Speaking of killing someone completely useless to society, George Lucas is on my shitlist. I don't know WHY, but every damned three years I go into the movie theater thinking, "OK, this one will be better. This one will blow all the rest out of the fucking landfill." And every fucking three years I keep having to slap myself in the face to keep from falling asleep.
It sucks, just a little bit, when you know EXACTLY what's going to happen. These Star Wars stories should've stayed exactly that. Stories. Stories alluded to by the characters in the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth movies. There was nothing in I, II, and III that really NEEDED to be told, or rather, shown to the masses in long, bloated, trite-dialogue-filled tests of the audience's will to live. "She's dying; she's lost her will to live." Yes, and now so have I. "There's still good in him, I can see it." I hereby announce my plans for the gangland assassination of Natalie Portman. She's GOT to be the worst actress in the history of cinema (move over, Jennifer Lopez, Elizabeth Berkeley, and Britney Spears).
So, OK, they have that fight scene at the end, and the two HUMAN characters are standing on these floating metal slabs a few feet over a sea of lava, and they barely break a sweat. Then, when Anakin Skywalker is on the edge of the land, with the lava behind him, THEN he starts blowing up in flames. Yeah, that makes sense. Oh, and don't forget the fact that in these prequels, all the technology is superiorly advanced, but then when we move ahead 18 or so years to when Luke Skywalker comes of age, all the technology reverts back to this piddling mass of inferiority. R2D2 never fucking kicks NEARLY as much ass in the last three movies! No more double lightsabers, no more of those advance spherical robots with the force shields who are practically impossible to kill, and you can just forget about all those fucking Clone Droids. They disappear faster than my boner for this movie upon seeing the opening scene of this movie.
And WHAT'S the deal with the commercials showing off the Planet of the Wookies a ton, and then it's in the actual movie for about five minutes? Seriously, in Return of the Jedi, if they would've just gone to the Wookie Planet instead of those God-foresaken Ewoks, it would've won every Oscar ever made.
OK, here's something else. You know space. Outer Space. See, it's this thing, past the Earth's atmosphere. It's vast, it's dark, it's cold. And it has NO GRAVITY. Yet, when one of the giant warships is hit, and starts angling downward (what? downward? towards WHAT?) like it's a fucking Cruise Ship going down in the Carribean, everything starts falling out of the opening. But, there's no gravity in space. But ... but ...
"NO!" George Lucas bellows from overhead. "I AM GOD AND WHAT I SAY GOES! IF I SAY THERE'S GRAVITY IN SPACE, THEN YOU'LL DAMN WELL FALL FROM THAT SHIP, PLUMMETTING TO YOUR GRIZZLY DEMISE!"
OK, George Lucas, if you say so. Was anyone else sitting back and wondering, at the very end, with Darth Vader in his suit, sidling up next to the Emperor, when they were gonna pan back so they could show the "Mission Accomplished" banner that SURELY was hanging on a wall behind them? Please, George Lucas, my head hurts from all the times you beat that George W. Bush connection over it.
And, was anyone else thinking, when Yoda was fighting with the Emperor, that this is just a man holding a foot-long rod fighting with a cartoon? Man, when I get some money, and a film company, I can't wait until I get my showdown with Shredder and all his Foot Soldiers. You know, I liked this movie a lot better the first time I saw it, when it was called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" I'd take Jessica Rabbit over Natalie Portman any day.
George Lucas, this isn't NYPD Blue, Jimmy Smits will NOT save your movie.
Oh how I long for the days of 1999 when I only had Jar Jar Binks and a snot-nosed little brat to berate. Seriously, there was about seven hours of filler in these three movies for the fucking money shot we were all waiting for. Darth Vader to finally get his suit. I'm telling you, James Earl Jones should've called in sick. A third installment of The Sandlot would've been better than this piece of shit.
George Lucas, stop making movies, please. Your time was in the late 70s and early 80s. Your production company is second to none if you like all those advanced graphics, but your writing leaves a lot to be desired. And, if you're thinking about making another Indiana Jones, do us all a favor. Hand Harrison Ford the whip and let him beat you until you're bloody and knee-buckling. Then, let me tie you to a chair so you're forced to sit back and watch, A Clockwork Orange style, all the movies you've made in the last decade. And then I'll make you watch all the Lord of the Rings movies. And, if you're still coherent, I'll show you "Crossroads", featuring Britney Spears, a movie so much better than any of those it will surely make your brain explode.
And then I get to teabag you, because that's the only thing worth the $9.00 I spent and the 2 and a half hours of my life I lost yesterday