The saga concludes

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Lucasfilm, Ltd. presents a George Lucas film, starring Hayden Christensen and Ewan McGregor. Written by Lucas. 140m. Rated PG-13 for sci-fi violence and some intense images.

2.5 stars

All week, I couldn’t shake the sensation that a great countdown clock was nearing its omega. Each promotional spot or fast-food tie for “Revenge of the Sith” dredged up my ungoverned feeling of nostalgia and led me to a theater Wednesday night. And by time the third episode of “Star Wars” produced its final wipe and rolled credits, I was certain that a very significant chapter of my moviegoing experience had permanently ended.

I didn’t need “Revenge of the Sith” to reawaken fond memories; I needed it for the closure it promised to bring. This film had the unenviable task of marrying the first two box office monoliths with their less digitally-laden brethren.

I’ve never hidden my fond disregard for the new trilogy, bemoaning that creator George Lucas has become far more enamored with computer-generated effects sequences than with scriptwriting. But in harping on the minutiae of preceding efforts like “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones,” I lost sight of why I was drawn to the original trilogy in the first places: characters who became larger than life - icons of the fictional realm.

I was terrified by the hideously disfigured Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) in “Return of the Jedi,” whose cloak couldn’t hide a mug better suited for a “Twilight Zone” episode. “Sith” opens with Jedi heroes Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) initiating a mission to recapture Palpatine, then a supreme chancellor of the Republic, from droid leader General Grievous.

As the two pilot small starfighters through an array of droid ships, Lucas sets the tone for the film: only a complete suspension of disbelief will do. There’s no room for nitpicking about probabilities and physics in the “Star Wars” universe, especially when that time should be dedicated to rooting on the film’s central protagonists.

Undaunted by the limitations of his human actors or conventional sets, Lucas can continually provide geeks their glee. I was cheering myself during an early scene involving a crash landing, an ejector seat, a barrel roll and the drawing of a lightsaber in one fluid motion.
At the outset, there seems to be little doubt about the story-line. Even casual attendees know this is the film where Anakin must rebuff his Jedi instruction and embrace the Dark Side. We’re even provided a helpful foreshadowing early, when Anakin slaughters an unarmed assailant at the behest of Palpatine.

“I shouldn't have done that, chancellor,” he muses. “It's not the Jedi way.”

But Palpatine - the film’s true star - has already learned how to massage the young, ambitious Jedi.

The chancellor was bestowed authority in “Attack of the Clones,” promising to relinquish his powerful position when both the Sith and separatist movements were quashed. Grievous’ escape from Jedi capture means the war continues indefinitely.
Anakin returns from the outer realms, reuniting with his secret bride, Padme (Natalie Portman). For two people in love, the pair’s interaction seems, at all times, stilted. It’s one of the fatal flaws of Lucas’ vision, something that even the most ardent of fanboys can’t help but acknowledge.

Consider this mawkish exchange after Padme’s revelation that she is pregnant.
Anakin: You are so beautiful.
Padme: It’s only because I’m so in love -
Anakin (cutting her off): No, it’s because I’m so in love with you.
Padme: So love has blinded you?
Anakin: Well, that’s not exactly what I meant -
Padme (cutting him off): But it’s probably true.
At this point, the two laugh over their repartee.
Anakin: I haven’t laughed in so long.
Padme: Neither have I.

In a two hour, twenty minute affair, this can really test the mettle of even a “Star Wars” audience attuned to such maudlin screenwriting.

The one strength of “Sith” is that the audience is unsure of Anakin’s truest motivations. He claims allegiance first and foremost to Padme, but a snub during a Jedi council meeting suggests he seeks unfettered power even before true love.
Anakin provides a wonderful doppelganger to his son, Luke, from the original trilogy. Both were warned about letting fear and anger guide their actions; Luke showed strength when Anakin ceded to emotion. As many have suggested, the six movies speak to redemption - of a son’s ability to resist temptations that befell his father.

Not that audiences can entirely blame Anakin, however. “Sith” shows his internal wrangling, lured by the “unnatural” abilities of the Dark Side but, at the same time, feeling extreme patriotism to the Republic.

Anakin, who has been warned by several Jedi that he seeks knowledge too quickly, tells Padme, “I am one of the most powerful Jedi, but I'm not satisfied. I want more, and I know I shouldn't.”

Eventually, a schism separates Palpatine - revealed to be a Sith lord named Darth Sidious - and the Jedi. After an attack on Jedi that would make Michael Corleone blush, the chancellor proclaims himself emperor and declares war on enemies of the Republic with words that sound like a George Bush speech.

Anakin’s thirst for “more,” his ambition, turns him into Palpatine’s chief soldier in the new outbreak between his former Jedi friends and the corrupt Sith. We’re treated to two duels, intercut with one another, for the climatic scene. Obi-Wan tracks down Anakin at the lava-laden Mustafar, while Jedi master Yoda challenges Sidious in his private chambers.

It’s exciting, but it’s not overwhelming. Lightsaber duels in the new trilogy have become too choreographed, in a way that significantly dampens the thrill. It’s not a fluid, mesmerizing dance like it should be; I’d love to see a fight on par with those orchestrated by Woo-ping Yuen (”Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon”) or Siu-Tung Ching (“Hero,” “House of Flying Daggers”).

In fact, all digital effects have sort of distracted the storyline by this point. Placing characters in computer-generated scenery means audiences don’t invest in their well-being; there’s no threat of injury when the lava is drawn underneath one’s feet.
This is the preferred mode of presentation for Lucas. As viewers, we can understand that, even if we don’t fully accept it. Simply put, there’s no use being disdainful about “what could have beens” or “what should have beens” when it comes to the “Star Wars” films. They signify a singular vision, which can be modified at Lucas’ whim.

Despite the creator’s protest, I’m not certain that this is the final installment of the “Star Wars” saga. Wherever George Lucas lead us in the 21st century, I like to consider myself satisfied with the current completion of the saga’s story arc. If there is indeed a chapter seven, a little piece of the magic might die along with such an announcement. The rise and fall of Lord Vader has been sufficiently chronicled. If we desire more, don’t we risk turning to the Dark Side of greed?