Mark Steyn proves that the pen--or at least the word processor--is mightier than the light sabre, as he gleefully runs roughshod through Star Wars Episode III:

Revenge of the Sith is, so Lucas assures us, a ‘tragedy’. It might have been wise to have stationed an announcer at every movie house to announce this fact over the PA system since it eluded the audience I saw it with last weekend. When the Sith hits the fan, the fan bursts out laughing. Oh, to be sure, they were diverted by the opening dogfight and Obi-Wan Kenobi riding a wild four-legged space beast to hunt down General Grievous. But they were howling with laughter through all the so-called ‘tragic’ elements. When Senator-Queen Padmé (Natalie Portman) reveals that she’s pregnant, her secret husband Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) reacts with an eerie glassy-eyed expression as if he’s hypnotised himself trying to remember the next line. Eventually, Lucas prompts him and he utters the words, ‘I’ll have the club sandwich.’ No, wait. That’s just what it sounds like. He actually says: ‘You’re so ...beautiful.’
‘It’s only because I’m so in love,’ says Padmé tonelessly, like a spy giving the reply password.

‘No,’ says Anakin. ‘I’m so in love. With you,’ he adds helpfully, just in case Padmé figures it’s the hot-looking Wookie strolling by in the background.

At this, my fellow theatergoers exploded with guffaws of derision. May the farce be with you! The final descent of Ian McDiarmid’s Chancellor Palpatine into Darth Hammitup brought on more laffs, as did the moment when Anakin attempts to talk Padmé into joining him over on the Dark Side: ‘Together you and I can rule the galaxy,’ he snarls. Well, tries to snarl.

‘Obi-Wan was right. You’ve changed,’ says Princess Padmé. ‘I don’t know you any more.’ He used to look like Princess Di flashing those big eyes from under his hair. But suddenly he looks like Princess Di with too much kohl and in a peevish mood.

When we saw it on a midnight showing on opening night, my wife and I were the only ones we could hear laughing, surrounded in a sea of geeky Star Wars junkies in Darth Vader T-shirts--and in a couple of cases, complete Darth Vader masks and outfits. But I'm glad to see we weren't alone in our gleeful derision.

There's a good article waiting for somebody who could show how once spot-on creators of Hollywood sci-fi eventually developed a tin ear. Is it that sci-fi--or maybe Hollywood itself--is strictly a young man's game? The first season of Star Trek's original series, in which Gene Roddenberry rewrote virtually every final shooting script was its best. But twenty years later, the first two seasons of Next Generation, before health reasons caused the aged Roddenberry to step-aside were just dreadful. Similiarly, the first two Star Wars (Episodes IV and V for you die-hards) were infinitely more light on their feet than these prequels.