Revenge of the Turds
OK, so the new Star Wars movie? It totally BLEW!
When I wasn't daydreaming about a cot in the movie theater to sprawl my tired old bones on, I was nodding off or withholding laughter so I wouldn't be accused of crushing the dreams of the younglings in the audience much the same way as George Lucas has nearly wiped my memory of the good feelings and darn-near reverence I had (still have? Is it still there?) of the original trilogy.
Please--I shouldn't have to detail the horrible dialog ("Hold me like you did on Naboo"--if I spelled it wrong, I don't care--and Yoda's sentence restructuring, constant and grating it was); the overuse of special effects--especially the 427 scenes of the space city with the multilevel highways; the horrible acting (do I have to rag on Natalie Portman again? Yes! And her little costars, too!); the huge, wide, machete-ravaged swathes of plot; the sheer tonnage of disbelief to hold suspended whilst you ponder how a woman could bring two babies to term in what seemed no more than a few weeks, and apparently with no prenatal care despite the enormous medical advances that could bring a legless and horribly burned Vader to a Simpsons-esque "NNNOOOOOOOooooooooo!" in a few hours; OR the sheer stupidity of the notion that, because he had a "high ground" of about 3 feet, Old Ben Kenobi was able to sever the limbs of possibly the greatest fighter in the galaxy, and one who can jump 30 feet straight up into the air like a friggin deer; OR the fact that Obi-Wan not only hid Luke on Vader's home planet, but managed to fool the Dark Lord with the brilliant alias of "Ben Kenobi" . . . .
If only Peter J had directed these films. It might have been different. It might have been the way it was before the money, and the video games, and Jar Jar Binks, and the new "actors"--the way it was when I was a kid. Search your feelings . . . let go of the past you must.
When I wasn't daydreaming about a cot in the movie theater to sprawl my tired old bones on, I was nodding off or withholding laughter so I wouldn't be accused of crushing the dreams of the younglings in the audience much the same way as George Lucas has nearly wiped my memory of the good feelings and darn-near reverence I had (still have? Is it still there?) of the original trilogy.
Please--I shouldn't have to detail the horrible dialog ("Hold me like you did on Naboo"--if I spelled it wrong, I don't care--and Yoda's sentence restructuring, constant and grating it was); the overuse of special effects--especially the 427 scenes of the space city with the multilevel highways; the horrible acting (do I have to rag on Natalie Portman again? Yes! And her little costars, too!); the huge, wide, machete-ravaged swathes of plot; the sheer tonnage of disbelief to hold suspended whilst you ponder how a woman could bring two babies to term in what seemed no more than a few weeks, and apparently with no prenatal care despite the enormous medical advances that could bring a legless and horribly burned Vader to a Simpsons-esque "NNNOOOOOOOooooooooo!" in a few hours; OR the sheer stupidity of the notion that, because he had a "high ground" of about 3 feet, Old Ben Kenobi was able to sever the limbs of possibly the greatest fighter in the galaxy, and one who can jump 30 feet straight up into the air like a friggin deer; OR the fact that Obi-Wan not only hid Luke on Vader's home planet, but managed to fool the Dark Lord with the brilliant alias of "Ben Kenobi" . . . .
If only Peter J had directed these films. It might have been different. It might have been the way it was before the money, and the video games, and Jar Jar Binks, and the new "actors"--the way it was when I was a kid. Search your feelings . . . let go of the past you must.
posted by lulu at 8:59 AM
3 comments
3 Comments:
I think that Dr. A said it best about these movies: if Lucas had started out doing them in order (ie. 1-6), he would have never been able to make 4-6. Or 3 for that matter. 2? Well, that's pushing it.
While I am glad that I saw episode III to finish it all off, this new trilogy was a joke. Spec and I are unable to resolve whether or not the acting and dialogue were worse in this one or in ep II (I say this one, but they were both oh so very bad). The whole "love story" seems like it was written by some prepubescent dork writing shitty poetry to his middle school girlfriend/soul mate.
Yes, after going back and rewatching the first 3 (eps 4-6), I realize that they do not live up to my memories of them. They have really bad dialogue and suspect acting. But they were campy fun. And I actually gave a damn about the characters because they were at least somewhat developed.
Now, Star Wars has become a bad video game version of itself. And like any bad video game, it may be somewhat fun to look at, but no fun to play.
I think that I might even have a few of those shitty poems tucked somewhere in the basement of my parents house. Oh tormented youth! I will not let what happened to my mother happen to you.
Thanks Lulu for allowing me to snicker in your ear and make rude comments during the film. It helped a great deal. I think that we should all gather together when it comes out on DVD and mock it loudly from the comfort of a living room couch. MST3K meet SWE3.
Yeah, you captured many of the thoughts that I have had as well--especially the can't out jumpt the wielder of the high ground crap. I mean, didn't Anakin learn anything from the debacle of Little Round Top at Gettysburg? Stupid underperforming midichlorians!
I will rant on other items in my own review, coming later . . . and I won't feel bad about echoing your thoughts either. Bad movies need hate-reinforcement.
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