John Frederick Parker: I really admire what you've done here in terms of trying to rehabilitate a truly godawful movie using as light a hand as possible.
Let me just share my personal reactions to Star Wars Episode 1, and do with them what you will:
1. Throughout the entire movie, I never felt as though I was immersed in a story of any kind. To be honest, it felt like watching someone else play a series of (not particularly interesting) minigames -- oh, look, here's the "underwater city" game; here's the "pod racing" minigame; here's the "battle-on-board-the-space-station-replete-with-randomly-appearing-force-fields-for-no-other-reason-other-than-to-frustrate-the-player" videogame, etc.
I don't know how this problem can be fixed -- I'm not in the camp that says CGI is the scourge of our existence, for example -- but I do know that this overarching sense that the movie itself wasn't trying to get me to suspend my disbelief contributed mightily to the fact that I never, ever felt a connection with any of these characters and thus couldn't give a crap about them.
2. Every scene with Anakin in it was just painfully wrong. Okay, the film wants to beat us over the head with how special Anakin is, so we get everyone talking about how great Anakin is, culminating with the painfully expository "midichlorians" dialogue. Then, because Lucas has heard "show, don't tell," we're treated to scenes of: a nine-year-old building C-3PO (!), being entered by adults -- and winning a ridiculously dangerous hovercar-pod-thingy race, and finally, destroying an entire robot army.
Each and every one of these elements was so painfully stupid as to effectively break the film. If you want to show how Anakin is a gifted nine-year-old, have him do something that nine-year-olds can't do -- not something that no person in the universe could do.
Seriously: think of how much -- deserved -- criticism the Tony Stark building the Iron Man suit in Afghanistan scene gets from the first Iron Man film. Now remember that Stark a) was a supergenius adult, b) using high-tech starting materials, who c) produced a noticeably hobbled prototype. How the hell is a penniless slave child in the middle of the desert supposed to build anything? Does he make his own silicon chips from the sand? That's not genius, that's just bad writing.
I don't want to belabor just how crappy these elements are, but I also need to point out that the reaction of the adults to Anakin are all equally wrong. No adult is going to say "oh, hey, I bet this 9-year-old I just met could probably win this unbelievably dangerous hovering-pod-race thing." It's weird, because the Jedi are constantly talking about how much Anakin needs guidance and instruction (the one thing that rings true), but then their actions show a complete and unwavering faith in a nine-year-old child to do the impossible.
I would task Lucas to read something like Ender's Game to understand how to write the nine-year-old prodigy role.
3. Most bafflingly: the central conceit of Episode 1 -- that Palpatine controls both sides and is manipulating them behind the scenes for his personal (successful!) aggrandizement -- is actually a really good idea; it's just executed terribly. We as the audience have special knowledge (that Palpatine is the bad guy), and there's no better device in storytelling than forcing the audience to root for the bad guy. But somehow, that never really happens. I think it's partly because there's so much other stupid stuff going on (like the whole oh-look-Padme-is-really-the-Queen-in-disguise nonsense), but it's also due to missed opportunities in storytelling.
So suppose instead that the Federation army is advancing on the Imperial Palace on Naboo, destroying the living hell out of everything in its path. No Gungans, no force field, no stupid Anakin in a fighter; just an unstoppable juggernaut of destruction marching inexorably towards the palace. Oh, and Queen Amidala is inside, having returned to try and rally her people during the attack. A Republic starship sits in orbit, monitoring the situation, but the captain will not fire on the Trade Federation troops without an express order from the Galactic Senate.
Back on Coruscant, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are pleading with Chancellor Valorum to give the order to fire, but he won't do it because of some arcane, bureaucratic principle of Senate law. ("Naboo was declared a demilitarized zone under the Kaspar Accords, and by treaty, we cannot use military force within two parsecs of the system!")
We cut back and forth between the Jedi trying to plead with the Galactic senate and the Federation army pounding Naboo into the ground. A character we've met earlier in the movie and come to know and respect is killed.
On Coruscant: A motion in the Senate to abrogate the Kaspar treaty fails.
Naboo: Federation tanks roll through the outer gates of the palace. Queen Amidala's trusted aides from the beginning of the film are killed. We see the Queen in a "War Room," trying to plan strategy and muster additional troops.
Coruscant: A motion for reconsideration is denied by Chancellor Valorum, who looks upon the Jedi with pity, but says "This matter is settled. The treaty is law. As long as I am Chancellor, this body will uphold the law."
Back on Naboo, palace guards take Queen Amidala and her charge, Anakin, and rush the two children to an underground bunker. She's screaming, crying, demanding to stay and fight and lead her people, but the burly guards lock her in a reinforced steel chamber for her protection while lasers rain down all around them.
Coruscant: Shady, untrustworthy Senator Palpatine tells the Jedi that a formal declaration of war will supercede the treaty. He's prepared to move a resolution to the floor, but there's a catch: three members of the Senate are Federation sympathizers. If the Jedi can just... detain them for half an hour, the declaration will pass and Chancellor Valorum will give the order that will save Naboo. "Oh, and one more thing," says Palpatine. "Rumor has it that these Senators have been consorting with the Sith. Do be careful."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, who have been wavering during the entire pitch, are convinced and race off to stall the Senators. Meanwhile, a Palpatine lackey shuffles his papers, and instead of voting for a declaration of war, calls for a vote of no confidence to oust the Chancellor.
Still administering in bureaucratic fashion, Valorum notes that, "procedurally, a vote of 'no confidence' can only proceed without objection by the Order of the Jedi." A pause. The Jedi, of course, have left the scene. With a twinge of sadness, Valorum concludes: "...hearing no opposition, we proceed to a vote."
Back on Naboo: Droid 1 looks at Droid 2. "Our orders are to capture the Queen. Or at least, return with her body."
On Coruscant: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan come across the Senators, who are guarded by Darth Maul. There's a fierce battle, and, just as the Jedi appear to have subdued Maul, one of the Senators stabs Qui-Gon in the back. Obi-Wan whirls and slices the Senator in half. He's momentarily horrified by his actions, but quickly regroups in time to defeat Maul.
Naboo: Anakin cowers in terror as the heavy bulkhead door above him clangs from powerful blows being delivered from the outside. Amidala is equally terrified, but protectively embraces Anakin, promising to keep him safe. Meanwhile, we see dents forming inward; it won't be much longer before the door is breached....
As Obi-Wan limps back to the Senate floor, we see Palpatine elected Chancellor. "Ah, my Jedi," the new Chancellor purrs sickeningly. "Come with me, as I make good on my promise." The Chancellor leads Obi-Wan to a war room on Coruscant, as he contacts the Republic's starship and begins pummelling the Federation army from space. We see Palpatine gleefully pushing buttons, raining lasers down on the Federation forces indiscriminately, cackling as droids, troops, and materiel all explode from the orbital bombardment.
Obi-Wan is sickened by the scene of destruction emerging in front of him and Senator Palpatine obviously reveling in it, but he remembers why he's here. "You have to protect the palace and save Queen Amidala, Senator Palpatine!"
"That's Chancellor Palpatine. And I am a man of my word, my young Jedi." Palpatine pushes a few more buttons, and the Republic starship vaporizes the troops in and around the palace.
On Naboo: the pounding on the bulkhead door stops.
We then cut to one final scene on Coruscant, paralleling the end of A New Hope: Chancellor Palpatine bestowing the Republic's equivalent of the Medal of Honor on Obi-Wan for "extraordinary assistance to the Republic and the territory of Naboo during a time of crisis." The other Jedi watch, disapprovingly. Queen Amidala and Anakin, having flown to Coruscant in the interregnum, cheer wildly from the gallery. Obi-Wan himself looks uncomfortable.
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Now, that's just something I banged out in 15 minutes here -- I'm sure actual screenwriters could do a hell of a lot better. But somehow, Lucas managed to do much, much worse. What we want throughout this movie is that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize you're cheering for the bad guys. And yet the entire trilogy somehow manages to never pull that off. How is that even possible?
Anyway, just banging out some thoughts. Do with them what you will.
