Ewan McGregor does some masterly vocal work, finding a way to blend his Scottish accent with an approximation of Alec Guinness' purr. But the role allows no room for McGregor's fire. And why cast one of the few young actors around who has the dash to play a hero if you don't allow him a hero's panache and reckless bravery? Though Yoda, R2-D2 and C-3PO make welcome appearances, Lucas miscalculates badly with the new creature, Jar-Jar Binks, which, with its quasi-Caribbean dialect and jivey carriage, strays uncomfortably into the realm of racial caricature, though a bigger problem is that most of his dialogue is almost totally unintelligible.

"Star Wars" fans have said again and again that they've been waiting 16 years (since "Return of the Jedi" was released) for this movie. "The Phantom Menace" suggests that, for Lucas, the wait has been too long. I can't think of any other movie aimed at an eager, worldwide audience that seems so locked up in its maker's head. Not just in the clumsy, careless way the story is told, but in the way Lucas' movie squanders all the detailed work that has gone into the movie's design. In the press material he talks about wanting to create a separate look, a distinct culture, for each of the film's worlds. For Naboo, he's designed a city that sits atop waterfalls. There's a planet covered by skyscrapers and an underwater city where the dwellings are shaped like translucent Hershey's Kisses. But Lucas gives us no time to drink in any of these sights, forgetting about them after a few quick vistas and then scurrying along.

The film gives the impression of being both over-edited and not yet in its final form, of being nothing but plot and having no real story, of being off-puttingly unfamiliar and utterly predictable. He has likened the movie to a symphony, saying there are "certain musical refrains I am purposely repeating." Maybe Lucas thought that copying so many of the first trilogy's recognizable set pieces saved him the trouble of drawing audiences into this new story. In Salon Arts & Entertainment last week, Michael Sragow reported that Lucas likes to think of himself as a toy maker. "The Phantom Menace" is like nothing so much as the private game of a solitary boy moving his imagined characters hither and thither in the freedom that comes from not having to explain the game to anybody else. Sometimes, a director's craziness can provide a unifying excitement to films that have a shaky narrative. But Lucas doesn't have that sort of visionary passion. He can come up with the idea for a space opera that will span six films, populated by all sorts of creatures, and yet his isn't the sort of imagination that takes loony flight. He's the squarest fantasy filmmaker imaginable.

None of this, of course, is going to keep "The Phantom Menace" from being a monstrous hit. But I seriously doubt that the film is going to occupy the place in the fans' affections that the first three do. Primed to love it, the audience at the preview I attended erupted in cheers when the familiar credits burst on the screen. But as the movie went on, those cheers took on the sound of people desperately trying to convince themselves they were having a good time. And I have a feeling that the repeat business the movie will likely get is going to be the result of people going back to try to explain away the disappointment they feel. Just being there may be enough for most fans, like the ones who camped out last week in order to buy advance tickets. "Star Wars" has been part of the lives of most of these people since they were children, and you can't blame them for wanting to take part in a pop phenomenon. "Star Wars" may not be what I dream of in the movies, but I think the millions of people for whom it has occupied a central place in their fantasy lives deserve better than this spiritless, cobbled-together pastiche.
salon.com | May 19, 1999

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