Are you hurt?" e-mailed a friend in mockery of the Saturday-serial dialogue style in Star Wars: Episode II Attack of the Clones. "Are you blind?" I e-mailed back. For the latest entry in George Lucas' transgalactic saga of the moral rise and fall of Anakin Skywalker and the deterioration of democracy into despotism has an electric visual majesty and boasts Lucas' best direction since American Graffiti.
All the talk about Lucas as an empire-builder clouds perceptions of him as an artist. But as that Jedi guru Yoda would say, an artist is he. Lucas tests the boundaries of the picture frame, fills it to breaking point with bulging action and scintillating detail-work and then moves from one frame to another with a steady, plangent pull.
This movie isn't mechanical; it's voluptuous. In a single chase through the city planet of Coruscant, Lucas encapsulates all of Blade Runner; in a single pitched battle on the arid planet of Geonosis, he sums up the delirious appeal of stop-motion creature master Ray Harryhausen. And with the help of cowriter Jonathan Hales and composer John Williams, he taps an emotionalism that fuses the eclectic ingredients of the Star Wars saga, from the pioneer-clan feelings of John Ford Westerns to the dystopian dread of Lucas' debut feature, THX 1138 (1971).
