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Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace*

I had very much looked forward to seeing this movie that I found quite disappointing. But since I take no pleasure in reporting my lack of enthusiasm for it, I will only pass along a couple of observations. In the first place, Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace seemed to me be incredibly tired; in the print I saw, even the color looked already washed out. Although a friend rightly admonished me to keep in mind that this is only the first installment in a series of films to come, my impression is that George Lucas has painted himself into a corner. Nor do I think it helps that Lucas, in spite of having overseen the production of the previous two Star Wars epics, has not actually functioned as director since the first Star Wars, back in 1977. From the very beginning, it was clear that Star Wars was not just aiming at creating the basis for a successful series of movies, but laying claim to the territory of myth. However, even with the help of Joseph Campbell, it is not very easy to manufacture a myth ex nihilo--as the example of William Blake, the last great mythmaker in the history of Western literature, proves. In fact, Lucas' real myth is one of the movies properly speaking: the myth of an unending serial, each new episode of which would be even more thrilling than the previous one. As myths go, this does not seem contemptible; as a devoted movie addict since the age of five, I even find it attractive in a certain crazy way. But unfortunately, a full-length motion picture is not a twenty minute cliffhanger whose scenario could be cooked up out of formulas. The content has to count for something and Lucas' inspiration is beginning to wear thin, nowhere more evidently than in the JarJar Binks character. When I first read about the accusations of racism directed against the character, I wrote them off as another fata morgana out of the desert of political correctness. After seeing the The Phantom Menace I am no longer so sure; at the very best, Jar Jar is a pretty dubious creation, like something left over from a really inferior Disney animated feature--and best left to Walt's heirs, if he belongs anywhere on the screen.

George Lucas commenced his career with the highly original, if oppressive science fiction picture THX 1138, an amputated echo of which continues to live on in the name of the THX sound system. The movie, produced by Francis Coppola's Zoetrope company but actually bankrolled by Warner's, proved to be a fiasco and there were apparently bad feelings on the part of everyone involved in the project. When Lucas finally returned to directing some years later, it was with the huge hit American Grafitti and he went on from there to Star Wars--where he has profitably remained ever since. But it is ironic that such an obviously talented director should end up as much the prisoner of his high-tech invention as the inhabitants of THX 1138 were of their subterranean dystopia. I would really like to see what Lucas could do with something as far removed from Star Wars as possible. Not that I think his talents lie in the direction of productions like THX 1138. To the contrary, Lucas like his peer Steven Spielberg is more than anything else an incredibly talented creator of popular entertainment, and like Spielberg, Lucas is a good deal more than an engineer amusing himself with fancy special effects. Moreover, the grosses for The Phantom Menace indicate how much of an audience still exists for entertainment that is not a blatant insult to everyone's intelligence, and I would be the last one to shed crocodile tears over those figures. Successful popular entertainment has not only always been the great strength of the American cinema but a main financial prop of the industry. Only a snob who knew nothing about motion pictures would think that an overweening surplus of bad films pay for a select number of good ones, but the great popular hits--and these include important movies directed by the likes of John Ford, Howard Hawks, George Cukor, and William Wyler--certainly made possible more adventurous and demanding works by bringing revenue into the studio till. Would Paramount ever have given Josef Von Sternberg so much leeway in the films he made in the early 1930's, if the studio hadn't been making a ton of bucks from pictures featuring Jeanette McDonald and Maurice Chevalier or the Marx Brothers? Would RKO have given Orson Welles carte blanche if it hadn't made the incredibly profitable series of Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musicals, not to mention a host of better forgotten B-movies? The day productions like The Phantom Menace vanish from movie houses, in a time of increasingly marginal profits from domestic theatrical distribution and exhibition, the choice will not be between The Phantom Menace and Eyes Wide Shut or Bringing Out the Dead, but between Armageddon and something even worse.