“I don’t want things to change.”
“But you can’t stop the change … anymore than you can stop the suns from setting.”
As I watched “The Phantom Menace” — George Lucas’ fourth entry in his Star Wars saga, an initial prequel tabbed appropriately “Episode I” — for the first time, late in the summer of 1999 (months after a negative backlash had already begun to take hold among some critics and fans), I couldn’t help smiling as I heard these lines of dialogue in my darkened theater.
Ostensibly, they were meant to convey and ease the suffering of one of our protagonists, Anakin Skywalker, as he must prepare to leave his mother to pursue his dreams of becoming a Jedi.
Instead, in that moment, they read as a direct warning to fans who had grown up and away from that childhood sense of wonder that had so taken hold of them as kids.
“You are different. These movies are different. Accept that and you’ll do well.”
Spoiler alert: A lot of people didn’t accept that.
Granted, many others did. As the first new Star Wars film to arrive in theaters in over 15 years, “Menace” was a tremendous commercial success by any measure. Even looking back now with greater context, the legs on that film were essentially the last of their kind for a major summer blockbuster release.
But there’s no denying opinions were mixed. Among major live-action releases under the Star Wars umbrella, “Menace” retains the lowest aggregate score on Rotten Tomatoes with a 54%. That score has sunk over time, as critics have felt more emboldened to dump on the film as they’ve seen others do the same, but it’s still representative of public opinion in a general sense.
Lots of people didn’t like this movie.
Those people no doubt feel seen and heard at this point. A LOT of ink and video has been dedicated to the reasons why this film didn’t work for them.
Most of this can be chalked up to one over-arching theme:
Change.
As noted above, this has manifested in two ways: changes visible in the film itself (which we’ll get to in a moment), but also changes in the audience.
I mean, people grow up.
Lucas’ dedication to serving a younger audience, which was obvious in his first two films but truly cemented in “Return of the Jedi,” was continued in “Menace.” His tapestry included kid-pleasing touches such as a child protagonist, the polarizing character of Jar Jar Binks, an abundance of childish humor, visually stimulating sequences like the pod-race, and a fairly black-and-white hero/villain divide (on the surface, anyway).
He also kept many of the finer details the same, from the bold narrative structure of his final act (inter-cutting from one dynamic scenario to the next), to the decision to build steadily toward that crescendo, to the themes of the little guy with the greater will prevailing, to the incredible, top-of-the-line sound, design and visual effects work that punctuated everything … much of this was familiar because it had been previously established as working well.
The crassness of this approach is debatable, but not its effectiveness. Hook the kids, get them buying merchandise, ensure your future, profit forever.
None of this was particularly new. What was new was that Lucas was now dealing with a generation that had previously grown up with his movies, and that generation wanted things tailored for them.
Their biggest complaint had been, and continues to be, that kid-friendly focus. The original fans had aged away from that. But the challenge to be overcome in embracing this new film was more intense than that. The world had changed as well.
The 1990s, as a decade, worked very hard at being edgy (particularly in the realm of pop culture). This sometimes came across very naturally (hello, The Matrix!), and at other times was forced as hell (hello, video game commercials!), but the “modern” sensibility of the time was in no small way the antithesis of “childhood wonder.”
“You see, Lucas hadn’t changed; it was the fans who had changed!“
Well, no and yes.
The second half of that statement is true, but Lucas had introduced several new elements in his newest film, and those creative decisions were often rejected just as neatly as the elements that had been previously established.*
* Utter the phrase “midichlorians” and a whole slew of people will wince/throw things at you. Still, the changes run a whole lot deeper than that.
I would argue many of those innovations are the film’s greatest strengths.
The choice to fully embrace new digital effects techniques such as CGI-rendered backgrounds and motion-capture characters has been panned relentlessly, but the decision to go this route remains a good one. These effects allow a film-maker to do more, and they have become a more cost-effective way of doing business as well. And what’s more, in this movie they were only paired with practical sets and models … they didn’t replace them.
The end result is that these are some of the best visual effects put to film.
Much consternation has been directed toward “Menace”‘s lack of a clear protagonist, or its inability to adhere to previously established film-making norms in general (Does this film have three acts?), but what results is a movie without a familiar structure … in other words, an interesting film.
This movie — a completely independent production — doesn’t adhere to Hollywood norms. The rhythms are strange. Offbeat. From the opening crawl, we’re treated to more political machinations than we’ve grown accustomed to, then, at long last, two Jedi warriors in their prime, knifing through enemies like hot butter. Eventually, we’ll get to see them face off against an acrobatic Darth Maul, a different kind of foe, though no less terrifying.
Fans had been waiting to see this kind of stuff since a grizzled Obi-Wan spoke of faraway wars (and their warriors) to a wide-eyed Luke back in the original “Star Wars” … how could anyone complain about this? It was spell-binding.
The newer characters, as a group, are well-realized and welcome additions to the universe. Qui-Gon has become a fan favorite as the enlightened Jedi, Padme brought ferocity and competence to the table as a strong female character, and Darth Maul is just relentlessly cool and provides a jolt of energy whenever he appears on screen.*
* Lucas has received criticism for disposing of all three by the end of his prequel trilogy, but he pretty much had to. I think the criticism gains merit when you consider HOW he dispatched of all three … each represents a missed opportunity.
The movie slows down when we arrive at Tatooine (always a welcome sight) to meet a young Darth Vader (Anakin), a mere boy in this movie, and an interesting choice to be sure. Lucas has spoken to that decision, and ultimately, he wanted to portray the idea that the worst evil in the galaxy (or more accurately, our world) can come from the most innocent of sources. He wanted to show that bastardization fully.
It was a bold decision, because it painted him into a corner in future films (a corner of having to rush to connect all the necessary dots). And it was not at all what many fans wanted or expected.
So to, was the rise to power of one Emperor Palpatine. His evil machinations were subtle and Machiavellian. There would be time for over-the-top cackling and lightning blasts later. This version of the character needed to work the marionettes around him like a true puppet-master.
“Wait, they voted THIS guy into office?!?”
How delightful.
Many Star Wars movies over the years have done a tremendous job of setting up the chess board for an epic game to be concluded later, but none are as subversive about doing so as “The Phantom Menace.”
By the end of this movie, we’ve introduced Palpatine, given this actual menace (as opposed to his created crisis) the proverbial throne, introduced him to his eventual right-hand man, and established that the Jedi (and the Republic itself) are ripe for tumbling.
And people call “The Empire Strikes Back” a dark film.
All of these dark matters are presented before and during a rousing victory parade, set to a joyful rendition of the Emperor’s throne-room theme from “Return of the Jedi.” Pastels and bright colors and shininess adorn everything. The innocence of children and Gungans and happy fun times and … dear god, what’s actually going on here?
Plainly, this re-establishes a tradition from the original movie back in 1977: subversive political commentary.
It’s easy to point to the demon man with the red lightsaber and call him a bad guy. But what if everyone got the actual enemy wrong? What’s brewing underneath all of that polish? Is that not a scarier thought?
Hell, look at the title itself. As noted, it reveals the entire plot of the movie, that the “menace” of the trade federation blockading a planet was merely a “phantom” one, meant only to give rise to Palpatine and his quest for power.
But consider an additional interpretation. Look externally back toward the fans, many of whom came to despise a property they had previously so admired. For them, this new movie meant a betrayal of the Star Wars they knew and loved.
What if that betrayal was fictitious? A “Phantom Menace” of its own? What if the genuine enemy for the disappointed fans was actually … expectations?
I’m fond of the notion that Star Wars fans’ intense, emotional connection to these movies informs their reaction to newer entries in the saga. This is represented most clearly when changes are introduced. And despite its adherence to many formats and choices established in previous films, “The Phantom Menace” also went off script in exciting and bold ways.
Did every decision work? No. But this is still undeniably the work of a creative genius.
Whenever I hear moaning of what a terrible piece of cinema this movie is, I softly chuckle, think of my own kids’ reaction to it (they ADORE it), consider that opinions have softened in recent years, and then I generally recall that one piece of dialogue that comforts me in my own life.
You can’t stop the change.
And that’s okay.
Liked this post? Check out:
My retrospective on “Return of the Jedi”
My retrospective on “The Empire Strikes Back”
My retrospective on “Star Wars: A New Hope”