...George Lucas's soul was stolen be evil space monkeys who replaced his original creative genius brain with a corporate evil monster who waddles the Earth in search of everlasting profit in the form of a franchise that just won't end.

Yup, the Star Wars prequel trilogy. I cannot think of a single set of three films that have had so much hype, so much power behind them, and then failed to deliver on nearly every single level. Revenge of the Sith, which many people say was the best of the prequel trilogy (and I'm with them on that), only made about $700 million dollars worldwide. No small peanuts, to be sure, but Harry Potter and his tiny magical wand sparked up about a hundred million more than that two years earlier. Not to mention Titanic still standing strong more than ten years later after the Phantom Menace failed to break the billion dollar mark it easily could have if it had actually been good.

And then there's this ghastly new film in theatres called the Clone Wars - which just looks like really expensive claymation with fake celebs doing impersonations of Hayden Christensen and Ewan MacGregor. You think Hayden was bad? Wait till you see someone try copy him without making fun of him. The original trailers looked like it would be a bunch of harmless fun, Jedi jumping into the sky and twirling their lightsabres a couple dozen times then smashing onto the ground a hundred feet below completely unharmed just in time to fend off a few million other phaser blasts. (I don't care if I'm using the term phaser incorrectly.) You know, the usual. But nope, what do we get? Hutt babies. Cutesy talk. It's like a Saved by the Bell version of Episode II, by far the most boring of the three (nope, not even Yoda's duel could save that heap of junk). All they were missing was Screech. (Or wait, maybe Hayden was Screech...)

In any case, enough of the profits and box office performance, in my next capsule (coming soon to a hub near you) you'll hear me bash Episode I in every conceivable way (if I get on a roll I may create several capsules). I know I'm not the only one to call George Lucas on his shit, but it's still gonna be a damn fun time doing so.

Picture George Lucas. No, not in his grave with five knife wounds, but a long time ago, before he wrote Episode I, when he was thinking about how to start it all. I'm sure he had lots and lots of ideas, lightsaber battles, a quiet meditation scene, a chance to make the Star Wars series the super fantastical amazing creation it was always meant to be, unleash in huge visual splendor the imagination that was ignited in the hearts of millions with the original movies.

So what does he pick? A **d**n trade blockade? Really, George? That the best you could come up with? Foolish mortals held on to the belief that something could be good - there was good buzz about Jar-Jar, wasn't there? Lucas had supposedly created him to be a kind of Chewbacca, except to Obi-Wan. And what does Lucas give us?

The most annoying creature in the galaxy. The singular most horrifically irritating race known to all Lucas-kind, and he has the grace to give them the most prominent spot in the entire movie, key in reclaiming the royal palace from the trade federation. (Doesn't the "Trade Federation" just make you quiver in your little booties? Psh! Who needs The GALACTIC EMPIRE when you've got Little Miss Trade Federation?)

In either case, once we realized that Jar Jar wasn't going to die, hope was pretty much abandoned for the whole movie. Even the bright spots of good choreography and music didn't dampen the fact that none of the characters ever got really angry or ever got really mad. Ever. No, no, no. Don't give my any instance. Think about it. Was there ever really any emotion? No. Artifical emotion was plugged in repeatedly like Lucas plugging in the computers that powered all this overly used digital toys he was playing with.

In any case, if Jar Jar killed the movie, then gave it mouth to mouth resuscitaiton, then Jake Lloyd walked promptly in and destroyed the movie repeatedly until there was never, ever, any chance of saving it, no matter how cool the lightsaber battle or how many good dialog scenes (Any?). This kid becomes Darth Maul. Did Lucas forget? When little Anakin came running in, I half expected Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen to wander in with Bob Saget. Accompanied by the Brady Bunch "down the stairs theme" of course.

Blah blah blah. Pod race. Blah blah blah. Action scene.

And then in one fell swoop Lucas destroys the mythology of the Jedi and the mystical power of the Force by explaining it away medically with midi-chlorians. Nice, Lucas. I'm sure we all wanted the in-depth explanation of exactly how the force works, because something mysterious like the Force is of course best enjoyed when we know exactly what the mystery is. That must have been Lucas's thinking.

The movie is basically long pointless action scenes followed by nearly completely inert dialog whose only purpose is to either quip or get to the next level, while picking up some power-up mushrooms along the way. It's childish writing, immature, and completely unimaginative. The visuals can be astounding, yes, but would you eat a pile of horse manure if it had spaghetti on top?

I rest my case. On the dead body of Jar Jar.