That's it: 15 hours of space adventure later, I have completed a rite of passage and watched every Star Wars movie.
In this little experiment I've learned that those actually were the droids they were looking for, that you should not kiss someone until you're definitely sure he's not your twin, and that muppets make the best mentors. I've discovered the origin of the rattail epidemic that spread to every guy in my seventh grade class and an on-screen romance even more simpering than Edward and Bella. And now, thanks to Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith, I've filled in all the gaps in between.
And that's all Episode III was good for, really: providing backstory and setting the scene for A New Hope. We had to see the executive order that decimated the Jedi Order (a montage excuse for a tour through the created planets of George Lucas). We had to see how Yoda ended up on Dagobah, Leia on Alderaan, Obi-Wan and Luke on Tatooine. We needed to learn what happened to Palpatine's face, and how Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader.
Although by the time Obi-Wan left him to die in the lava of Mustafar, Anakin was so irritating that I didn't really care what happened to him. Anakin's delusional reasoning can be interesting to watch, yes, and his massacre of the young Padawans was inhumane. But mostly, he's just a weak-willed creep. "From my point of view, the Jedi are evil"? What kind of villain gives an IMO disclaimer? From my point of view, you're boring, Anakin.
But even when Anakin was being his most insufferable self, I still got to watch a villain who owns his depravity: Palpatine. He luxuriates in emotional manipulation, and the pure sensuality of his malevolent Svengali-ing of Anakin makes the movie. He delights in playing the role of a concerned, noble leader of the Republic, and then fights the Republic's greatest defender in that very same Senatorial hall. This is true heinousness, people.
Palpatine's sinister speech in the Senate, employing a righteous narrative of restoring faith and peace and creating "a safe and secure society" as justification for wresting power, is the clear highlight of this movie. And it prompts the only decent line from Padmé: "So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause."
Otherwise, Padmé made me cringe. She goes from an ambitious, astute senator to a docile, dependent housewife in 1980s prom makeup and a bedazzled nightie, brushing out her permed hair in the moonlight for perpetuity. (Isn’t the second cardinal rule of perm maintenance that you shouldn’t brush it out?) She dies, heartbroken, because she loses the will to live? Despite her two newborn children? I take it back—Padmé and Anakin deserve each other. That artist from her legislative youth program is better off without her.
Unfortunately, Obi-Wan also solidified his role as provider of cheesy one-liners in this installment ("Oh, I've got a bad feeling about this"). However, I do appreciate his signature move of shedding his cloak—best seen when he dismounts a giant lizard, scratches his chin, drops the cloak, and jumps off a rafter beam to defeat General Grievous singlehandedly. But mostly, Obi-Wan seems to exist to be surprised, like when he confirmed the greatest betrayal of the entire saga through a medium more fitting of SVU than Star Wars: security cam footage.
Also, how does one single order—a master plan amounting to "kill all the Jedi," as far as I can tell—bring down the Order? And how are Anakin and Obi-Wan so nearly foiled by a malfunctioning elevator for the first 20 minutes of the movie? And while they futzed with the buttons, R2-D2 managed to set two droids ablaze—a demonstration of skill rewarded by Artoo getting to keep his memory, unlike my dear C-3PO. In A New Hope, C-3PO will encounter Obi-Wan and Darth Vader and Luke for the first time, just like us—mercifully ignorant of the mess of the trilogy that came before.
Lessons Learned:
• Don't be so hard on yourself, Yoda! You did a great job. And man, you’re so tiny in just your PJs!
• General Grievous' helicopter saber is terrifying. As is his respiratory problem.
• Efficient sky traffic serves as the backdrop for so many scenes—let's have a round of applause for the real heroes of the galaxy, the urban planners of Coruscant.
• At this point, the robots don't look like people in costumes, but they sound human, which is unsettling—the droid death noises, the squeals of R2-D2...
Lingering Questions:
• Who was Palpatine's mentor?
• Palpatine tells Darth Vader that in his anger, he killed Padmé, which isn't true. Does Darth Vader believe that in the first trilogy?
• Yoda tells Obi-Wan that he should learn to commune with dead Qui-Gon while on Tatooine. What?
• How does Darth Vader interact with Leia, his own daughter, so nonchalantly throughout the whole first trilogy?
It may have taken me a decade longer than you, but I'm finally, officially a Star Wars fan. From now on, I'll have to pose my lingering questions in the vast world of Star Wars Internet—at least until December, when I'll eagerly head to the theater as a fan of the original trilogy, anticipating that yellow crawl and the screen fades and the new-and-improved Death Star (probably).
So, has this experience changed me? Do I now wield a saberstaff with ease, demonstrating my prowess at galactic trivia? Well... Let’s just say that though I enjoyed Star Wars, I still pledge allegiance to my own nerd culture. (Why, yes, Berkeley High School class of 2010 did invent the "Most Likely to Attend Hogwarts" superlative just for me.)
As you may have guessed, Star Wars is just the start of my sci-fi cultural education. (I'm not talking about the extended universe. Please don't make me go there.) So, what should I watch next to catch up with the classics you know and love? Jurassic Park? Blade Runner? Back to the Future? If it wasn't written by Louisa May Alcott, I probably missed it as a kid, so point me in the right direction, commenters! And thank you, for reading along on my journey to a galaxy far, far away.
