Revenge of the Sith, reviewed.

So, I went to go see Revenge of the Sith last night. And I'm afraid I annoyed the people around me by laughing helplessly at about half of the dialogue. I tried not to, people, I did. But.

Gina Barreca's feminist analysis (mildly spoilery) was spot-on, and I thought the whole thing, while far better than the previous two movies, was pretty painful. It's too bad there's no "mute" option in movie theatres, because that would have rocked; the film's visually stunning.

(Except that still wouldn't have stopped me going OMGWTF who sleeps in a nightgown that has large metal pieces and huge round beads all over it? (a) you would strangle on those straps and (b) you would wake up with horrid little bead-imprints and jewelry-marks all over you, and some of them would bruise. OW.)

So I'm talking to my partner after, trying to figure out if I would have disliked the original trilogy like this if I'd seen it for the first time now, in my thirties. And you know, I'm a late media bloomer - I think I saw the original trilogy for the first time on my 21st birthday anyway, so it's not like I grew up on it. And I still don't think so.

For one thing, I like happy endings. And the original trilogy is about an emergence from darkness into light, whereas the prequels move in the opposite direction. And for another, while both trilogies revolve around the development of a whiny adolescent, the original trilogy has Han. The original hotass rebel Bad Boy With A Heart Of Gold. And Leia, who fires guns and snarks! And I like all the secondary characters better.

Sometimes I think the invention of the "talkies" was a sad, sad thing. Revenge of the Sith would have been a much better film with a guy up front underneath the screen banging out "da-DA-dadadaDAda! danadaDAda, danadaNA..." on a piano or organ or whatever they used to use. Yis.