For those of us inclined to reading, there are few pleasures sweeter than an unalloyed, unsugared, unmerciful polemic, delivered with style and vigor and aimed at a thoroughly deserving target. Which is to say, Anthony Lane’s triumphant trashing of Revenge of the Sith is a masterpiece, and we are all in George Lucas’ debt for giving Lane such a monumental and soft target. Lane is purely and unapologetically mean-spirited, punching gleefully well below the belt and connecting with every blow. I am no more than a grasshopper in the presence of a master, but am still moved to remark that Lucas is a pasty-faced overgrown adolescent with a really dumb haircut, and that his talent for the occasional really great special effect in no way makes up for his lame plot devices, preschooler-cartoon characters, and profound lack of good taste.
