Hello there!
If you missed my introduction to this project? Be sure to check it out here.
Otherwise, welcome to Part I of this, my chronological Star Wars re-watch series.
Today, I’m taking a look back, as a whole, at the prequel trilogy movies. This includes:
Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)
Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones (2002)
Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Let’s get to it! Thank you, as always, for reading Off-Balance (and be sure to be share this newsletter with the Star Wars fan in your life).
Ryan.
By the time the original Star Wars trilogy concluded, with 1983’s Return of the Jedi, George Lucas, as the story goes, was ready to take his ball and go home.
Although he only (officially) directed the first movie (1977’s Star Wars, later subtitled, Episode IV: A New Hope), he was still deeply involved behind the scenes, a shadow auteur of the highest order.
The movies had become an enterprise, after all - his enterprise but either way, burnt out and exhausted, he saw to it that the defining era of Star Wars concluded with a relatively happy ending.
The Empire was toppled (quite literally, down the reactor shaft) and Darth Vader, at the cost of his life, was redeemed as Anakin Skywalker.
Luke, Leia, Lando and Han all made it out unscathed (to Harrison Ford’s noted frustration - which rather famously, wouldn’t last).
And up next?
Well, actually… that was it.
The franchise would continue to expand over the years, sure, with addendums of additional media, from comic books, novels and half-baked television ventures. But more movies?
It seemed unlikely.
But in the mid-to-late-90s, Lucas, seemingly invigorated by technological advancements made over the following decade-plus, began making plans to return to his galaxy, far, far away.
In 1997, the original trilogy was re-released in theatres with various changes and CGI-focused additions, a proving ground, it later became clear, to what was coming next: The Prequel Trilogy.
The story before the story, you know?
Building off the backstory that was only really hinted at in the original films, you really can’t argue with the back-of-the-box set-up.
How did Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi Knight once prophesied as “The Chosen One” fall, to become the galaxy-wide terror known as Darth Vader, the greatest villain movies had ever seen?
I can only imagine what it was like, in the moment: the sheer hype leading up to these films, in the pre “ubiquitous Internet” age.
The build-up to 1999’s The Phantom Menace in particular was so massive, so significant, it ultimately inspired its own movie.
Even after almost two decades, Star Wars had yet to relinquish its cultural hold and now, here it was, returning in full… um, Force, the first new movie in sixteen years.
And yet.
Oh, buddy.
The reality is, these movies were never going to meet the exceptions of those who grew up alongside the cultural, medium-altering phenomenon that was the original trilogy.
And their initial reception, one of relatively mixed indifference, verging on outright hostility, towards Lucas and the actors both, reflected that.
That stance has softened in recent years, those that grew-up with these movies, that know the prequels as “their” Star Wars, able to take them in stride with far more ease.
And yeah, if you didn’t like them then (or now), if something simply doesn’t click on a narrative or creative level? I probably can’t do much to change those feelings.
There is something to be said though, despite all the noted criticisms against them, about what does work.
Generally, franchise movies today are made by highly-curated, focus-group committee, which can often be to their deterrent - but the prequels? They are the byproduct of one dude’s grand, if totally out-there vision. An imperfect collage.
My baseline? It isn’t some unreachable goal - entertaining Star Wars, is more often than not, at least for me, good Star Wars.
Most of the time? The prequels are, if nothing else, remarkably entertaining, even in a laughing-alongside-them-way: the entire online communities that have sprung up around them, y’know, with the memes, speak to that.
But in returning to them for this project, I was reminded at how often they seem openly hostile at being enjoyed via that premise alone (and therefore, are a particularly difficult entry point for the chronologically-minded viewer - Episode I, most notably).
Famously, Lucas had the help of various collaborators to help him shape and refine the original films, even if his voice carried the most weight.
A decade-plus later, however, his voice was seemingly the only one.
No longer needing to answer to studio or practical financial limitations, he was free to engage in both his best and worst filmmaking impulses. The end result?
A widely uneven, frustrating and difficult trilogy of films - the highs, primarily in Revenge of the Sith, continually weighed down elsewhere by poor creative decisions across the board.
Across all three movies however are characters, realized and emboldened terrifically well, primarily by their performers.
Liam Neeson, as Qui-Gon Jinn in Episode I? He gives the movie’s best performance in what would be limited work. A Jedi content to follow his own path, wherever it takes him. Neeson brings an air of great mysticism to his portrayal, Qui-Gon, a guy that is totally cool meditating mid-fight and unafraid to push back against his protégée’s more by-the-book mindset.
Yeah, admittedly, although his young Ob-Wan Kenobi isn’t given all that much to do in Episode I, you can tell Ewan McGregor was onto something.
Come Episode II, he finds a grove, wiser and calmer but still struggling to come to terms with being a mentor himself.
McGregor, bringing a balance to the character that would’ve been impossible at a glance.
There was no way around it: Alec Guinness, who originated the role in A New Hope (and cameoed in its two sequels) was Obi-Wan for a generation (despite, amusingly in that context, his well known irritation at being remembered so highly for his role in Star Wars, considering it nothing but “fairy tale rubbish”).
How could another actor compete with that?
But McGregor melds his Ob-Wan with shades of Guinness to an absolute tee, right down to the mannerisms, delivery and accent work on particular lines.
He brings a gravitas, in Revenge specifically, that is simply outstanding (and something he would further showcase in 2022’s self-titled miniseries, Obi-Wan Kenobi).
When it comes to Anakin Skywalker? Things become a little murkier.
Jake Lloyd never once deserved all the unnecessary hate he got for his performance, playing a young Anakin in Episode I but taken on its own, he did just fine.1
Hayden Christensen, brought on in Episode II onwards to play an older Anakin, didn’t fare much better in the public eye either, being highly criticized at the time for an apparent sense of disinterest and lack of ability.
Yet Christensen proved, even then and has continued to do so (both in other projects and his return to the Star Wars franchise in recent years) that such complaints were always overblown.
With the right material, he is a great actor, outside perception be dammed, as he tactfully acknowledged this past February:
Because Star Wars has had the cultural impact that it has, these characters almost become public domain, where people feel a sense of ownership over them. The character was criticized, my performance was criticized, and that part sucked. [In a way] that sort of criticism, I think, comes from a certain failure of their own suspension of disbelief. If you’re gonna go sit in a theatre, and the opening scroll starts with, ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,’ that’s setting the stage that anything is possible.
By the third film? He finds his rhythm, his Anakin, tortured, desperately, tragically in love and hurtling towards inevitability. When given the opportunity, Christensen nails these moments, as does Natalie Portman as Anakin’s doomed love-interest, Padmé Amidala.
Across the trilogy, Portman isn’t given too much material to work with, Padmé, a character that only receives, unfortunately, minimal spotlight in the grand scheme of things (there to further Anakin’s story, not so much her own) but Portman makes the best of it. She imbues Padmé, with confidence and earnestness both, a politician wise beyond her years who acts as a great foil to Christensen’s more conflicted, angsty portrayal.
Elsewhere?
Christopher Lee cuts an imposing presence as Count Dooku and Ian McDiarmid, returning from the original trilogy, plays the conniving Sheev Palpatine - eventually revealed to be the Sith Lord, Darth Sidious/“The Emperor”.
He brings faux-charm and a just-under-the-surface-menace that is simply oozing with Adam West-esque camp, in the best of ways. It is a performance that is great to watch unfold - more so, when you realize that it was something that just… worked out.
McDiarmid was only 39 when he originally debuted as the character in Return of the Jedi, albeit, masked under makeup and literal menace. It allowed him to return as a middle-aged version of the character in the prequels years later without much hassle (and eventually, 2019’s Rise of Skywalker, too).
There isn’t much to Frank Oz’s return as Yoda outside of supposedly wise platitudes nor Samuel L. Jackson’s turn as Jedi Mace Windu - Jackson’s signature charisma, rarely coming through, despite his best efforts (if nothing else, we have him to thank for purple lightsabers).
Because it becomes pretty clear very early on that Lucas really wanted to make these movies, not to complete his story necessarily but to push the technological limits of what the filmmaking of the period could achieve.
And when it works? It is still impressive, a quarter-century later.
Compared to the originals, there is a far-more increased focus on the technical side of things. an adherence to practical effects included, although not to the same level. Engagement, being the operating word with the action sequences and lightsaber battles in particular being crisper, cleaner and bombastic.
Fully CGI-created environments, from the underwater city in Episode I to the spectacle of Coruscant are fully realized. CG-characters and motion-capture work are utilized extensively too, at a time when such prospects were still something of an industry novelty.
You wouldn’t bat an eye today. The bar was set.
Even if it didn’t always land nor hold up too well? You can’t help but respect the craftsmanship on a base level (this is very much a personal gripe but Yoda using a lightsaber in any capacity is just total nonsense and I won’t hear otherwise - just because it could be done, doesn’t mean it should have been).
Antagonist Darth Maul hardly has any dialogue in Episode I but as a visual presence alone? He steals every scene he’s in.
And immediately derided through he was, both as a character and for the racial stereotypes he invoked for some, Jar Jar Binks was (and remains) impressive on those technical merits alone.2
There is an effectiveness that comes through as well, by way of the straightforwardness granted through the narrative and characters both - even if you only had a slight familiarity with this whole Star Wars business, the marketing for Episode I, right from the beginning, knew what was up.
These movies, Star Wars altogether, it never was or never has been “high art” but there was a certain maturity - it brings with it, a feeling of melancholy that doesn’t always land but when it does, it lands with impact.
I’ll say this. For all the flack the prequels received and still do, years later, to dismiss them so quickly is to miss the strengths they bring to the table.
When the story, performances and everything else come together at once? It is some pretty darn good moviemaking. Try as you might, there is no disputing that.
But the things that don’t work?
You can appreciate the fact that Lucas had a singular vision but his execution, ultimately, is mixed at best and nigh indefensible at worst.
He may be a legend, rightfully so and a fantastic world-builder but that alone, a good movie (or trilogy, in this case) does not make.
The moment-to-moment character work is lacking, the overarching narrative threads are cluttered and the dialogue, without additional input, too often comes across as silted and unnatural (as iconic, in a campy way, as it has become).
You can too often see the seams, the whole thing, threatening to topple like a house of cards. I get the impression though, that Lucas knew this. Aware he was biting off more than he could chew, returning to this world after so much time away and needing to deliver on storytelling aspects that were never in his wheelhouse to begin with.
Yet, once he committed, he was going to see it through, for better or worse - plausible, considering that Ron Howard once revealed he was considered for the director’s chair (Howard, of course, would eventually direct 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story):
He didn’t necessarily want to direct them. He told me he had talked to Robert Zemeckis, Steven Spielberg, and me. I was the third one he spoke to. [They] all said the same thing: ‘George, you should do it.’ I don’t think anybody wanted to follow-up that act at the time. It was an honor, but it would’ve been too daunting
So Lucas pushed through.
Hindered though he was by his own instincts and an inability to bring a greater focus to characters and plot-lines that would have, otherwise, benefited from it greatly.
Upon rewatching the trilogy, in Episodes I and II specifically, you can’t help but notice these shortcomings. Not so much in the drier aspects like the midichlorians, trade routes or political scheming, which, yes, are tedious but eventually become background noise - no instead, it is how the larger narrative unfolds.
Would things have played out differently, had Christensen been cast from the get-go? A teenage Anakin in Episode I, thereby being richer in depth and character, right from the beginning?
Because you can’t help but wonder, overall, what the motivation was, starting Anakin’s journey as a young child.
In practical terms, he isn’t all that involved in the overall crux of Episode I. That movie is Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and to a lesser extent, Padmé’s story. Anakin then is just … a kid, brought along, from one story beat to the next. And that’s fine, if you’re treating it as a singular instalment.
Maybe it could’ve worked.
But the whole catch of the trilogy is witnessing his eventual downfall, right? Something that just isn’t communicated whatsoever in Phantom Menace, outside of the Jedi Council’s initial refusal to train him.
Poor Anakin, man! He just misses his mom, enjoys pod-racing and likes building droids. It isn’t on Jake Lloyd, who brings a genuine enthusiasm but there just isn’t anything of substance, from a story-telling perspective, either.
It means though, that come Episode II, Anakin is now a man. Struggling with inner turmoil, commitment to the Jedi Code and his own inherent darkness. Between films? There is absolutely no correlation, creating an unavoidable disconnect.
Like, who even is this dude?
The same goes, as well, for Anakin and Padmé’s love story, the tragic undercurrent of the whole trilogy. Trying to set-up that story in Episode I though, does not work, at all, to any reasonable degree (more so given the age-gap between the characters and actors both).
It is a critical mistake that greatly diminishes any potential growth in the sequel, as given the serialized, episodic nature of the whole operation, Christensen and Portman are basically starting from scratch.
When given the chance, they do manage to hit those flirtatious-young-people falling in love notes very well (supposedly, Lucas, recognizing the shortcomings of his own dialogue, permitted them to improvise at various times, creating a far greater sense of lived-in banter).
It finally, completely clicks in Episode III (assisted by the time-skip between movies) but it is, as a whole, too little too late.
Such a dilemma is a recurring problem across the trilogy, with each film only taking place over a short period of time.
There is, simply, no room for any one relationship or storyline to breathe: this includes the Obi-Wan/Anakin relationship which you can buy, at face value, as it is sold well but never explored, fully, the way it could have been, movie-to-movie - years of brotherhood, almost waved away.
And yet, when it finally arrives in III? What three whole films have been working towards?
Anakin’s turn to the Dark Side is given enough practical weight sure (determined to prevent his haunting visions of Padmé dying in childbirth from coming true) but only minimal build-up in the movie alone, that from scene-to-scene, is riddled with tonal whiplash: internal conflict, quickly replaced with unchecked, rage-soaked power.
This was the big thing!
Christensen sells it and McGregor, Obi-Wan’s heartbreak but it can’t help but feel… perfunctory in the worst of ways, as everyone races towards the end, trying to tie off loose ends.
Despite it all, I do enjoy the prequels.
Every time I go back to them, I find new elements to appreciate.
Maybe it is a generational thing. I was too young to see them in theatres, so I could only take them, years later, on their own, at my own terms. And I can get behind, on some levels, what Lucas was trying to accomplish.
Rewatching these movies though, is realizing what they lacked: connective tissue, deeper character work. A further examination on Anakin’s fall and the factors that led to it. A greater sense of the universe, not so bogged down in pseudo-political jargon.
All of which, The Clone Wars TV series provided in spades.
Created by Lucas (the final Star Wars project he would be directly involved in) and overseen by collaborator Dave Filoni, the series bridges the three-year gap between Episodes II and III to such great effect, it brings a retroactive depth to the prequels that is to be commended.
It remains, even sixteen years after its debut, some of the best work in the Star Wars franchise. Hands down.
And next time, in Part II of this series, we’ll take a closer look.
Until then.
For a long-time, the angle you would find pushed online was that Jake Lloyd stepped away from acting after The Phantom Menace’s less-than-stellar critical reception. Lloyd’s mother, however, recently speaking to the media, refuted that claim, stating that her son has long struggled with his mental health, amid a schizophrenia diagnosis. He is, per her statement, getting treatment, doing well and remains a Star Wars fan.