Star Wars
Episode I: The Phantom Menace
(1999)
(SPOILERS) To paraphrase Han Solo in The Force Awakens trailer, everything
you’ve heard about the prequel trilogy is true. The surfeit of CGI and virtual
sets, the paper-thin characterisation, the lumpen dialogue. The soullessness of
it all, something even the best efforts of John Williams cannot dent. But I’m
not one to cast them out into eternal darkness, any more than I do The Hobbit(ses). They’re not what they
could be, they’re disappointments, and the first one in particularly is at
times nothing less than a chore to get through, but I don’t feel Lucas has done
anything reprehensible, just something entirely misconceived. Reprehensible
would be fiddling with the Original Trilogy to the point where it detracts from
enjoying them any more (hopefully it won’t be long before that’s remedied).
The same amount of time has passed between The Phantom Menace and The Force Awakens as between Return of the Jedi and The Phantom Menace; hopefully the
quality trend reverses this time. I didn’t see The Phantom Menace until more than a month after it opened in the
UK (which was two months after its US release; such a lag would be unheard of
now; of course, it’s nothing to the seven months it took Star Wars to hit the UK). I just wasn’t fussed; I’d heard more than
enough and seen more than enough to have low expectations. My eventual response,
even as a Star Wars fan, was correspondingly
much less vehement than the many who queued up at fever pitch and then tried to
persuade themselves it really was all
they’d been waiting for. Until reality inevitably clawed itself a permanent
place in their minds. Most memorable at the time was probably Simon Pegg’s disavowal
in Spaced Series Two (in retrospect
it was probably just as well they didn’t do a third run, as the second was
awash with weak parodies, not least of the same year’s The Matrix).
I didn’t hate it. I didn’t think much of
it, but I didn’t hate it. It was rather bland and indigestible, weighed down
with stodgy acting and dialogue, an indifferent abundance of CGI and a plot
that was either elusive or banal, depending on your desire to attempt to follow
it. And Jake Lloyd and Jar Jar; the verdict there went without saying. Like
Pegg, it was the movie no one expected in 1999 that hit the home run; The Matrix had the punch-the-air
momentum and excitement, and special effects in service of story, of the kind
everyone anticipated from Star Wars.
Of course, the prequels would be telling a tragedy in three parts, but there
was no reason they couldn’t still weave a rich, enthralling, tragic tapestry,
the way The Empire Strikes Back
wasn’t joyous but it was completely
immersive. And there was no reason it couldn’t create its own sense of the
mythic even as it unravelled many of those seeded by the Original Trilogy
(easier said than done, certainly, as pretty much every prequel ever made has proved,
but it if any series had the potential to do it well, structured as beginning
halfway through as early as 1978, it was Star
Wars).
The prequels had, have, and will have,
yards and yards and reams and reams written and YouTubed on them, so unless I
was to come out as their staunchest defender I’d likely have little new to say.
I last watched them when the Blu-rays were released, and wouldn’t have
revisited again so soon (three years) if it weren’t for The Force Awakens. I suspect I’ve now consigned myself to treating Star Wars as a complete event, such that
I won’t dip in, I’ll encounter them all, warts and all, every five years or so
(at least, until they get to Episode 16, and the 20th spin-off Bad Jawa), just as I’ll probably take in
the inferior Hobbitses before I
rewatch The Lord of the Rings.
So before launching in, I’ll cast about for
something positive to say regarding the Blu-ray release. There’s scant
tinkering that gets my approval elsewhere in the saga, but the CGI Yoda is a
definite improvement on the peculiarly crappy puppet they used originally (as
opposed to the really good puppet they used in the Original Trilogy; I’m
genuinely reluctant to defend a CGI Yoda over a physical one). That doesn’t
make up for Demented Mosquito Yoda, who we’re subjected to in the next two
movies, or that all we see of him here is the sage dullard refitted into was he,
rather than the sometimes sinister, sometimes silly, sometimes antic, but
always vital Jedi Master of The Empire
Strikes Back (that shift had taken place with Return of the Jedi, though).
The film proper. I’ll come to the Jake
and Jar Jar, and the over-reliance on virtual worlds, but those aside, the real
hamstringing factor of The Phantom Menace
is the plot. And I don’t mean that it’s about taxation and trade blockades. One
of the few aspects I rather like is the manner in which Senator Palpatine (Ian
McDiarmid) hoodwinks all and sundry, including the Jedi Council, to get exactly
what he wants. No, it’s the manner in which Lucas has structured the film
entirely without attention to flow, objective or urgency. It’s almost wilfully
perverse; knowing he has a captive audience, he opts to make them put up.
This isn’t a case where it pays to follow
the plot closely either; it’s still as much of a snooze if you do. There’s “stuff”
going on, and you’re expected to go with it because it’s Star Wars (which many did). You might level a wayward structure at The Empire Strikes Back, but everyone there
had readily identifiable goals, be they running to safety or passing a test. It’s been said that
Lucas’ plot tack, the politics and trade wars, has no place in a kids’ movie,
but that isn’t really the problem. It doesn’t help matters when he takes such
little care in setting out the salient details, but it isn’t really the
problem. The issue is that nothing he presents has any import or drama, at
least until it’s too late. Nothing grabs you by the seat of the pants. Perhaps
it’s no coincidence that his cast is replete with greying, middle-aged men,
waffling on, because that’s what the mastermind behind the saga had become.
Queen Amidala: I will not condone a course of action that
will lead us to war.
So Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) and Obi-Wan
Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) are sent to negotiate the end of the Trade Federation’s
blockade of ships around Naboo. That ought to be cool. Jedis in action, doing
Jedi stuff. And they dutifully get their lightsabers out. Mostly, though, they
just destroy a shed load of CGI droids. Which isn’t really cool. Because it’s
CGI. Things don’t go according to plan, but with no great stakes involved, so
they head down to Naboo, meet CGI character Jar Jar, visit the underwater CGI Gungan
city where they meet some more CGI characters and hear Brian Blessed’s voice. The
latter is a small consolation, but other than that, no great stakes are
involved.
Up they go to Naboo, after this irrelevant detour (but it’s needed
you see, to introduce the primitives-versus-hi-tech climax… oh wait… Return of the Jedi already went there; I
guess it made an impression on James Cameron if nothing else) and rescue Queen
Amidala (Natalie Portman). Entirely without great stakes (this is presumably
meant to be nick-of-time stuff, evoking delivering Leia from the Death Star,
but it’s more “Oh very well, I shall come along”).
As unpromising as this is, it’s as nothing
compared to the longueurs encountered on Tatooine, which they have to go to
because little Ani (Jake Lloyd) is there. Like so much here, Lucas expects us
to be fascinated because it’s young
Darth Vader, not because he does anything to make his character remotely
interesting or engaging (which includes casting someone who can act). Meaning
that, after an extended interlude there, entirely without great stakes, its off
to Coruscant and some political wrangling. Ironically, this potentially
snooze-worthy section is one bit I quite like, as there’s actually some
intrigue and considered plotting going on (maybe it’s also the Terence Stamp
factor, as the underused Chancellor Valorum; it certainly helps that McDiarmid is
enjoying the smooth flourish that comes with deploying Senator Palpatine).
Alas, it doesn’t last long, as Lucas
doesn’t listen to Cubby Broccoli’s edict that one should never go back to the
same place twice; the return to Naboo is where the great stakes finally come
in. Unfortunately, in three of the four parallel slices of action they’re
entirely bereft. From a clinical point of view, it’s interesting to observe how
the fight with Darth Maul does all the donkey work, sustaining (silly) Jar Jar as
he batters the enemy droid army (accidentally), (silly) Ani as he blows up the
Trade Federation control ship (accidentally) and (not silly but uninvolving) Padmé & co as they capture Nute Gunray (Silas Carson; it says
something about me, or The Phantom Menace,
that while I knew there was a character called Nute Gunray, I failed to add two
and two together until this viewing; it will be the same with Kit Fisto, who
sounds like an untoward sexual act rather than a Jedi Master).
Yoda: Always two there are, a master and an apprentice.
Because, since I’ve found a few good things
to say about The Phantom Menace now
(McDiarmid, Stamp, CGI Yoda, the manipulations in the corridors of power on CGI
Coruscant), my praise for the realisation of Darth Maul (martial arts guy Ray
Park) is unqualified; all strange face paint, fearsome looks and double-ended lightsaber;
the design work on the prequels is sadly poverty-stricken compared to the
Original Trilogy, but with Darth Maul they at least get their memorable Sith
Lord. Actually, I will qualify my praise for Maul. Peter Serafinowicz voicing this
Darth is a good choice, but fairly irrelevant as he has minimal screen time and
even less dialogue. There’s something to be said for less is more, as Boba Fett
proved, but the lack of Maul goes back to the wilfully perverse thing Lucas
seems to be pursuing here. You’ve got someone who boosts the story whenever
he’s on screen, so give him exactly two scenes of any note.
It would be neither here nor there if
everything else worked, of course. But it doesn’t. The taster of Maul, via the
brief dustbowl skirmish on Tatooine with Qui-Gon, certainly whets the appetite
for the finale, and the editing by Paul Martin Smith and Ben Burtt is masterful
when it comes, teasing out the fight, slaying of Qui Gon and revenge by Obi Wan
to breaking point (and wisely making it the climactic moment).
It’s probably accurate
to suggest the initially forgiving mood towards The Phantom Menace was largely down to the Maul fight, but it’s no
lesser thing for the diminishment of the surrounding tissue, a fine piece of
choreography and tension (and dismemberment); Lucas would get more creative/ destructive
with his virtual editing as the trilogy progressed, which may account for this
remaining the best fight in the three (the odd Force-using, gravity-defying
leaps aside, which become more unremarkable for being too frequently employed).
Padmé: Are you a slave?
Ani: I’m a person and my name is
Anakin!
Most people breathed a sigh of relief
knowing there’d be a decade leap between The
Phantom Menace and Attack of the
Clones. That was before Hayden Christensen was instructed to play teenage
Ani as a petulant brat. Which is still marginally preferable to Star Wars’ Baby’s Day Out. I can’t help
feeling sorry for Lloyd (who hasn’t acted in a decade), and Lucas must take the
full blame for casting a performer unable to respond to the emotional content while
simultaneously pushing deadly dialogue on him, which falls leaden from his
unalloyed jaws. Lloyd is out of his depth, in over his head, and can’t deliver
a line with anything approaching competence. There’s no sense of character,
just a bewildered kid thrown onto a film set; frequently you can see Portman or
McGregor or Neeson thinking “What is going
on here? What has Lucas done?” as
they share dialogue with Lloyd. To paraphrase things Harrison Ford has said
again, “You can type this shit, George, but Jake Lloyd sure can’t say it”.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: Why do I sense we’ve picked up another
pathetic life form?
The result is Lucas killing the genesis of
his most iconic character stone dead, far more so than Return of the Jedi revealing he was actually a flabby old guy under
the armour. On Tatooine the action, such as it is, stumbles and falls; there’s
a vacuum at its centre, because it now revolves entirely around Ani; there’s no
magic-making, just marking off points on a roundabout map. It’s a case of bring
the kid along, George said we should. Yippee!
Ani: I’ve been wondering, what are midichlorians?
Nothing Lucas can say about Ani being
amazing is remotely plausible, be it his building C3P0 (yeah, Darth Vader built
C3P0), his pod racing skills (“I’m the
only human who can do it”; too right, the rest of the contestants are
Warner Bros cartoon characters), his special powers (“He can see things before they happen”; “I had a dream I was a Jedi. I came back and freed all the slaves”)
or his midichlorian count (I know, I know) being higher than Yoda’s. The
much-feted pod race is, to be fair, well-realised (aside from the plethora of CGI
contestants and observers, including a two-headed compere, that feel completely
at variance with the established design of the Star Wars universe), but it can never really engage because its tiny main entrant can’t act for toffee.
Ani: Are you an angel?
This is also a huge problem establishing Ani’s
connection with Padmé (after the sibling
snogging in Star Wars, Lucas now blithely
sets up a relationship between a child and a teenager, so perhaps it’s
fortunate Lloyd can’t pass muster). As it turns out, the whole romance will be
entirely botched by Lucas, though, perhaps one of the problems of attempting to
write a fait accompli.
There’s also Ani’s entirely unmoving
relationship with mom Shmi (Pernilla August), who does an entirely convincing
impression of a doormat in any given situation while simpering about her virgin
birth (“There was no father – I can’t
explain what happened”; no shit, well if overt Biblical referencing didn’t
work for Willow, try, try again, eh
George?) I suppose it’s slightly subversive that George’s Jesus analogue turns
out to be a bad seed, but it’s difficult to care at all. Somehow Ani manages to
trample all over Shmi’s parental veto (“Mom,
you say that the biggest problem in the universe is that no one helps each
other”; what a little tyke). Really, if she had put her goddam foot down
and not kowtowed to Qui-Gon’s patriarchal zeal, everyone would have been a lot
better off.
Ani: This is tense!
Including however many thousands Neimoidian
who lost their lives (albeit Asian sounding Neimoidians, so I guess it doesn’t
matter too much, right George?) when Ani recklessly obliterates the droid
control ship. Young Skywalker’s penchant for mass destruction is sign of things
to come, I’ll grant Lucas that much at least. Clever foreshadowing. As for the
desperately weak device whereby, when the command ship goes to sleep all the
droids go to sleep, it’s just another in the line of decisive Lucas plot-foilers
(see the Death Star) and one that continues to have currency, even in really
great movies (Edge of Tomorrow).
Obi-Wan Kenobi: You were banished because you were clumsy?
I suppose the best thing you can say about
Jar Jar, viz-Ã -viz Ani, is that at
least Ahmed Best delivers a performance. One that smacks uncomfortably of
minstrel blackface, but a performance nonetheless. Jar Jar, a bleedin’ ijit who
is supposed to be endearing and frequently gets into situations involving poo
(or poodoo), is nothing if not a fully-conceived irritation, albeit not quite so
fully-conceived that real physical actors are able to match his virtual eye
line. You can bet that, if he had been universally lauded the way R2 and C3P0
were, his appearance in Attack of the
Clones would have been more than fleeting.
Qui-Gon Jinn: You hear that? That is the sound of a
thousand terrible things heading this way.
Somehow Brian Blessed’s Boss Nass, tossing
his enormous orb about in the final scene and at least relishing his every
hyperbolic utterance, is such an idiot of a ruler that he makes idiot Jar Jar a
general. Who, being an idiot, with a load of blue balls at his disposal, leads
a sterling attack that, like Ani’s razing of the droid ship, undermines any
ounce of drama the proceedings might have held. Bantha poodoo indeed.
Watto: Mind tricks don’t work on
me, only money.
The racial caricaturing doesn’t end with
Jar Jar. As noted, the Neimoidians are suggestive of Asian stereotypes, and portrayed
as crooked and scheming (and cowardly) villains; it isn’t giving them accents
per se that’s the problem, it’s the cumulative effect, along with Jar Jar and
Watto. Watto being the flying Jewish Fagin, obsessed with the accumulation of
wealth by any means, equipped with a sizeable hooter and given to pronouncements
like “My boy”.
So even when George is actually managing to
make an impression with his creations, he’s blotting his copy book. Most
critics of The Phantom Menace reserve
praise for Liam Neeson’s Qui-Gon, but there are serious problems with both
character and performance. Neeson, big lummox that he is, really needs
something to chew on to make an impression. Unfortunately, he’s nigh on
somnambulant as the Jedi Master. Try imagining Terence Stamp as Qui-Gon
instead; how much more engaging would that have been? Let Neeson play the
boring politician. He even makes “Feel,
don’t think. Use your instincts” turn to ashes.
But even Stamp couldn’t have prevented
Qui-Gon from looking like an idiot by bringing Jar Jar along (yeah, right, Jedi
foresight) or, more seriously, countered the way the character is continually
shown to be unscrupulous and a big fat liar (that ought to be why he didn’t
show up as a Force ghost at the end). He lies about the pod racer to Watto (“I have acquired a pod in a game of chance”),
he lies about midichlorions to Ani (“I’m
checking your blood for infections”), he cheats at dice to ensure Ani, not
his mother is part of the bet to release one of Watto’s slaves. And it’s his
own headstrong behaviour that sets up Ani’s eventual turn, by splitting him
from his mom and setting in motion the train of events that results in her
death. He also runs (or jumps) away from Darth Maul on first encounter, the 'fraidy Jedi.
Ani: What about mom?
Yeah, his mum. Sod her. Jedis clearly don’t care about women (I know, there’s at least one on the Jedi Council, but we don’t
hear her speak). Why, with all this lying and cheating, can’t Qui-Gon just
abscond with Shmi too? Simply because he doesn’t like women and doesn’t want
one getting in the way of his tutoring Ani in the ways of righteousness.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: They all sense it. Why can’t you?
Indeed, George. McGregor’s fine as Obi-Wan.
At the time, I recall just being grateful we dodged the bullet that is Sir
Kenneth Branagh, who had been rumoured. McGregor’s casting also suggested Lucas
was aware of the importance of the zeitgeist, since the actor was then at his
peak of popularity off the back of a trio of collaborations with Danny Boyle. Ewan’s
performance is in no way an approximation of Alec Guinness, and you can’t see
the man Ben Kenobi will become here, but McGregor, as a fan, is at least awake
and interested, even if his and Portman’s artificially stately tones make them sound
like they’re on laudanum at times.
He also gets the less surefooted aspect of
a learning apprentice down pat. McGregor’s the only part of the prequels that
would merit a spin-off movie, although he’s presumably now within about six or
seven years of the age of Guinness in A
New Hope (if you think those 20 years were really rough on the guy, look at
poor old Uncle Owen). Obi-Wan has little of consequence to do aside from kill
Darth Maul at the end, but it’s still the most resonant action in the whole
picture, and it’s quite a cool moment to boot (about the only moment you can
say that of herein). At other times, it’s very easy to fall back on passing the
time by spotting which shot was a reshoot, thanks to Ewan’s ever-varying hair
length. As for Obi-Wan promising to train Ani despite telling Qui-Gon he was
potty earlier, well, taking contrary attitudes for the sake of it will only set
you up for a world of hurt.
Portman’s able to do little with little,
even given she has two personas here. Which begs the question, do all these
smart people who fail to recognise Amidala/Padmé because she’s got a bit of
makeup on, including Jedi, need their eyes tested? It’s like Superman/Clarke
Kent, when the truth is closer to the Son
the Invisible Man in Amazon Women on
the Moon. Just humour George.
Qui-Gon Jinn: He is the chosen one. You must see it.
The Jedi. Well, they’re a washout. There
will be more Jedis in Episode II, but
none of them, CGI Yoda aside, give off anything remotely spiritual. Indeed,
Samuel L Jackson was mystifyingly praised for Mace Windu, a part Lucas gave him
after he expressed interest. Did he also say he’d only take it if he could
remain in his comfort zone? Is that why we get an alarmingly belligerent Jedi
master? He doesn’t say anything as anomalous as “This Party’s over” here (that award goes to the Neimoidian’s “Are you brain dead?”) but he helps
puncture the Jedi mystique very effectively.
Mind you, so do the midichlorians, and the
variant on Zener cards to test Ani’s skills, and not realising there are Sith
about, and Yoda’s “Much fear in you, I
sense” (I’m surprised anything he can read, so inexpressive is his
subject). The Sith bit is presumably intended to indicate an archaic group that
has rested on its laurels too long, bound by tradition and ensconced in the
comfort of Coruscant. At least, that’s my charitable explanation for why
they’re on a whizz-bang noisy CGI city world rather than somewhere a little
more Zen. But, since the Jedi are just another part of the affectless sheen
infecting every aspect of the picture, it’s often difficult to tell what’s
intentionally dubious and just poor writing.
Obi-Wan Kenobi: I have a bad feeling about this.
Also overloading The Phantom Menace are Lucas’ fan-serving gestures and shout-outs,
ironic for a guy who stubbornly edits his old movies and in so doing inflames
those very same fans. The most irritating here are the use of R2D2 and C3P0.
The former is now the over-heroic wonder droid, so there’s no curve to
realising he’s quite special. The latter is treated appallingly in the
prequels, most often in CGI form. Here he’s just Anthony Daniels’ voice (“My parts are showing? Oh my goodness!”)
but his presence resolutely helps to crush the idea of a vast, expansive galaxy
in which anything could be happening; everything is actually related to, and
ties in with, everything else, it seems. It’s so very small after all.
It’s also there in the returning creatures,
from the Tessek and Gran (Squid Head and Ree-Yees to me) to Jabba reminding us that the
old designs are so much better, Jawas exclaiming “Utinni!” and Tusken Raiders, thankfully not yet CGI-rendered. And
lines like “Close the blast doors”. Of
the new catchphrases, I don’t actually mind the “Roger-Roger” refrain of the Trade Federation droids so much; I
don’t think much of them design or function-wise, and it serves to add to the
general juvenilia of Jar-Jar and Ani, but it’s fairly inoffensive and isn’t “Mesa going home!”, which is in its
favour.
Senator
Palpatine: And
you, young Skywalker, we will watch your career with great interest.
If anyone ties this mess together it’s
McDiarmid, oozing effortless confidence and control, as if his puppeteer Lucas really is
a sound arbiter, both in terms of aesthetic and content. While it’s a crying
shame that’s not the case, there isn’t a moment in the prequels where Palpatine
(perhaps not so true of his Darth Sidious alter-ego) isn’t on form, and there
isn’t a noticeable moment where his dialogue flounders, so there is consistency (aside from the bad
consistency); it’s just found in one place only. I like how Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
ends, with Palpatine exactly where he wants to be and no one any the wiser
about his grand plan. That part of Lucas’ grand plan at least is satisfying.
It’s a shame so little else about it is.
