There’s a scene in Revenge of the Sith where Palps and Anakin are chatting it up in some Coruscant theater. George Lucas’s vision of fine art the Star Wars universe is an amorphous blob with psychedelic lighting, like some holographic Digital Blasphemy rendering. Pure spectacle; no story.
That’s how I feel about all the prequels: spectacle.
Unlike the original trilogy, there are no memorable lines, no laughs, no scoundrels, no fringe elements. Only cue-card reading actors trying to look impressed by the green screen.
But Ewan McGregor should get his doctorate in Alec Guinness impersonation, Natalie Portman (judging from her performance) has been replaced by Real Doll, and Lucas should jump into a pool of gold coins, ala Scrooge McDuck.
Still though, it’s a most impressive spectacle. Too bad it cost me $9.45 (for Fandago to ensure a seat) and Digital Blasphemy is free (mostly)