A Scientist at the Movies Reviews by Greg Paris

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Title: Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones

Date Viewed: 5/19/02

Details:

Ewan McGregor (Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Natalie Portman (Senator Padme Amidala)

Hayden Christensen (Anakin Skywalker)

Ian McDiarmid (Supreme Chancellor Palpatin)

Samuel L. Jackson (Mace Windu)

Pernilla August (Shmi Skywalker)

Christopher Lee (Count Dooku)

Anthony Daniels (C-3PO)

Frank Oz (Yoda)

Kenny Baker (R2-D2)

Ahmed Best (Jar Jar Binks)

Jimmy Smits (Senator Bail Organa)

Temuera Morrison (Jango Fett)

Written, produced & directed by George Lucas

Score: +1/2

The Review: (original draft review, 1st viewing)

George Lucas was right: digital projection is "the" way to see this movie (more below).

Released so soon on the heels of another heavily digitally produced adventure (Spiderman), this production -- especially in digital form -- as much outshines its competition as a nova dims a standard sequence G sun. OK, this is hyperbole, but you understand; it's that much better. Good story, excellent cinematography and effects, good production.

Lucas has the plotting advantage of "filling in the middle" between a well known arc of episodes 4-6 and the more recent episode 1. As viewers, we share the advantage of knowing the "punch line" of this (chronologically) later arc, and we can enjoy the intermediate character and plot development while savoring the irony, nuance or hubris of a character's actions. This is one of the more unusual aspects of the creation and release sequence of the Star Wars saga to date: knowing the middle, while watching the beginning thread its way out, means that we appreciate being distracted by the incredibly lush texture of the embedding worlds.

Portman as Amidala is luminous, compelling, attractive, and vital. She's drawn softer than was Leia but with no less attitude, and Amidala is obviously both more capable and more mature, for all that she's younger than the Leia of episode 4. Portman is the center of this film, and has grown remarkably into this role since episode 1. The same cannot be said of Christensen as Anakin, in part because of the obvious reason of a differently cast actor, and in part because his role as an adolescent, maturing under the stifling tutelage of Jedi Master Obi-Wan (McGregor), would seem to be purposely designed to be more erratic and unstable. And in that respect, this snapshot of Anakin's character is done well; he's simply not as likeable an individual as one might like in a lead role. But there is no cognitive dissonance here -- Anakin is supposed to be growing into Lord Vader, so our (precognitive) viewers' perspective on the characters' future colors our current perception.

In one sense, the frenetic pace of episode 1 has been slowed down here, giving us a better chance to observe without the rapid, numbing and stumbling introduction of multiple new worlds, new ecosystems, new characters, new societies, new themes, familiar characters in new bodies, etc. Granted, there's a lot that is new in this current episode, but the grating unfamiliarity and the "if it's Tuesday it must be Belgium" high-speed tourist air of episode 1 have (thankfully) been left behind, and those features which are indeed novel to this episode are not brought on at breakneck rates. In many other senses, however, the pacing is tighter and builds to a satisfying climatic frenzy. And the production model this time is definitely not Ben-Hur!

Some of the plot details were a bit hard to follow, but probably because I was trying to think about them too much. And some of the images are going to be psychologically grating to those who grew up with Star Wars episodes 4 through 6. For example, it never occurred to me to ask: what was the genesis of the Empire's storm-troopers? And the answer (provided in this movie) is a bit of a surprise, especially when one sees them in service for the first time, on what might be construed as the wrong side of the conflict. Now that's confusing!

World-building: Lucas has the advantage of a very long gestation period, having developed the Star Wars series with four complete previous entries spread over 25 years of advances in computers and cinematography. He can leverage the growing library of worlds he has created in the previous episodes, and continue to develop new details, adding layer upon layer to past work; or he can not-so-subtly correct some of the "problems" of earlier worlds (as he has done with Tatooine and some of its primitive SFX from episode 4). This encourages the gradual and incremental augmentation of the texture of each world, across the arc of the entire series. Few other film-makers have given themselves this opportunity -- one that is quite common in the printed novel form -- and Lucas works this advantage for all it's worth. Each background and back-story has become all the richer for this experience, and we can choose to notice this or not. I choose to, because that's what I'm interested in: experimental world-building and society-creation.

Some critics will complain that Lucas is getting mired in the details of digitally-generated scenery -- "if he can do it, he does, whether or not it fits the story" -- and complain that the story itself is getting lost. I disagree. First, this is neither Jane Austen nor Leo Tolstoy; I neither expect nor require finely tuned novelistic nuances in a sci-fi action adventure genre. On those rare occasions where they exist, work, and can be appreciated, so be it: that's a craftsman at work, but it's too much to ask for this to happen very often. Second, I am quite satisfied that he is building upon libraries of past work, because this makes each new work all that more interesting for repeated viewing. This is why we consciously choose to return to a fictional universe multiple times: for familiarity and for richness of continued development. Imagine, for example, each of the following with only one episode: the Foundation universe, Brin's Uplift universe, Chalker's Well World, Card's Ender and Alvin universes, or even Zelazny's Amber alternate reality. I find this rich, layered texture addictive: I don't own a copy of Episode 1: Phantom Menace, but I can foresee buying a copy of this episode as soon as it's available.

Creature-building: Two new worlds mean at least two new ecosystems to explore, creatively. (Goody, goody!) And this time, there is one light (although obscured in storms), and one dark (although lit by glaring low-angle sun). I find the meercat-tall humanoid aliens of Kamino reminiscent of the creatures in the 3rd segment of Spielberg's A.I., crossed with some of the greys from Carter's X-Files, and the visitors of Spielberg's Close Encounters -- and oddly attractive for all that, especially when you throw in their weird and sinuous gait. As one might expect, the flying insectoid natives of Geonosis are less attractive, but an interesting design problem.

Cinematography: Some of the scenery corresponding to Naboo was filmed on the shores of Italy's Lake Como -- a truly spectacular background, and quite appropriate to a romantic entanglement. For this and other (background) scenery, the digital medium seems to provide substantial and beneficial creative flexibility. For close-ups and emotional impact, however, the digital medium would seem to be even more difficult for the cast: much more revealing and less forgiving.

SFX: Progress in animation has been superb and noticeable from film to film in this series: I particularly like the gleaming silver metallic sheen on the Naboo spacecraft, flashing in multiple light sources, behaving exactly like the metal it is supposed to be. Well, actually, it is a bit more than "faithful" to a non-tarnish specular surface than most real, non-oxidized metallic surfaces; irrespective, the effect has improved since its advent in episode 1. This finish seems to be a signature theme of Naboo-designed craft, and is not common in the worlds Lucas is creating. It is certainly a contrast with that of the grubby Millennium Falcon, making the latter seem even more like the dilapidated rust-bucket it was intended to be.

And the opening scene: the atmospheric effects as the ship is descending through a particularly hazy and/or cloudy Coruscant sky -- moody, and quite effective. As one friend said, they must have had a new cloud algorithm and wanted to play with it.

Score: John Williams in formula mode. Nothing exceptional this time, except in his pseudo-Wagnerian design and execution of multiple overlapping leitmotifs. Occasionally they work.

Digital image and digital projection? Impressive and amazing -- truly amazing! This was my first time, and one always remembers one's first time. It happens that one of the two DLP-compatible theatres in NJ is relatively close to me, so the experiment was worth doing. (The most common system is from the vendor collaboration Technicolor / QualComm; check this website list for the digital theatre nearest you.)

It's hard to sort out the difference between the underlying digital image and the effect of the projection. General image quality was bright, saturated and of deliciously high contrast; having seen home-theatre video projection systems grow up, these three features have always been grossly lacking. In the theatre, there's no projector noise, certainly -- although the crowd noise generally moots this point -- and no degradation of the image quality with successive showings -- but since I attended near the beginning of the movie's run this was not what struck me. The most visible effect is the rock-solid visual stability. Someone sitting next to me in the theatre compared DLP to celluloid in the same way as one would compare video reproduction from DVD versus VHS tape: crystal clarity, and steadiness. It's hard to convey the consequences of not having any projector or film quiver, no jitter or weave, no minor wobbles in the image -- we're so used to it, we don't pay it much attention (especially in an action film), but it really does affect the image quality in subtle ways. Without subtle and continuous jitter, all the details become visible and persistent. I noticed it especially on the extreme facial close-ups of both Anakin and Amidala: you can see pores, skin texture, individual hairs, minor twitches in facial muscles -- you can almost feel her skin, and that perception is quite seductive. It's incredibly revealing of the actors/actresses, and more credit is due to them when performing under such millipore scrutiny. (But then, a carefully projected and well-focused Garbo film -- Queen Christina or Lubitsch's Ninotchka -- would have a similar effect.) One reason for this image is the quality and detail of the medium, but an unappreciated reason is the special attention being given to the setup and alignment of digital theatres. These theatres are still unusual enough and sufficiently rare that technicians lavish their attention keeping the systems working properly. This is in contrast to the normal film projector systems in your neighborhood giga-plex: no matter how sophisticated the sound system, the image requires a precisely controlled arc source, and is projected through a rapidly moving mechanical system requiring exact shutter timing and precise focus -- something not always present when the projector is operated by marginally trained and seldom supervised personnel, sometimes part-time employees on summer jobs. A finely shot film image, carefully projected and focused, is a wonder to behold (witness Garbo and Lubitsch): it's a shame that such images are so seldom seen today, and that one has to compare the significant wonders of digital projection to the sloppy standards of today's projection systems and staff, instead of putting them to a more stringent test.

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