Blogged on my Handspring on Friday night:
I'm sitting in the historic Senator Theater here in Baltimore, with my sons waiting for the start of Episode II. Kevin & Jonah are engaged in a vigorous debate with a kid in the row in front of us over the relative merits of Super Smash Brothers on Nintendo 64 and Super Smash Brothers Melee on GameCube, as well as the quality of the stories of the N64 “Zelda” games.
Natalie Portman in something as close to the slave girl outfit Carrie Fisher had to wear for “Return of the Jedi” as possible.
Given that George Lucas is making these movies as wholesome as possible for the preteen toy-demanding set (aside from all the computer-generated violence crammed into them), it's doubtful that they'll ever see something like that again, or anything more passionate than light kissing and low-grade sexual tension in the final installment.
But my kids don't care. My 8-year old closed his eyes through the few kissing scenes. And my 11-year old was more concerned about the fate of Jango Fett, the bounty hunter–whom he considered the most interesting character in the movie. (Frankly, I did too, and found myself rooting for him against Ewan McGregor's Obi-wan).
So the movie works for its real intended audience–kids who can't get into a PG-13 movie on their own. It's the most expensive sci-fi serial adventure series of all time, 40 years after the genre's prime. Like Lucas says, “It's just a movie.” If you want some real exploration of psychology, go see a Sam Raimi movie–like