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One clone too many

Star Wars returns as Saturday morning cartoon fare
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By Steffen Silvis
Staff Writer, The Prague Post
September 17th, 2008 issue

COURTESY PHOTO
By the look of the hair, you really can make it with Play-Doh. Jonny Quest, come home. All is forgiven.
Star Wars: The Clone Wars


Directed by Dave Filoni
With the voices of James Arnold Taylor, Matt Lanter, Ashley Drane, Tom Kane, Christopher Lee and Samuel L. Jackson
And so it’s come to this: The Star Wars franchise has now truly entered its dotage. Like any ancient actress or doddering politician, it is officially a self-parody of its former self.
This dull animated film, which manages to lack the artistry, energy and wit of the average Jonny Quest episode, is more merchandising scheme than slice of cinema. First, it’s a glorified promotion for an upcoming American TV series, which explains the film’s abrupt ending that only lacks an excited announcer’s voice begging us to tune in tomorrow. Second, it is also an hour and a half plug for a new Hasbro line of action figures, and a tie-in for Happy Meals from McDonald’s. Even for Star Wars geeks and fanboys, this lazy sequel (though technically a “prequel” to the original film from ’77) will undoubtedly disappoint. And how could it not?
Situated chronologically somewhere between Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones and Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith, Clone Wars finds the young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker battling against the dark forces of Count Dooku, while simultaneously trying to rescue the spawn of Jabba the Hutt (“Collect all five figures!”). Anakin, still in hero phase, is finally a young Jedi knight, and is thus ready to play teacher to a new apprentice or “padawan,” one Ahsoka Tano, a cocky riot grrrrrl (imagine a cuddlier, family-friendly version of Aeon Flux).
After a breathless narrator fills us in on who is who, and where we are in Lucas’ never-ending story (which, to a non-initiated Star Wars audience, will sound like an emergency evacuation notice given in Albanian), we plunge into what passes as action throughout this film — phalanxes of murderous appliances rolling toward our heroes.
For those who care about such things, the Separatists have taken control of most of the hyperlanes, leaving the Republic battling away from the Outer Rim. Both sides are trying to gain the support of the gelatinous slug Jabba the Hutt, and each blames the other for the kidnapping of Jabba’s son. The struggle lies in the Republic’s attempt to secure the squawling Huttlet and reunite him with Jabba, before the Separatists can convince him that the Republic has murdered his brat.
The pairing of Anakin and Ahsoka is served up as comic relief, though the comedy is as predictable as the surrounding drama. No help is forthcoming from the writers, who have managed to concoct a script whose dialogue is primarily made up of declamations sequined with clichés. James Arnold Taylor, who has been drafted to voice Obi-Won Kenobi, strains to reach the RADA heights of Sir Alec Guinness’ original, but fails spectacularly. Matt Lanter’s Anakin and Ashley Drane’s Ahsoka sound like a squabbling teen couple on a failing date. Christopher Lee lends his matchless bass to Count Dooku, while Samuel L. Jackson seems to be signaling to us through Mace Windu that his script had just arrived in the post that morning.
Apart from the Jabbanese Ooh-bah-dah-eggo-doodahs costively grunted by Kevin Michael Richardson, we have the voice of Tom Kane striving to give weight to Master Yoda’s loose grip on English grammatical structure. The one oddly humorous character is Jabba’s killer queen cousin, Ziro, whom voice actor Corey Burton imagines as a lethal Truman Capote.
After Disney and Pixar’s recent animation victories (particularly Wall-E), Lucas’ film, unably directed by Dave Filoni, really does look like sub-Hanna-Barbera. Lucas has claimed in interviews that he was after a singular animation style, and that he’s achieved — though it’s more pastiche than anything else; manga meets Thunderbirds.
Perhaps this will all seem right at home on the small screen over a triple cheeseburger. But, as cinema fare, it’s one clone too many.

Steffen Silvis can be reached at ssilvis@praguepost.com


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