In this episode we learn that Darth Vadar is nothing but a Tool - in every sense of the word, and not the brightest tool in the shed, either.
Let's get this out of the way right off the bat: the new Star Wars film sucks.
It's a horrible thing to have to admit that there seemed to be more vitality in episode 1 of the new series, even with Jar Jar Binks, than this explainer of all things that need to be explained. But most especially what disappoints is to learn that Darth Vadar is no evil genius, he's just, as Bugs Bunny might say, a gulli-bull. How stupid is Anakin? Can fix any technology going but is a total sucker for any emotionally unsubtle line any sith lord throws at him?
There's one born (or put together in pieces) every minute, it seems. But that is surely not what we expected the story of the evolution of Darth Vadar to be? A petulant teen ager? What do those Jedis teach their students if not to cope with "their stuff"?
Shouldn't Darth be a tragic figure? A Hamlet, for instance, so that we think he's grand, he's great, and when he falls, we understand but feel the ache of his loss? Shouldn't Anikin Skywalker's going over to the Dark Side demonstrate some turmoil, some struggle? Instead it's "no i really shouldn't" and the next he does; the next it's oh gosh (heavy thud sitting down) what have i done? oh, well then, i guess i'll just pledge myself to your teaching.
Does anyone care if Anakin is lost to the Dark Side? It's more like, well, at least he won't be hanging around moping anymore. There's only one place where he seems to say something mildly mean as opposed to snotty, where he makes what's a rather nasty crack at padme to the effect that the only reason she's so beautiful to him is that he's so in love with her. And he laughs in this sorta nasty way. There's hope for a moment that we're actually going to see him get an edge that mixing with darkness might give.
And then it's gone. There's no tragic loss here. When Obi Wan yells in seeming regret "You were the chosen one" it's like you're kidding right?
Do we EVER see what that means - to be the chosen one? where the promise of balancing the force is lost? And what about these great powers that he's supposed to have tapped? He does nothing that any Jedi with a light saber couldn't do - supposing he wasn't first shot in the back by a bench of storm troppers, or pitted against unarmed administrators.
Where is the force in Anakin/Darth? In the first film, all we see is little ani is good with techno and flying things. He can lay his hands on robots, but his interpersonal skills are a bit problematic. Surely technological and avianotic proficiency are not the major ingredients to balance the force: an immaculate conception (the force was his daddy, eh?) for a guy who's good with his hands? oh, and speaking of hands, it was shocking the first time, but having just about everyone's hands get cut off in this film is just a bit much. Despite this, Anakin insists in his first duel of the film that his powers have "more than doubled" since the last film. What does that mean? We're not shown anything new here.
As far as we can tell, the gloomy, egocentric geek of the previous film is just more full of himself this one. What's to love? You'd like to see the Nanny brought in to do some work on Obi Wan to help him get Anakin back into line. But that's not the story we signed up for: where's the tragedy in a self-centred prat becoming even more self-centered and more powerful and nasty when he has the old-boy's network behind him? Where's the credibility of the pathos that will come later when he says to Luke "It's too late for me, Son"?
But the evolution of Darth Vadar isn't the only problem with this film.
Can Hayden Christiansen act? He tried in "shattered glass" but that was another sort of whimp and whine and insecure fest. That aside, it would be hard for great acting to save this script, it is so weak. The acting so wooden. It's awful. Padme has gone from action girl in the first and second movies to womb gal, immobile, even when giving birth to the future hope(s).
It's almost depressing how dull the fight sequences are - it's like watching a video game. Indeed, the trailers for the Revenge of the Sith game look more emotionally engaging than these blue screened renderings. One looks back to the REAL forests of Endor (VI) or the Ice Planet of (V) and the models of the walkers and there's a sense of physicality (those guys were COLD on the set) that creates some kind of bond with action. There were models of real little robots running around the floor. The climactic "use the force, Luke" flight scene of the first first (first fourth?) film has all the physicality, risk, hope and adventure of the WWII film "the dam busters" - on which its shots seem based. THis film has lost that physicality, there's no risk, no doubt, no nothing. no fun.
The coldness in this film is not that of shots from an ice planet; it's the sterility of the project. Even on a volcanic planet for the ultimate fight between baby darth and obi wan, it's cold as in sterile, as in emotionally unengaging. Even the hooky script of the original star wars (IV) was palpable compared to this garbage because there was perhaps something real happening. A good western perhaps. Two leads fighting for the girl; the interplay among the characters. heck, they even had motives. the freewheeling Han; the naive Luke, the politically aware Leah. Here when obi wan shouts in dismay to Darth "you were a brother to me" we think "huh?" Where was their brotherliness? the badinage between them has always seemed so forced.
So many people have commented on how this new series of star wars has been so bad:the only thing good about the last one was watching Yoda go nuts on "count duku" (dookoo? doo doo? really!), so problematic: racial stereotypes, poor character choices, loss of the fun. and master races: when did the force change from "flowing through everything" to either you're born with lots of force or you aren't? Such arian absolutism makes "May the force be with you" an existential irony, not a prayer of the possible. Maybe that's why these last three films are so problematic compared to the first three: the first three are hopeful; these last three seem so baldly facist.
So many were hoping that this last last film would be somehow like Star Wars's Abbey Road - the great comeback of all that was right about the original films. Alas, no.
This last star wars may tie everything up nicely from why Jedi's don't die they just fade away to why Leah and Luke don't know they're related, even to why Luke stands the way he does to look at the suns-set in IV, but jeeze, is Darth's story at all credible? Are the meicloreans or meti bleachs or whatever they are so lame as to infest someone so thick, immature and gullible? And why is there no spark between Ani and Obi? no banter no nada.
Ah well. The best thing that may possibly be said about this is that it's over. There will be no more George Lucas exegesis about life the universe in everything as an oversimplified no longer fun, structurally black and white (with brown boots) epic.
Well, it's worth it. Worth seeing, worth enjoying. The dark side in cynical stride. Lucifer getting the finger, a satanically possessed Lynda Blair clone getting punched in mush when talking trash rather than sprinkled with holy water, all by a chain-smoking guy just trying to get to heaven. Keanu Reeves has found his metier.
Few lines, terse rejoinders, skinny black ties. It's a wonderful follow up to the Matrix. The 1999 Matrix that is. Here, Reeve's character is self-possessed without being prepossessed (or in the context of the film, possessed).
Maybe it's a reach, but Reeve's black clad hero/anti-hero is not unlike Clint Eastwood's from his spaghetti westerns to his Unforgiven gritty ex-assassin. And look what's happened to Eastwood, how many oscars later? Could the same be in the future for Reeves?
Why not? the quiet Canadian has had a most excellent career, moving from the comic Bill and Ted to the intensity of My Own Private Idaho, to the genre making Matrix. And now Constantine. The successes help make one forget the uncomfortable casting of Little Bhuda, Dracula (and that awful accent) or Much Ado. He somehow inhabits the unreal in film more effectively, more believably than the real. Why is that?
Which is what reminds me of Eastwood, in all his loner guises. More presence with fewer lines. Compelling to watch. Humourous touches (touchees) around the edges (Reeve's delivery of "I know Kung Fu", for instance, in the Matrix; Eastwood's high fiving a chimp in Every Which Way but Loose).
In any event, Constantine is worth seeing. If you want to know more about the film, Andrew O'Hehir has a great review of the film in Salon.
Jazz, a gangland dance sequence, hair curlers, shower sandles.
A tailor, a baker, a coolie - with secret pasts.
A landlandy with a voice to shake the foundations of her tenament dwellings.
A need to find a "kung fu genius" to fight a kung fu master gone bad.
A hero in a hole with a stick.
Incredible kung fu wire fighting choreographer.
And it's a comedy.
See the trailer. If you can see the film, see it wtihout the subtitles.