless duty and a lurking hunch that, if he bides his time and trashes his best friends, he may eventually get to wear a funky black mask and start breathing like a horse.

This film is the tale of his temptation. We already know the outcome—Anakin will indeed drop the killer-monk Jedi look and become Darth Vader, the hockey goalkeeper from hell—because it forms the substance of the original “Star Wars.” One of the things that make Episode III so dismal is the time and effort expended on Anakin’s conversion. Early in the story, he enjoys a sprightly light-sabre duel with Count Dooku, which ends with the removal of the Count’s hands. (The stumps glow, like logs on a fire; there is nothing here that reeks of human blood.) Anakin prepares to scissor off the head, while the mutilated Dooku kneels for mercy. A nice setup, with Palpatine egging our hero on from the background. The trouble is that Anakin’s choice of action now will be decisive, and the remaining two hours of the film—scene after scene in which Hayden Christensen has to glower and glare, blazing his conundrum to the skies—will add nothing to the result. “Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be,” he says. This is especially worrying for his wife, Padmé (Natalie Portman), who is great with child. Correction: with children.

What can you say about a civilization where people zip from one solar system to the next as if they were changing their socks but where a woman fails to register for an ultrasound, and thus to realize that she is carrying twins until she is about to give birth? Mind you, how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes. After all, the Lucasian universe is drained of all reference to bodily functions. Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue. Smoking and cursing are out of bounds, as is drunkenness, although personally I wouldn’t go near the place without a hip flask. Did Lucas learn nothing from “Alien” and “Blade Runner”—from the suggestion that other times and places might be no less rusted and septic than ours, and that the creation of a disinfected galaxy, where even the storm troopers wear bright-white outfits, looks not so much fantastical as dated? What Lucas has devised, over six movies, is a terrible puritan dream: a morality tale in which both sides are bent on moral cleansing, and where their differences can be assuaged only by a triumphant circus of violence. Judging from the whoops and crowings that greeted the opening credits, this is the only dream we are good for. We get the films we deserve.

The general opinion of “Revenge of the Sith” seems to be that it marks a distinct improvement on the last two episodes, “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones.” True, but only in the same way that dying from natural causes is preferable to crucifixion. So much here is guaranteed to cause either offense or pain, starting with the nineteen-twenties leather football helmet that Natalie Portman suddenly dons for no reason, and rising to the continual horror of Ewan McGregor’s accent. “Another happy landing”—or, to be precise, “anothah heppy lending”—he remarks, as Anakin parks the front half of a burning starcruiser on a convenient airstrip. The young Obi-Wan Kenobi is not, I hasten to add, the most nauseating figure onscreen; nor is R2-D2 or even C-3PO, although I still fail to understand why I should have been expected to waste twenty-five years of my life following the progress of a beeping trash can and a gay, gold-plated Jeeves.

Etc............


At least the mag got the plot-line and title correct ;

This magazine (The Cinema Referance) i got as a supplement with the Newspaper had the Poster of ROTS on its cover..and it was that that prompted me to buy the Newspaper.

Now i go home, open the mag to page 2 to fint the article, and its written as 'Return Of The Sith' ! I had already intended writing them an e-mail but lets get to the creme-de-la-crem ; The article on page 8.

On Page 8 Its the same mistake : Return Of The Sith ! I read through the synopsis and what the movie is about AND THEY HAD THE CHEEK TO DRAW UP THE WHOLE STORYLINE OF ATTACK OF THE CLONES !!!

I was like

So i proceeded to write them an e-mail. And i did not get a reply. So I re-write them another e-mail 2 days later and this Olga tells me that the person in charcge is abroad. The Next week no-one replies me.

My point is that they copied and pasted an article thats 3 years old just for the sake of putting it there. Besides this mag serves more as a mouthpiece for commercials as its 60% made of commercials (Yes I counted the ads compared to the Pages ! )

Until this day the ' Person In Charge ' hasnt replied my attack on their incapacity of publicity.

Are you guys seriously writing angry emails to a guy for registering his opinion on a movie? Who cares, he's just one man. You can't expect a movie like this to get all positive reviews.

actually i was writing an angry e-mail to some mag for getting it all wrong.

This guy can get pissed on for what i care ; Its his opinion that CLEARLY shows that he hasnt seen any Star Wars, or is being paid to bring it down.


My opinion of Mr. Lane is below




piss2http://www.identitytheory.com/idgraphics/lane4.jpg

Originally posted by GCG
actually i was writing an angry e-mail to some mag for getting it all wrong.

This guy can get pissed on for what i care ; Its his opinion that CLEARLY shows that he hasnt seen any Star Wars, or is being paid to bring it down.


My opinion of Mr. Lane is below




piss2http://www.identitytheory.com/idgraphics/lane4.jpg

I doubt any film critics exist that haven't seen any star wars films before. Just because he didn't like ROTS doesn't mean he hasn't seen SW films. That's a pretty silly assumption.

I agree with backfire, but it was stupid how he opened his review

"sith. duhh, what kind of word it dat.??"

but when he says:



These names were already known; he isnt saying anything new. why bring it up now ?



WHY would Padme want to have it disclosed that she is pregnant ? SHE HAS TO HIDE IT !



Yoda is a movie Icon.....does that make Lane better than me or should i say he implies that i am uneducated ?

What I find amusing is you guys coming here and stating that no one should respond to this guy. Now thats all well and good, but if you are going to take that tack, then you guys should never complain about politics or anything else. It is the exact same thing. And sending a letter to the editor, or your congressman, etc is very much an OK practice. I do however think that such a letter needs to be worded in such a manner so as not to appear like some raving fool.

good point JP

and for the record, Sith is a Gaelic word, also spelled Si and comes from the Gaelic word Sidhe...which basically means some kind of fairy creature...gotta love the Irish

so take that you pompous, i'm too sexy for this film, reviewer!chair

Originally posted by Anthony Lane

Nobody ingests or excretes.

and why does he say that nobody eats ? Surely Lucas isnt going to get Palpatine exeunting his bathroom tucking his robes saying ' Master Windu sooner than expected..... with the flushing noise in the background. There was a mild referance in TPM when Jar Jar Binks (who else ; he cant help not being clumsy!) steps on a pile of Shit.

But Lucas does have eating in star wars as sharply contrasted to being drained.

http://massassi.yavin4.com/sw_img/e1tato16.jpg

http://massassi.yavin4.com/sw_img/e2kami15.jpg

http://massassi.yavin4.com/sw_img/e2nabo10.jpg

http://massassi.yavin4.com/sw_img/e4tato32.jpg

http://massassi.yavin4.com/sw_img/e5dego7.jpg

This guys seems like he's never seen another. What an idiot!

I forgot the eating and excreting crap. Because all great movies have a guy standing at a urenal(sp, its late) or dog with his leg hiked up, hell I cant watch a movie without it.

lol loved the one with the pics....

Originally posted by Jedi Priestess
Check this out

I know its a big read, but take the time to read it. It's quite infuriating.



SPACE CASE
by ANTHONY LANE
The New Yorker
“Star Wars: Episode III.”
Issue of 2005-05-23
Posted 2005-05-16

Sith. What kind of a word is that? Sith. It sounds to me like the noise that emerges when you block one nostril and blow through the other, but to George Lucas it is a name that trumpets evil. What is proved beyond question by “Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith,” the latest—and, you will be shattered to hear, the last—installment of his sci-fi bonanza, is that Lucas, though his eye may be greedy for sensation, has an ear of purest cloth. All those who concoct imagined worlds must populate and name them, and the resonance of those names is a fairly accurate guide to the mettle of the imagination in question. Tolkien, earthed in Old English, had a head start that led him straight to the flinty perfection of Mordor and Orc. Here, by contrast, are some Lucas inventions: Palpatine. Sidious. Mace Windu. (Isn’t that something you spray on colicky babies?) Bail Organa. And Sith.

Lucas was not always a rootless soul. He made “American Graffiti,” which yielded with affection to the gravitational pull of the small town. Since then, he has swung out of orbit, into deep nonsense, and the new film is the apotheosis of that drift. One stab of humor and the whole conceit would pop, but I have a grim feeling that Lucas wishes us to honor the remorseless non-comedy of his galactic conflict, so here goes. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his star pupil, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), are, with the other Jedi knights, defending the Republic against the encroachments of the Sith and their allies—millions of dumb droids, led by Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) and his henchman, General Grievous, who is best described as a slaying mantis. Meanwhile, the Chancellor of the Republic, Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid), is engaged in a sly bout of Realpolitik, suspected by nobody except Anakin, Obi-Wan, and every single person watching the movie. Anakin, too, is a divided figure, wrenched between his Jedi devotion to selfless duty and a lurking hunch that, if he bides his time and trashes his best friends, he may eventually get to wear a funky black mask and start breathing like a horse.

This film is the tale of his temptation. We already know the outcome—Anakin will indeed drop the killer-monk Jedi look and become Darth Vader, the hockey goalkeeper from hell—because it forms the substance of the original “Star Wars.” One of the things that make Episode III so dismal is the time and effort expended on Anakin’s conversion. Early in the story, he enjoys a sprightly light-sabre duel with Count Dooku, which ends with the removal of the Count’s hands. (The stumps glow, like logs on a fire; there is nothing here that reeks of human blood.) Anakin prepares to scissor off the head, while the mutilated Dooku kneels for mercy. A nice setup, with Palpatine egging our hero on from the background. The trouble is that Anakin’s choice of action now will be decisive, and the remaining two hours of the film—scene after scene in which Hayden Christensen has to glower and glare, blazing his conundrum to the skies—will add nothing to the result. “Something’s happening. I’m not the Jedi I should be,” he says. This is especially worrying for his wife, Padmé (Natalie Portman), who is great with child. Correction: with children.

What can you say about a civilization where people zip from one solar system to the next as if they were changing their socks but where a woman fails to register for an ultrasound, and thus to realize that she is carrying twins until she is about to give birth? Mind you, how Padmé got pregnant is anybody’s guess, although I’m prepared to wager that it involved Anakin nipping into a broom closet with a warm glass jar and a copy of Ewok Babes. After all, the Lucasian universe is drained of all reference to bodily functions. Nobody ingests or excretes. Language remains unblue. Smoking and cursing are out of bounds, as is drunkenness, although personally I wouldn’t go near the place without a hip flask. Did Lucas learn nothing from “Alien” and “Blade Runner”—from the suggestion that other times and places might be no less rusted and septic than ours, and that the creation of a disinfected galaxy, where even the storm troopers wear bright-white outfits, looks not so much fantastical as dated? What Lucas has devised, over six movies, is a terrible puritan dream: a morality tale in which both sides are bent on moral cleansing, and where their differences can be assuaged only by a triumphant circus of violence. Judging from the whoops and crowings that greeted the opening credits, this is the only dream we are good for. We get the films we deserve.

The general opinion of “Revenge of the Sith” seems to be that it marks a distinct improvement on the last two episodes, “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones.” True, but only in the same way that dying from natural causes is preferable to crucifixion. So much here is guaranteed to cause either offense or pain, starting with the nineteen-twenties leather football helmet that Natalie Portman suddenly dons for no reason, and rising to the continual horror of Ewan McGregor’s accent. “Another happy landing”—or, to be precise, “anothah heppy lending”—he remarks, as Anakin parks the front half of a burning starcruiser on a convenient airstrip. The young Obi-Wan Kenobi is not, I hasten to add, the most nauseating figure onscreen; nor is R2-D2 or even C-3PO, although I still fail to understand why I should have been expected to waste twenty-five years of my life following the progress of a beeping trash can and a gay, gold-plated Jeeves.

No, the one who gets me is Yoda. May I take the opportunity to enter a brief plea in favor of his extermination? Any educated moviegoer would know what to do, having watched that helpful sequence in “Gremlins” when a small, sage-colored beastie is fed into an electric blender. A fittingly frantic end, I feel, for the faux-pensive stillness on which the Yoda legend has hung. At one point in the new film, he assumes the role of cosmic shrink—squatting opposite Anakin in a noirish room, where the light bleeds sideways through slatted blinds. Anakin keeps having problems with his dark side, in the way that you or I might suffer from tennis elbow, but Yoda, whose reptilian smugness we have been encouraged to mistake for wisdom, has the answer. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose,” he says. Hold on, Kermit, run that past me one more time. If you ever got laid (admittedly a long shot, unless we can dig you up some undiscerning alien hottie with a name like Jar Jar Gabor), and spawned a brood of Yodettes, are you saying that you’d leave them behind at the first sniff of danger? Also, while we’re here, what’s with the screwy syntax? Deepest mind in the galaxy, apparently, and you still express yourself like a day-tripper with a dog-eared phrase book. “I hope right you are.” Break me a ****ing give.

The prize for the least speakable burst of dialogue has, over half a dozen helpings of “Star Wars,” grown into a fiercely contested tradition, but for once the winning entry is clear, shared between Anakin and Padmé for their exchange of endearments at home:

“You’re so beautiful.”
“That’s only because I’m so in love.”
“No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.”

For a moment, it looks as if they might bat this one back and forth forever, like a baseline rally on a clay court. And if you think the script is on the tacky side, get an eyeful of the décor. All of the interiors in Lucasworld are anthems to clean living, with molded furniture, the tranquillity of a morgue, and none of the clutter and quirkiness that signify the process known as existence. Illumination is provided not by daylight but by a dispiriting plastic sheen, as if Lucas were coating all private affairs—those tricky little threats to his near-fascistic rage for order—in a protective glaze. Only outside does he relax, and what he relaxes into is apocalypse. “Revenge of the Sith” is a zoo of rampant storyboards. Why show a pond when C.G.I. can deliver a lake that gleams to the far horizon? Why set a paltry house on fire when you can stage your final showdown on an entire planet that streams with ruddy, gulping lava? Whether the director is aware of John Martin, the Victorian painter who specialized in the cataclysmic, I cannot say, but he has certainly inherited that grand perversity, mobilized it in every frame of the film, and thus produced what I take to be unique: an art of flawless and irredeemable vulgarity. All movies bear a tint of it, in varying degrees, but it takes a vulgarian genius such as Lucas to create a landscape in which actions can carry vast importance but no discernible meaning, in which style is strangled at birth by design, and in which the intimate and the ironic, not the Sith, are the principal foes to be suppressed. It is a vision at once gargantuan and murderously limited, and the profits that await it are unfit for contemplation. I keep thinking of the rueful Obi-Wan Kenobi, as he surveys the holographic evidence of Anakin’s betrayal. “I can’t watch anymore,” he says. Wise words, Obi-Wan, and I shall carry them in my heart.

so says the magnolia fan

In a way, I understand BF's concern. We should give way to opinions and reviews. For if for every person that watched ROTS and did not like it, there could be Flame Wars brooding up.

i pointed out some parts of Mr. Lane's review that i thought were erronous. I dont want a part of my post to instigate a war when someone who disliked ROTS expresses it in a post.

This is the most ignorant critique of a Star Wars movie to date.

He criticises everything for all the wrong reasons.

I hate to admit.....but i did laugh at that article a few times. He made some funny remarks. But its true, he must be punished

Originally posted by Fëanor
....but you gotta admit, the guy is pretty funny yeah? no?

Too true.

This guy obviously is a sex deprived man with limited brain power. Here is my response to this so called "review":


As you can probably tell this is in response to Anthony Lane's review (if you can call it that) of the latest Star Wars movie entitled Space Case. I am a 16 year old and a very big fan of George Lucas' space saga and I am outraged over some of the comments made by your obviously sex-deprived reporter who no doubt has very limited brain power.
First of all, I find it offensive that he called C-3P0 a homosexual and his complaint that no one "excretes" in any of the Star Wars movies. Who the hell wants to see aliens or even humans expel waste from their body in any sort of movie? And since when does a horse's breathing sound like an asthma attack or how can he relate a multi-legged droid as a homicidal bug? And why can't Mr. Lane accept the fact that Lucas and his audience has an imagination and can accept the fact that in the future the ability to fly quickly in space from one planet to another.
My biggest complaint is his comment on Padme's, played by Natalie Portman, pregnancy. How do people usually get pregnant? In school I learned it was through sexual intercourse, not a troubled Jedi masterbating in her closet while looking at furry teddy bear porn.
I feel that this so called review is more of pent up rage from Mr. Lane for some trouble that may have occured in his past. Many Star Wars fans, myself included, feel that Mr. Lane should open his mind and maybe watch the films in order to gain a full understanding why Darth Vader is not a hockey goalkeeper from Hell or why Yoda, one of the most loved characters, should not be placed in a blender and liquified into a sick drink that I am sure Mr. Lane would not mind drinking. Maybe Mr. Lane should apologize and write another article after he has seen all the movies; though I doubt it would do any good to the damage he has already caused.

Sincerely,
C. Heerman
Benicia, Ca

I sent to the NewYorker and I told them what a Jack-ass he was!