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Whatever Lucas was
drinking, I'm sure it wasn't just
Metachlorianated Water.
The
Best 45 Minute Movies Ever Made:
Star Wars Episode 1 : The Phantom
Menace
By
Andy Vetromile
Like any
dutiful geek, I’ve got my favorites, and
when it comes to comic books it’s
The Invincible Iron Man
that will always hold the warmest spot in my
heart. There was something about Shell-head
that just struck the right chords for me.
Perhaps it was the fact that, underneath
that metallic skin, he could be anybody. He
wasn’t bitten by irradiated animals or
dunked in goo or the fulfillment of a
prophecy, just a dude smart enough to build
hisself some sweet gear. He had repulsor
beams at his fingertips (literally,
depending on the model – how cool is a model
for every occasion?). All heroes thrust
their chests out, but when IM did it, his
unibeam cut through bank vaults. He could
fly. He had the time and date on the inside
of his mask. He could electrocute you…
…ah. Here’s a
point. I’ll hop on.
I don’t want to
spoil it for you, those of you gearing up
for the movie version when it comes out in
two thousand and >cough-cough<, but Tony
Stark, the genius who built and wears the
armor, did it because a piece of shrapnel
was slowly working its way toward his heart.
The chestplate was a sort of portable iron
lung, which meant he had to keep it powered
up to stay alive. I’m not so blind that I
cannot see and accept the cruel (you’ll
pardon the expression) irony of the
situation. Like Ultra-Man ("Should the light
in his chest go out, he will never rise
again") and comparable cool personages in
the business, this plot device was played
for tension. Run out of power, and you run
out of superpowers…and heart beats.
What kind of
engineering is that? Sure, it’s selfless of
him to fight the good fight, but for
heaven’s sake he bench-presses train cars;
flies through space and plunges through
oceans; bends I-beams. Yet at least once
every issue, Stark’s pathetic form came home
from fighting the Mandarin or the Crimson
Dynamo, flew erratically into his private
offices, and crawled like a drunken hobo
across the plush carpeting to reach a damn
electrical socket. Not some sort of
superscience transformer, mind you, with
Tesla coils and bells and whistles. No, the
same kind of thing you plug your Mr. Coffee
into. Obviously privacy benefits one’s
secret identity, but in a pinch you could
just stop off in an abandoned junk yard
(maybe Stark didn’t want to get nailed for
theft of services…ah, the price of
conscience).
All this crap fit
into the suit because it was transistorized
(any technological advancement is a good
excuse for a new hero, right? So where’s
Intestinal Camera Man?). But even after
tossing around power enough to send Marty
McFly through time, Iron Man’s survival came
down to house current. Count yourself lucky,
my friend; I can’t run my razor and a hair
dryer at the same time without blowing a
fuse. Why not build a slightly larger
capacitor, guy? You seem pretty "vincible"
to me. But I respect your willingness to put
others ahead of yourself.
Imagine my relief
when Iron Man passed the 100-issues mark,
and the character changed. Stark, first the
victim of shrapnel and then an artificial
heart, found his body accepting the new
organ – and he started truly unloading on
the bad guys. He was once again the
Invincible
Iron Man, and he found ever more creative
ways to use his equipment to stomp villains.
In a fight, he wasn’t being slapped silly by
an Asian man with peculiar taste in jewelry
as the needle dropped toward "empty," he was
bringin’ it.
And so we come to
Jedi.
We waited, what,
16 years for the newest Star Wars
flick? Apparently it took that long for
technology to catch up to George, to bring
his vision to life as he wanted (and indeed,
he’s still not 100% okay with it). That's
fine, mind you, he can do wonders with his
CGI toys, and being true to his vision – I
wouldn’t stand in the way of that for all
the merchandising rights. I have a vision,
too. Admittedly mine is limited to
pesto-parmesan ham sandwiches and widespread
acceptance of my fashion sense, but they’re
my ambitions, right or wrong.
Alas, creating
practically everything in the movie with
special effects turned out to be annoying
and distracting. It would be nice to listen
to the conversations between Obi-Wan and
Qui-Gon Jinn, but I’m too busy staring at
the glorious landscapes Lucas allows to
dominate every scene. The ships floating
past in the background could crash
into our
heroes and it could not divert my attention
more. Characters, story (there was one,
yes?), dialogue…everything here takes a
backseat to George’s digitally rendered
wonderland. What does Naboo export that’s so
all-fired important the Trade Federation
blockades them? Pretty, scenic pictures for
the galaxy’s burgeoning jigsaw puzzle
concession? Just E-mail them as
attachments…oh, wait. They jammed
communications…it all becomes clear now.
Maybe they mentioned it and I missed it
because a B-wing or L-wing or tomato-wing
was gliding in for a landing.
But this blockade
does rate hot Jedi action (wokka-chicka-wok-chowww).
The council sends Obi-Wan (Ewan McGregor,
whose name is really fun to say when you
roll the Rs with an angry Scottish brogue)
and Qui-Gon Jinn (the always underutilized
Liam Neeson, and how impressed was I to find
out I got his character’s name right?) to
"talk" to the feds. One cannot help but
think sending Jedi for this task is a lot
like putting Harry Callahan on traffic
patrol in Compton: Yes, it’s his job, but
really it’s a tacit admission that you think
things are about to go south on you in a big
way and someone’s fixing to lose a lot of
ass. You can send Arnie the Terminator to
"guard" John Connor, but he still sees
blowing up a city block as part of the job
description.
What, honestly,
are the requirements for becoming a Jedi?
They warn Luke not to leave to save his
friends from Vader in Episode V because he’s
"not ready," but when he returns in Episode
VI, they tell him his training is complete
if all he does is go face Vader. Th’ hell?
Instead of waving his hand in front of
Yoda’s face ("You will make up your damn
mind"), Luke goes back for another beating,
and I just know his insurance can’t cover an
endless supply of artificial hands. They
waffle three or four times about that Lloyd
kid in Episode I (would that Lucas did the
same), and finally give him the green light
when Obi-Wan is able to sneak the brat in
under some sort of grandfathered Jedi mentor
clause.
But oh, when the
Jedi fight…well, they aren’t CGI. Okay, I
admit, I don’t know that that’s strictly
true. I’m sure some of it is fancy effects,
but watching Ray Park do flips and spins in
midair, you know there’s a reason the man is
in the film. We got 20 years of Jedi Lite,
but now they’ve come into their own and the
invincible is back. We’re seeing the knights
in their heyday. When the job’s really tough
they send two
guys. They close the blast doors and
the lightsaber keeps melting the door.
Oh, mama.
Perhaps Lucas is
too close to the action to realize what
poetry he has in his own movie, but with
Park moving like a ballerina as he beats the
stew out of Neeson and McGregor, it’s high
time someone told him the personal message
of the Star Wars saga has always outweighed
the flash and sizzle. We want to see what
happens to the characters. Their pain is our
pain, their joy is our joy, your script is
our crap. I can’t identify with a probe or a
hovering cargo craft. Just like Iron Man, I
identify with the man inside – and when he’s
up, I’m up, and I remember where the
invincible comes from.
Say, you don’t
think they’re going to use CGI in the Iron
Man flick, do you?
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Review: Phantom Menace (c) 2006 - Andy Vetromile |
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