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November 26, 2009
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Home > Movies > Reviews > 2005 |  
Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith
| posted 5/19/2005



Lucas's greatest success in Revenge of the Sith is this: We can't help but sympathize with Anakin as he surrenders to the Dark Side. Lo and behold, Darth Vader did not strive to be a heartless villain. He became one by trying to protect the one he loved, going blind to the greater good in the process. The stakes are finally high enough to earn gasps, and the ensuing tragedy is almost Shakespearean. Three intensely emotional lightsaber showdowns—two of which invert the famous Luke/Vader/Emperor face-off of Return of the Jedi, and another that severs bonds of friendship—stir up some of the operatic drama we remember from duels in Empire and Jedi. We're drawn, at last, to the edges of our seats.

Natalie Portman plays Padme, Anakin's wife
Natalie Portman plays Padme, Anakin's wife

Simultaneously, Lucas discovers what actors are for—acting! He throws a switch, and suddenly Christensen, Portman, and McGregor come alive, emoting as if things really matter. Lucas choreographs them through a virtuosic sequence culminating in the descent of a devil who resembles specters that lurked in The Seventh Seal, The Fellowship of the Ring, and The Passion of The Christ. We're suddenly in Frankenstein territory, as Sidious builds a better monster. This scene of darkness and deformity is effectively intercut with images of grief, despair, and finally, a glimmer of hope. With all of the dark drama of Titanic sinking, Darth Vader rises.

In a rush of surprisingly familiar faces and locations, the circle is made complete, and our questions—most of them, anyway—are finally answered. But new questions are sure to linger in moviegoers' minds …

QUESTIONS!

Did Lucas intend Sith to be a commentary on contemporary politics? He denies it, but you'll wonder. Padmé watches the Republic crumble, and remarks, "So this is how liberty ends—to thunderous applause." Dooku and Grievous resemble a recently overthrown warlord and a smash-and-run terrorist, both hunted by an elected leader armed with emergency executive powers. Something's familiar when Anakin shouts, "If you're not for me, then you're my enemy!"

Sith's spiritual subtext is provocative as well. Few tales of pride have led to harder falls. But Anakin isn't just arrogant; he's reacting to a seeming lack of trust, care, and compassion from the Jedi Council. Like Gladiator's villain, Anakin strikes because he's been denied the love he desires. And like The Godfather's Michael Corleone, he's sold his soul to gain power and ensure his family's safety. Lucas vividly illustrates that a violent man convinced of his own righteousness is dangerous indeed. But does our storyteller recognize that his celebrated Jedi Council characters seem better at cold detachment than they do at "tough love"? Obi-Wan was wise to teach Luke Skywalker not to give in to anger, but isn't some level of concern for our loved ones a good thing? Isn't it asking an awful lot of Anakin to expect him to just "detach" from Padmé?

Ian McDiarmid is chilling as Palpatine
Ian McDiarmid is chilling as Palpatine

Deciding that desirable ends justify sinister means, Anakin writes off the Jedi as "evil." Obi-Wan answers, "Only a Sith deals in absolutes!" Does Obi-Wan mean that there are no absolutes? If so, then why does he absolutely disagree with Anakin's perspective? Or perhaps he means that it's dangerous to make oversimplifications about good and evil. If so, that's a lesson Kenobi forgets in later episodes. Luke must defy Obi-Wan and Yoda in Empire and Jedi to make the journey where he will find that Vader is not "absolutely" evil.

It's increasingly hard to believe that the Force "binds the galaxy together" in the end. It remains merely a commodity, something that Jedi and Sith can get and learn to manipulate for their own purposes, good or evil. In The Lord of the Rings and Raiders of the Lost Ark, there was "another will at work," an Authority worth serving, a Higher Being that could redeem a mess made by well-intentioned but insufficient heroes. Phanton Menace told us that the Force has "a will." Why, then, do the Jedi not appeal to it? Sith and Jedi—both of them corrupt—seek merely to control it. There's apparently no Higher Power they believe can save them—not even in the afterlife. They're on their own.



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