I had to take the car in for a check-up in the big city this week, so I took my holiday day off yesterday to do that -- and also, conveniently, it happened to be the opening day for Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith. (I felt quite like Ferris Bueller, "How can I be expected to tolerate school on a day like this?" Many agree with me; they're estimating that it will cost U.S. companies a whopping $627 million dollars in lost productivity as people skip work to see the final Star Wars film.) Anyway, I thought I'd share my thoughts of it here -- and I'm avoiding any major spoilers, so this should be safe to read if you haven't seen the film yet.

The hardest thing about it was having the kids babysat for about 12 hours while we drove to the nearest theatre to see the film. This Star Wars film, unlike all others in the saga, has been rated PG-13, and is not suitable for young children. George Lucas says he knows it's too intense for 5 and 6 year-olds, and the film's producer, Rick McCallum, says even he wouldn't let his children under 10 see it. (Having seen it, I definitely agree -- I joked with my wife that there are parts that I might have to fast-forward when watching on DVD just for my own sake, let alone the kids!) This aspect of the film -- its unsuitability for the whole family -- is my biggest... regret?... about the film. I say regret, because it's not really a criticism -- because indeed, the mature themes and ultimate tragedy of this film are what make it a more emotionally engaging film that either of the last two prequels... and perhaps all of the other Star Wars films.

I thought the film was fantastic. Having already read and enjoyed the screenplay and the novelization a few weeks ago, I was pretty excited to see the final film, and I was not disappointed. The effects are the best they have ever been, and yet this time, it all serves the plot -- which is much more character-driven, with very little time for extraneous characters or threads or show-boat effects sequences.

The film is definitely darker than any other Star Wars film. My wife said at one point, "at first, it didn't even seem like I was watching a Star Wars movie... it was so different," and I know what she means. Yes, it's still a Star Wars prequel -- when the battle droids early in the movie speak in funny voices and utter lines that make you groan, you'll definitely realize this is the same man who made The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones. The childish laughs in the first scenes quickly disolve, though, when Anakin kills an unarmed bad guy (no pun intended) in cold blood, and you realize that his turn to the "dark side" has already begun.

In other Star Wars films, you go in expecting a feel-good action adventure where you see some lightsaber battles and big explosions. Episode III tosses the feel-good part out the window, replacing it with searing tragedy -- and then cranks up the lightsaber battles to the final setting. It really is tragic -- all Anakin wants to do is save Padmé... he's just going about it all wrong! -- you spend the whole time wondering, "How can he do that? What is he thinking? Can't he see?" I have to admit that at several points during my viewing of the film -- and even my second viewing -- I found myself on the verge of tears. I didn't expect it to be so intense; I didn't think George had it in him.

It seems strange to say "this film was good." Can you really call a tragedy "good"...? It moved me. It saddened me. It was an emotional experience, and at times intense. If that's how you define "good," then it definitely was. But if you qualify that by asking more pointendly, "Was it a good Star Wars film," that's something I still have mixed feelings about. I've only seen it twice, but it seems to me that in the long-run, in the coming years when I own the DVDs of the entire saga, that when I go to put in a Star Wars movie, I'm probably going to be more likely to put in one of the other ones. It's not because I liked Revenge of the Sith any less than the other films, but because it is so sad, and dark, and depressing. In fact, in many ways, it is better than all of the other Star Wars films -- at first that sounds like heresy, I know! -- but it is a thought shared by a lot of folks on the biggest Star Wars fan site in this poll, which, at the time of this writing, ranks Revenge of the Sith as the #1 film of the entire saga.

Having read a lot of reviews of Revenge of the Sith, one of the ones I most identify with is a few comments made by Michael Rosenbaum (he plays Lex on Smallville) when he was invited to Skywalker Ranch for a screening of the film with other actors:

"I saw all these other actors just tear up while watching the film; it affected everyone. Everything about this movie from the music to the CGI to the actors to the story is just overwhelming. I'm just blown away by the whole thing. This was the best day of my life. My friends and I are speechless... I loved it because it was darker, action-packed and everything a Star Wars fan wants out of the final episode. It's so much more than I ever imagined. Right when the film finished I went from this overwhelming joy to this depression. I had to lie down.... all of a sudden this movie ends and I became incredibly sad because part of my childhood lives on with these films."

He hits the nail on the head there, when he says, "part of my childhood lives on with these films," and it ties back into that strange feeling of regret I mentioned earlier. On one hand, there's the strange numbness and denial that this thing so treasured from my childhood is "over," and on the other hand, there's the sadness I feel that I cannot right now fully share this last film with my own children, as they are only four and five years-old, and the themes would be too intense for them. (My son's favourite character is Mace Windu, and my daughter's is Padmé... this is not a happy movie for fans of those two characters in particular!)

So, somehow, I regret that it's all over, and I regret that I can't share it with my kids. When we were waiting in line for the film, some other young parents had their children there -- probably around 7 or 8 years-old -- and whole families were dressed up like their favourite Star Wars characters, entertaining the line-up with mock lightsaber battles. Wonderful! Star Wars has always been a fun experience, a shared, cultural experience -- something that crossed all social boundaries for an entire generation, be it gender, or racial, or religious boundaries. I just wish my children could have been old enough to experience this last Star Wars film in the theatre, with other people, and get that sense of a collective social bond that exists there. Goodness knows that such shared happy cultural experiences are growing fewer and further between in our modern world and religious views.