I might as well start by admitting that I thought Episodes I & II were bunk. Lots of eye candy, but virtually none of the epic, archetypal storytelling that made the original trilogy such a bastion of popular culture. After viewing Episode I, I began to suspect that George Lucas had become like the Emperor—so powerful that everyone around him was afraid to tell him his script was in need of serious medical attention. After watching Episode II, I became certain of that fact. But then I saw the trailer for Episode III.
“Hey,” I thought, “This doesn’t look too bad.” And look at all those familiar faces: Darth Vader, Chewbacca, C-3PO, the Emperor, R2-D2…. Immediately, I began to hope against hope that I was right.
Why such irrational behavior on the part of an otherwise rational 34-year-old? The unfortunate thing about most guys my age is; the mythical world of Star Wars was so central to the development of our youthful imaginations that we simply cannot resist every new Star Wars product that comes along. Each time, we hope for yet another visit to that marvelous place of unbridled childhood splendor, and each time we return disappointed and empty. Nevertheless, we keep coming back for more, again, and again, and again.
It’s not entirely Lucas’s fault. What we’re asking for goes far beyond what any film, novel or comic book could offer. We’re like the uncle on Napoleon Dynamite: Only a time machine could truly soothe our pain. But then again, like Napoleon’s uncle, we’re so messed up that a time machine would probably just make things worse. As William Shatner said to his fans in the documentary Trekkies, maybe we should all just “get a life.” Stop clinging to the past. Move on. Get over it. But somehow I can’t. I’m still trying to figure out why that is, but that is a side issue.
My real point is, with millions of fans like me addicted to a pre-pubescent fantasy world brought to us courtesy of Industrial Light & Magic, Lucas can stamp the Star Wars logo on pretty much anything and know he is going to make gazillions of dollars, even if the product isn’t any good. Collectors alone will snap up enough copies for him to turn a profit—just in case they might be worth something one day. Not that I’m accusing Lucas of such villainy. I choose to believe that he loves Star Wars more than anyone else. The fact that the previous two films were painfully mediocre, hyper-merchandised duds is less a symptom that he is taking advantage of our addiction and more a sign that even the greatest among us are not immune to the temptations of the Dark Side.
But back to the comic book adaptation: As far as Star Wars collectibles go, this is a good one. By that I mean it doesn’t reek of something that was created solely to take advantage of Jedi-obsessed fans. Star Wars has been adapted into comic book form from the beginning, even before the days when Star Wars merchandise became almost as lucrative as the films. So this qualifies as a legitimate product in my books.
In terms of production values, this book also rates fairly high. It’s a fast, exciting read with plenty of gripping scenes, especially those that depict Anakin Skywalker once he finally crosses over to the Dark Side. Personally, I prefer a more abstract form of artwork—along the lines of Bill Sienkiewicz, Ralph Steadman or Ben Templesmith. But Doug Wheatley’s traditional art and Christopher Chuckry’s saturated colors definitely make this book accessible to a wider, younger audience, which is probably the primary market for a book like this.
Now to the most important component: story. I don’t want to give away too much here, but I will say this: Surprise, surprise, I do not think my hopes for Episode III were in vain. Based on what I’ve seen in this book, Revenge of the Sith could be the most complex, subtle Star Wars film ever made. Coming from me, that’s saying a lot.
Star Wars has always functioned within a fairly simple moralistic dualism. There are two sides to the Force: one good, one bad. Choosing the good side requires you to become somewhat of a Buddhist, denying anger and other negative impulses—indeed, denying reality itself—and learning to view the world through the eyes of the Force. Only when Luke Skywalker is able to do this can he finally attain the rank of Jedi and overcome the Empire. What makes Luke’s journey so difficult is the constant temptation of the Dark Side. Where Yoda preaches patience; the Dark Side offers immediate gratification. Where the way of the Jedi offers inner peace, self-discipline, and self-sacrifice; the Dark side seduces with the promise of unbridled passion, power, and control.
These same temptations dog young Anakin throughout Episode III. As with Luke, Anakin’s soul becomes a virtual battleground upon which the fate of the entire universe will be decided. The difference here is that the line between good and evil is not nearly so clear. In the first trilogy, it was pretty obvious who the villain was: the big, heavy-breathing guy in the black mask. But in Revenge of the Sith, Anakin is confronted with two groups—the Jedi and the Sith Lords—both of whom claim to have only the best interests of the Republic in mind. The problem is, their visions of the higher good are diametrically opposed. How is Anakin to choose? To make matters worse, Anakin comes to suspect that both groups are merely using him to fulfill their agenda. Needless to say, when Anakin does choose a side, he is transformed into one of the greatest movie villains of all time. But even while some of the darkest forces in the universe are unleashed, a sliver of hope appears—a new hope, as it were—a child.
As I read this final page, I was also filled with a new hope: Hope that George Lucas has finally regained the straight and narrow way; hope that he has finally given his fans what they’ve been longing for; and hope that now the Star Wars series has run its course, I can finally get on with the rest of my life.
