Revenge of the Shit

Okay, so why should we all give George Lucas the benefit of the doubt and expect Episode III The Revenge of the Sith not to suck? Why should we expect that he’ll rediscover the magic which he seemed to have in limitless supply when he made the first three movies of the Star Wars franchise? Why should we all give a rat’s ass about the new movie when Episode I The Phantom Menace and Episode II Attack of the Clones were such cinematic abominations that I took the disappointment on a very personal level – it felt to me like George Lucas trespassed into our yard and took two huge dumps right there by the rose bed. So now there is the man again loitering in our yard, dare I anticipate that gold nuggets will come out of his asshole this time?

Well, the best thing I can say about Episode III is that it is at least watchable. Lucas starts with an exciting sequence on the rescue of Senator Palpatine from the Jedi-slayer, General Grievous by the protagonists Obi Wan…oh well, you know the rest. There are other action-filled sequences which follow with enough amazing CGI effects to make your head shake in wonder.

On the whole, however, Lucas’ major weaknesses still stand out: he’s always been a shitty writer and director. This fucks up the movie in the worst way possible because Lucas is after all the sole writer and director. Jesus, it’s almost been thirty years already and he still can’t write decent dialogue. More than anything, Lucas’ characters have the uncanny ability to overstate the obvious. For example, there’s a scene where Obi Wan falls and manages to catch himself with both hands on a cliff. What does Lucas have Anakin say to him? “Hold on!” Right. At that point my own dialogue was, “I am watching a stupid movie.” Oh, and all the schmaltzy cheeseball interaction between Anakin and Padme, man, their scenes together were as hard to watch as Marlon Brando slaughtering that carabao with a machete in Apocalypse Now.

Lucas can’t also seem to get his bearings straight as a director either. Let me qualify that. Lucas’ direction goes to the crapper when he has to direct real, live, flesh and blood actors. CGI actors? No problem! These fuckers don’t have to make sense when they talk but a person with feelings and emotion, well, Lucas just directs them to emote and act like CGI characters too. As a result, you get Hayden Christensen talking in the same monotone – regardless if he’s expressing his rage for and to Obi Wan or together with Padme in those cringe-inducing moments when they were sorting out who loves each other more.

I reserve my harshest judgement for Ian McDiarmid (Sen. Palpatine/Darth Sidious) though. Holy fucking shit, I thought that Boyet de Leon was the biggest ham in the world but this McDiarmid guy swallows our very own Dr. Zombie whole and still have plenty of space leftover for William Shatner. This guy chews scenery like those novelty chattering teeth hocked up on crack.

So the Star Wars franchise ends with Episode III – nuggets of gold or a pile of shit? I would say neither. This time, it feels like dry clumps of shit which can be easily swept away by a broom.

I was all around Makati last week looking for a place to rent. I gave up the place I was renting when I left last year and have actually been going home to our house which is a bitch-ass distance from the office. I guess the more than one hour commute has finally worn me down. I had to ride the MRT on the days I couldn’t bring my car – Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday – and the novelty of experiencing firsthand the human condition first hand has completely dissipated. Jesus, how many times can I get poked by a hand-bag or felt-up by a faggot?

I decided on this condo unit just a spitting distance away from Ayala Avenue which is where my office is at. It’s a pretty small room – sigh, my days of the five-way orgy are effectively ended once I move in – just about 27 sq. meters. But fucking shit, it’s expensive as hell because of its proximity to, well, everywhere. I can now actually see what’s on at the Greenbelt movie theatres from my one and only window. I can now get a whiff of what’s cooking at Greenbelt’s restaurant row. I just hope that the all that racket from the Friday night parties at Temple won’t keep me the hell up. Get this, even if I wake up at freaking eight in the morning, I can still haul ass and be at my desk right on time at eight thirty. Isn’t that cool? But as I said, all of this will come at a sizable price. I thought long and hard if I could actually pay up such an amount on a monthly basis but then I thought, fuck it, you only live once right? And better to live in a high-rise condo unit while you’re at it.