Early on in Star Wars Episode iii: Revenge
Of The Sith, Obi-Wan Kenobi leaps from his giant lizard (conveniently
escaping a blast from his mutinous Clone Troopers) and plunges
into a lake below to search for his heroin suppository. The scene
that follows is one of cinematic poetry. Interspersed with scenes
of Anakin pledging his allegiance to Palpatine, the two scenes
show one Jedi literally plunging to rock-bottom amidst suffocating
darkness in search of something (an end, an answer, a cure), while
the other goes through the same situation metaphorically. Obi-Wan
promptly returns to his Edinburgh flat upon finding his suppository
to begin the process of weaning himself from heroin addiction
cold turkey. Unbeknownst to him, he and Jedi Master Yoda are the
only two survivors of their ancient practice. While locked in
solitary confinement in the United Kingdom enduring agonizing
heroin withdrawl, Obi-Wan is completely oblivious to the extermination
of the Jedi all over the galaxy.
Padme,
having seen the Jedi Temple under attack, fears for her love’s
safety. However, Anakin soon comes to her apartment and assures
her everything is okay. But to ensure her safety, he recommends
that she spend the night in a Wal-Mart in Sequoyah, Oklahoma.
Padme complies and spends the next six weeks alone and broke,
until she goes into labor in the Wal-Mart. Thought to be bearing
only a single child, Padme gives birth to twins who become celebrities
of a sort, known locally as “The Wal-Mart Babies.”
Padme
was thought to have died in childbirth, but secretly ran away
to where the heart is… that’s right, I’m talking
about the garden state itself, New Jersey, where she committed
herself to neurological experimentations. It was at her new neurologist’s
office that she met and instantly fell in love (typical post-breakup
behavior) with Zach Braff, who would serve as her “rebound
Annie,” and was never heard from again… that was until
she left Braff, realizing her relationship with him was one of
unbalanced dependency which had been embedded in her during her
former abusive, negligent relationship to a Dark Lord of the Sith,
in which she simply craved attention. With the realization that
she never really loved Braff, Padme escaped to LA to spend the
few remaining days of her life with her step-father, Al Pacino,
in his downtown hotel room, where she ultimately committed suicide
in the bathroom, and was THEN never heard from again… but
for real this time. A gloomy funeral scene on Naboo followed.
Jack Nicholson, with whom she saved the planet Earth from a Martian
invasion prior to her time as a politician on Naboo, gave the
eulogy.
Had
Mace Windu spent less time with his inquisition of European pseudonyms
for hamburgers, or coaching basketball for black urban youths
with poor academic performances, or perhaps if he had simply been
paying more attention rather than having his back to Palpatine’s
indoor aquarium while lecturing Anakin, he wouldn’t have
gotten eaten by that Sith shark. Master Windu had earlier predicted
on a late night talk show that his death would be meaningful and
he would no go out like “some punk.” Sadly yet triumphantly,
his prediction was true; what more of a meaningful/less of a punk-oriented
death exists than being consumed by a Sith shark? In a demented
display of his twisted, morbid sense of humor, Palpatine used
the force to send Windu’s amputated forearm to Jurassic
Park, where it was later found by Laura Dern.
I recently read an article in a local university’s
student periodical publication that claimed to be, quote (from
the article itself): A review of Star Wars Episode iii: Revenge
of the Sith. Not only did the mam-a-jam-a who wrote this article
diverge from his objective responsibilities as a journalist, but
the emmer effer never even reviewed the movie! The words of his
finalized, printed article were again (quoted directly from the
article as it appeared in the newspaper): A review of Star Wars
Episode iii: Revenge of the Sith. I’m not accustomed to
journalists normally giving a synopsis of their article (in the
form of a sentence fragment) within the article prior to the actual
article, but this sucka didn’t even synopsize his article
correctly! The fragment should have read: “A review of my
movie theater experience during Star Wars Episode iii: Revenge
of the Sith.” By the way, this ding-dong connoisseur was
in the exact same theater at the exact same showing of the film
as the Dam Dirty Apes and, unlike us, was amused by the lightsaber
foreplay carried out by all the Star Wars fans who bear excessive
amounts of chromosome 21 in some or all of their cells—all
of whom someone was nice enough to dress-up in what I assume was
some form of humanized wildlife tagging for the benefit of easier
identification by all of us with a respectable chromosome count.
My review of this film does not make sense. Much
in the sense that fans who so blindly continue to support Fuhrer
Lucas cannot respectably justify their reasons for doing so, I
am rendered unable to complete a review for a film whose compressed
sixth installment could have, ideally, been more successful had
the same story been applied to the last three installments with
the pivotal pieces from the fourth and fifth remaining. Lucas
himself must be a master of the Sith arts in order to have convinced
so many masses that he has successfully completed the story to
which he gave birth almost three decades ago. No sir, mister Lucas,
I see through your veil of bad film making and the subsequent
lack of effort given towards writing a non-insulting, well-thought
script in which questions are answered and no pivotal continuity
explanations rushed… FOR SHAME!
On the irrefutable and all conclusive “How-Many-Times-Kevin-Gonna-Watch-Dih-Bih-Today”
scale, YOU SIR, receive a C minus. Rated PG-13 for nonsensical
suckage, lack of thorough explanation as to why either of the
last two Jedi who left their practice to ally themselves with
the Sith (be it abruptly or Christopher Lee-ish), inappropriate
droid humor, rushed solutions to continuity problems (such as
abundance of Jedi, abundance of Samuel Jackson, abundance of operational
battle droids, abundance of separatist species, abundance of unnecessary
droid general(s), lack of Death Star, lack of Grand Moff Tarkin,
lack of a Grand Moff (or any Moff) at all, lack of force-attuned
infants, lack of ability to concisely maintain the attention of
Kevin, etc.), inappropriate casting of Bruce Spence, and mild
language.
-Kevin
