Episode One: Phantom Menace — A Menace To My Mind And Logical Thinking

The Phantom Menace is what happens when you allow George Lucas complete creative control over a film. The movie is full of plot holes, platitudes, morally questionable characters, and utterly irreverent to decent story writing. The film acts as a wrecking ball in the glorious temple of the Star Wars movie complex.

I think what interests me most about Episode 1 initially is the desire for a back story. A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, Return of The Jedi — this cohesive trilogy of movies creates characters and places that intrigue me, fascinate me and fill me with mystery and wonder. I have a strong emotional attachment to these movies — I love them more now than I had as a child.

When Episode 1 premiers, I think most audiences are excited to learn about the backstories of these characters that they love so much. They are going to explore more deeply the Star Wars universe. Moreover, they are going to get a significant dose of history and legacy — history and heritage serve as essential elements to Star Wars. The magic of Star Wars is that it takes a series of films and turns them into a Universe, timeless mythology with a bottomless wellspring of storytelling. Star Wars' history contributes to this legacy because time plays an essential yet straightforward element in Star Wars. Through history, we learn about the genealogy of Jedi and Sith — how these ancient traditions evolve, disappear and reappear over time. Not only do we become attached to the characters, but we also become attached to their family history and to which side, Jedi or Sith, the characters and their families belonged.

When one watches Episode 1, The Phantom Menace, they enjoy none of these classic aspects of Star Wars. Instead of the above-celebrated features of Star Wars storytelling, the audience learns of a trade war over "taxes." George Lucas reduces the back story of Obi-Wan Kenobi to being the personal assistant of Qui-Gon Jinn. In the story, the purpose of this legendary character, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and his Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, is to serve as diplomats and broker a trade deal between Naboo and the Trade Federation's embargo of Naboo. Oh yeah, what is Naboo? Why is Naboo relevant? We have no idea. All we know is that the Trade Federation is blockading Naboo's space traffic for what appears to be an invasion.

The scenes on Naboo are laughable. I will start by just devoting the following to its paragraph in all caps:

JAR JAR BINX SHOULDN'T EXIST. HE SHOULD BE EDITED OUT.

OK, now that I got that out of my system, I'll continue.

The entire scene where Qui-Gon Jin, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Jar Jar Binx visit the underwater city only justifies why Jar Jar Binx had to be with them for the movie's entirety. That's it. George Lukas, in this scene, subjects his audience to his unfiltered and unrelenting cinematic nonsense. The focus of these scenes is on the colors rather than the characters. The focus on these scenes is on the special effects rather than purpose and service to the story. The focus of these scenes is to delight the imagination of a seven-year-old rather than develop a storyline that captivates hundreds of millions of people with so much mystery and intrigue. What happens in these scenes? A big fish chases a submarine with the above party of people, and then that fish gets eaten by a substantially larger fish with arms and legs — and what were we suppose to take away from this scene? Don't worry. Qui-Gon sums it up: "There's always a bigger fish." Thanks, Liam.

I won't even get into how racist the fictional characters are. I don't have to explain this — anyone watching this film can see that Jar Jar Binx, the Gungan society, and the Neimoidians are abject tropes depicted by primarily white males and baby boomers. Shocking — George Lucas falls into both of these categories.

It feels as if the movie's whole premise is based on personal gripe George Lucas has against the federal government and paying taxes. Did the IRS fine George Lukas at some point in the 90s? Is this story more about George Lukas's personal feelings about taxation without representation?

Also, midi-chlorians? I'm sorry, chlorophyll, more like "boro-phyll"? Midi-chlorians, also known as the most boring way to tell that you have the Force. George Lucas reduces the mystical, spiritual, and all-encompassing power of the Force to some scientific absurdity to do with a person's blood. As an element in the story, the allure to the Force is that it is difficult to describe and seems to escape human understanding due to its spiritual characteristics. Being able to scientifically identify someone's capacity for the Force through midi-chlordan volume in someone's blood goes diametrically opposite to what the nature of the Force truly is — something spiritual and elusive to human understanding. Science, by definition, is not spiritual and is designed to further man's knowledge of the world.

I have to stop myself here. I think this review would quickly turn into a critique, surpassing the length of War and Peace. I think the last point I will make is about the scene in the Senate and what could have been a great movie.

Instead of the Trade Blockade being the focus of the Senate, why not have the re-emergence of the Sith serve as the focus of the Senate's proceedings where Palpatine plays a double agent? With the re-emergence of the Sith acting as the focal point, the story would achieve so many things: the duplicity of Palpatine, explain what the Sith are in contrast to the Jedi, their respective histories, and provide the context for a rich backstory as to why the republic crumbled ultimately. They also would hook into their bread and butter story writing: the battle between good and evil. Star wars do this story writing so well — if it's not broken, don't fix it. We want to know how the Sith came to be and how The Empire took over. This storyline would give Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jin much more heroic roles vs. some stale ass ambassadors drinking tea in outer space near Naboo. Maybe Naboo can be the origins of the Jedi or have some special place in the legacy of the Jedi. This edit would elevate Naboo's relevance and purpose to the story.

In writing this review, I so happen to stumble upon one of George Lucas's defenses against his critics of the prequels:

Oh yes, that's right, George. Children love stories about taxes and trade embargos. I remember my former 12-year-old self absolutely adoring stories about senate proceedings, motions, and minority appeals.

Episode 1 serves an important lesson for us all: more often than not, it is probably better not to always get what one wants. When someone has complete control over every decision made during anything, that person is most likely overstepping their boundaries. Chances are, they will try to control something over which they are mainly ignorant and incompetent. Humans are finite. No one has all the answers. When creating something with others, know your role -- delegate. Know what you are good at. Let people who are better than you at something proceed with doing what they are good at. Of course, speak your mind. Participate in discussion — but do not insist on controlling everything.

If you do indeed end up controlling everything, you might end up with your very own Phantom Menace.

This movie is best paired with Clams with Spaghetti -- an ode to the underwater world that saves the planet of Naboo.