- Culture
- 22 May 02
Attack Of The Clones turns out to be almost as awful as its predecessor, with only the occasional lightsabre fight serving to deflect attention from the demented ridiculousness of the entire enterprise
If you need any further measure of how deeply disappointing 1999’s dreadful, long-awaited Phantom Menace truly was, consider the almost-total lack of hysterical expectation attached to this fifth instalment of the Star Wars phenomenon.
Sure, Attack Of The Clones is being as heavily marketed as you might expect, with a merchandising campaign of grotesque proportions to accompany it, but there’s just no real sense that vast swathes of the general public have been foaming at the mouth waiting to see the thing.
Worse still, several thousand die-hard Star Wars devotees have signed an Internet petition begging Lucas to surrender the franchise to Lord Of The Rings director Peter Jackson, on the very reasonable grounds that no-one on Earth should ever have to be subjected to Jar-Jar Binks again.
Attack Of The Clones turns out to be almost as awful as its predecessor, with only the occasional lightsabre fight serving to deflect attention from the demented ridiculousness of the entire enterprise, and though it should shift plenty of toys, the whole thing really is a bloated and torpid embarrassment.
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Its plot: the Galactic Republic comes under threat from sinister separatists, forcing Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) to act as protector to the stupidly named Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman) while the stupidly named Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewen McGregor) discovers a secret Clone Army planning to enslave the republic. It’s all as retarded as it sounds, with plot and wit sacrificed wholesale in favour of extravagant visuals, set-piece battles, duels, and the introduction of new characters with monikers like Mace Windu and Count Dooku. (No Qui-Gonn Jin!)
The only respect in which Attack Of The Clones deserves credit is its scaling down of the time devoted to the infernal Jar-Jar Binks, a gibbering gollywog-type figure who speaks in the manner of a racist impersonating a negro. This, on its own, is considerable cause for relief among those whose status as parents leaves them with no choice but to attend, though hardly good reason to start dishing out the Oscars.
The two little lads who brought me couldn’t have looked more bored out of their tits if I had been reading the Financial Times to them out loud, and there are few better judges. If you are in any position to avoid Star Wars: Attack of the Clones , I cannot recommend strongly enough that you give it a miss.