George Lucas got the better of me last weekend. I saw his cursed movie. (But I didn't pay for it.)
Grudgingly, I will acknowledge that I was entertained. Which makes it all the more a shame. Rather than just being a kind of fun movie, it could have been a very good one -- if the first two hadn't reeked, and if Hayden Christensen wasn't such a terrible, terrible actor. (The little lady noted that his portrayal of "evil" seems to be confined to looking over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow. Oooohhh, hide the women and children!)
Binker speculates that Lucas had enough material for two movies, not three, but felt he had to stretch it out to match the first -- er, second -- three. Hence we got Jar Jar Binks, and speechifying, and silly stuff about minichlorine or something. I buy that.
What I look forward to is the remakes, in twenty years or so, of all six movies. That is, of course, if the rights can be pried from Lucas' cold, dead hands. This might merit an act of Congress.
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