Mission Accomplished
Star Wars Episode III, The Revenge of the Sith, did not make me want to puke into my popcorn or gouge out the eyeballs with Twizzlers. Thus, a smashing success. In fact, I think I came out less dissatisfied than actual fans of Star Wars. It's all about expectations management. And ignorance of subtle continuity snafus, apparently.
I did require a brief primer, so a few minutes before the dimming of the lights, I asked Kriston, "so what happened in the other movies." Although I watched them all, I remember little past Natalie Portman's crazy lipstick. Okay, so there's a trade federation and there are wars and there are clones, and whatever you do, do not ask your boyfriend "so what is a Sith?" because it gets his nerd guff up and that's also around the time you should stop calling General Grievous "Captain" on purpose because he doesn't find it cute anymore.
So in what could possibly count as the nerdiest 3 minutes of my life, Kriston explained to me the story of the Star Wars and while this amply prepared me for the intrigue of the Republic, it did not prepare me for what history will likely remember as the absolute worst depiction of romance in the entire cinematic history of the universe. I know ours couldn't have been the only theater in America splitting its collective popcorn-fed sides at this exchange: "You are so beautiful." "I am only beautiful because I am in love." It was a theatrical depiction of passion on par with my 6th grade production featuring yours truly as Juliet and Jason Chadderdon as Romeo (I had a crush on him and was therefore terrified to be in the same room) and through the mortal embarassment of pledging eternal love in front of my friends and my Mom to this boy, all I could think was "Oh my god can he see my training bra?"
Anakin's turn to the dark side was pretty sweet, if you can overlook the fact that the whole motivation for his transformation was "love." Uh-huh. Anakin will betray his innermost convictions for all-night cliche-fests with his weeping cardboard box of a wife. But who cares, really, if the motivation is "love" or "cheeseburgers." He gets awesome and evil-eyed and electricity will be shot from people's fingers and there will be evil laughing, and a battle scene that ends in a manner strangely similar to a Monty Python Holy Grail scene. Just a flesh wound.
So long, Star Wars. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
I did require a brief primer, so a few minutes before the dimming of the lights, I asked Kriston, "so what happened in the other movies." Although I watched them all, I remember little past Natalie Portman's crazy lipstick. Okay, so there's a trade federation and there are wars and there are clones, and whatever you do, do not ask your boyfriend "so what is a Sith?" because it gets his nerd guff up and that's also around the time you should stop calling General Grievous "Captain" on purpose because he doesn't find it cute anymore.
So in what could possibly count as the nerdiest 3 minutes of my life, Kriston explained to me the story of the Star Wars and while this amply prepared me for the intrigue of the Republic, it did not prepare me for what history will likely remember as the absolute worst depiction of romance in the entire cinematic history of the universe. I know ours couldn't have been the only theater in America splitting its collective popcorn-fed sides at this exchange: "You are so beautiful." "I am only beautiful because I am in love." It was a theatrical depiction of passion on par with my 6th grade production featuring yours truly as Juliet and Jason Chadderdon as Romeo (I had a crush on him and was therefore terrified to be in the same room) and through the mortal embarassment of pledging eternal love in front of my friends and my Mom to this boy, all I could think was "Oh my god can he see my training bra?"
Anakin's turn to the dark side was pretty sweet, if you can overlook the fact that the whole motivation for his transformation was "love." Uh-huh. Anakin will betray his innermost convictions for all-night cliche-fests with his weeping cardboard box of a wife. But who cares, really, if the motivation is "love" or "cheeseburgers." He gets awesome and evil-eyed and electricity will be shot from people's fingers and there will be evil laughing, and a battle scene that ends in a manner strangely similar to a Monty Python Holy Grail scene. Just a flesh wound.
So long, Star Wars. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.
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