Lightsabers Never Get Old
That’s the one thing I can really say for this movie. I loved the sheer volume of lightsaber action when I was fifteen, and I still love that about it. Unfortunately not even laser swords could make me excited to rewatch this film. This certainly remains the most watchable prequel (well, aside from Episode I, perhaps), but it’s the shadowy form of a Greek tragedy with all the content and good sense vacuumed out.
Sure, there are a few redeeming qualities. Ewan McGregor really comes into his own as Obi-Wan, and Ian McDiarmid is hilarious. And the lightsabers. But yeah, that’s pretty much it.
Padme’s character, in particular, is eviscerated, which is a shame not just for her but for the movie. She was ideally positioned to represent a moral third choice against the detachment of the Jedi and the selfish passion of the Sith - a third choice the saga sorely needs. Instead, she has basically no perspective or character.
The moral universe of Revenge of the Sith is actually more interesting than the film itself. In a way, it exemplifies the problem of people trapped in different tribal bubbles, with alternative frameworks for interpreting what is truth. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s falling out is, in its most interesting form, a political one. Anakin casts himself as the loyal patriot, unable to let go of control; the Jedi are likewise stuck, ossified and blind in their dogma.
Palpatine in particular seems resonant - his line that the Sith and the Jedi are almost exactly alike eerily echoes the rhetoric of ‘both-siders’ who equivocate between political factions based on the appearance of similar actions without regard for what cause those actions serve. This nihilistic axiom - that power is just power, without moral content, is the central lie that fascism uses to promise otherwise decent people a shortcut to whatever it is they want most. Palpatine’s seduction of Anakin, then, is also political, even if the object is personal. He even uses conspiracy theories to help Anakin justify the choice he already wants to make.
The lie of the Sith is also the lie of idolatry. Plagueis, we are told, could save those he loved from dying. This desire to save and to love is clearly good, but when seized through evil means, love of good is twisted into sin.
The problem is that the Jedi are a moral vacuum, and we are left with selfish nihilism set against impotent decadence and stagnation. This is why the story desperately needs a moral alternative, and Padme was the obvious character to introduce it - if she had been given anything to do.
