Hutchinson: Murder One

DVD, Starsky & Hutch S3 (Hutchinson: Murder One)

Hutch has been through a lot of tragedy in his life (I'm thinking particularly of 'Gillian'), as has Starsky ('Starsky's Lady'), so they both know what it's like to lose someone. This time it's a bit more complicated, though, as not only is it Hutch's ex-wife that gets burned, but he's under suspicion of pulling the trigger. The title sums it up and provides shock value to draw people in, bluntly put as it is, something that the series doesn't tend towards ('Murder Ward' and 'Satan's Witches' being a couple of examples this season). The titles, almost never appearing in episodes, were, I would imagine, for differentiation between scripts during shooting, and to give the TV guides something to list, so it's odd that they didn't make use of more provocative ones on a regular basis. This was another episode I was less than keen on, and which, perhaps because of low expectations, proved slightly better than I'd remembered. It reinforces the impression of Season 3 as 'the serious season,' with very little comedy, but the familiar buddy banter and laughs would have been somewhat inappropriate considering Hutch's ex-wife gets shot with his own piece in his own apartment, four and a half years after he last saw her. Not to say there is no humour, Dobey has a grand laugh at Starsky's stupidity in the bookend scene in which the hapless cop believes he's bought a chinchilla, the Captain pointing out it's merely a cheap guinea-pig, much to Starsky's chagrin, Louise having become his pride and joy, and the means, he thought, to make money! It's one of Dobey's funniest moments on the series, his jolly laugh booming into the end credits.

There's also a really good scene that is as heartwarming as it is funny: when Starsky, having stormed out of Dobey's office with the order to bring Hutch in, which he says he'll do, with his resignation, and Hutch doesn't take too kindly to his best buddy being the one to do it, missing the point that better a friend than an enemy - Dryden, one of the Internal Affairs men, has come along to make sure Starsky does what he's been told, so Starsky asks Hutch when has he ever disobeyed an order of Captain Dobey's? This tips us off that things may not be as simple as they appeared, confirmed by Starsky's insistence that he be the one to cuff Dryden to Hutch, proceeding to attach the unsuspecting man to Hutch's table and take off with his partner as fugitives from the police! Did Starsky plan that as soon as he was ordered to arrest Hutch, or was it something on the spur of the moment? Dryden's suspicions that made him come up instead of waiting in the car, were correct, loyalty a powerful motivator. The scene was preceded earlier in the episode by Starsky arriving at Hutch's Venice Place apartment after Hutch has called in the murder, his partner rushing to support him, reassuring him with his presence. The friendship of the two is the most important thing in the series, so to see it tested and found to be strong as ever, is very affirming. S&H aren't the only support each other has - when they go on the run to find the real killer they turn to Huggy Bear, and ring Dobey to fill him in. Good job IA weren't in his office at the time or, rather going over his head to the Commissioner to cause the Captain problems, they'd be going to get him arrested as an accessory!

Huggy's not exactly thrilled on the outside, but you know he'd support them all the way, as he does in the sting. This is where the story falls down a bit - although the villains aren't bad, we don't get much tension from S&H on the run, experiencing what it's like to be the bad guys is short-lived, and they hook the criminals in too easily, getting them on the line with the obvious bait (which turns out to be a peach stone!), agreeing to meet at a neutral location, this time a mortuary (a callback to older episodes where funeral parlours were used as a front, such as 'Bust Amboy,' or coffins to conceal, as in 'Captain Dobey, You're Dead!'), where Hug's hiding in a coffin - the scene where S&H shut the lid would be used in the credits next season). In opposition you have Cardwell, the muscle who just wants to get on with whatever has to be done; Boyle, a bad guy who's also patient, a dangerous combination; and Wheeler, the man at the top who reminded me of some of the old Season 1 villains, like Stryker, who live in a rich mansion and enjoy the finer things, but also control criminal elements. He didn't seem as well-rounded as some of his forebears (more well-rounded physically!), less interested in playing with his prey, he was only about the money and the jewel, and didn't seem like the head of a syndicate or big-time gang since we only see three of his goons. But he didn't have a red carpet, so maybe that was his mistake! Boyle, the man who actually did the killing of Vanessa, had more character, especially in his interactions with people, a cold cruelness to him where Cardwell was only the usual simple muscle.

I would have loved to have had a tense situation like 'The Game,' where they're so close to being seen by their fellow cops (they only have one moment in which they have to do a sharp turn to avoid a panda, although for once, Starsky's driving a different car, so they weren't likely to be spotted). As it stands, the drama isn't bad - as usual they rub up against authority figures very badly, Simonetti and Dryden pretty much the standard, by-the-book types, although Dryden is initially sympathetic, pointing out Hutch's great record, to which his partner responds that they'll "Give Hutch a good shake and see if his badge falls out," which was a good analogy. No doubt Dryden was a lot less sympathetic by the time he got cuffed to the table leg (though it looked like it would be as simple as lifting the table to free himself - not that we get a good view of the underside of Hutch's piece of furniture). S&H tend to put themselves in hot water, always railing against regulation because they operate in a more just way than following rules to the letter all the time, like latter-day Robin Hoods, almost. They have a strong sense of justice, and neither of them ever react well to accusation or suspicion because of their long history of cleaning up the streets. Their hot tempers tend to make these things worse, though, even if it was fun to see Starsky hold back his partner from hitting Simonetti, then doing it himself!

Dobey's hamstrung, however - he says regulations are regulations, and although he tells IA he'd bet his job on Hutch's innocence he doesn't have the luxury of interpreting the rules in the way S&H sometimes do when they're out on the streets. I think it's this stress, and trying to control two men that are probably close to what Dobey himself was like when he was in their position, that causes much of his bad humour. They're forever putting him in difficult positions and not making his life any easier, and they get all the fun, so I'm not surprised at Dobey's constant crabbiness! Dobey doesn't believe Hutch capable of doing such a thing but he has no choice but to ask for Hutch's gun and shield, and suspend him. It's always a big thing when one (or both), of them is suspended because it shows a lack of confidence in them by society - that it doesn't matter what good you've done in your life, you'll be treated the same as any common criminal. Although it's supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, it usually feels the other way round. And all because of Hutch's ex-wife, a deceitful, devious, manipulative woman that it's difficult to feel sympathy for even when she's murdered in cold blood, because she was the orchestrator of her own fate, thinking she could steal a million dollar, seventy carat jewel and get away with it!

The only reason we feel any sympathy at all is because we know it will hit Hutch hard. He's very wary when she suddenly appears back in his life, when the worst thing he'd had to worry about was getting Starsky to keep his expense receipts. He doesn't know what she wants, but, as he says to her, she still knows how to press all the buttons. I like the history that we learn, a peek into Hutch's life before the series. I don't think we learned how long they were married, but it was four and a half years since they split up, and Hutch was obviously so affected by it that only Starsky knows, not Dobey or Huggy - Hug didn't even know he'd been married at all. S&H's partnership goes back six years, Hutch had been with him ever since he came into the department, according to Starsky, although I don't know if that means Starsky was there before him, or they both joined at the same time, and whether the department means the whole force itself, or they had a previous career in uniform. But 'Van' left him because she saw no future in being a cop's wife, and they argued a lot. When she spun her story about buying and selling jewellery on the inter… I thought she was going to say 'internet,' but it was actually 'international market' - she'd have been way ahead of her time to be selling online! She was bad news, but Hutch doesn't realise at first just how much. He's distraught, because she'd told him she had cancer, so he was probably already in a whirl of thought and emotion, unsure what she wanted from him and how he could help, but ready to do what he could.

For once he's a gentlemen, claiming to be old-fashioned, and happy to take the couch when she wants to spend the night at his place, and you can tell he needs to do a lot of thinking. Except he's not given the chance, the callous ending of her life by Boyle when he and Cardwell enter during Hutch's morning run (a strict routine of early rising and a jog is something he's been doing since their married days), foreshadowed by the ingenious reprisal of the creepy human humming from 'Satan's Witches', signalling the approach of something wicked. Her despicable use of cancer as a cover to get into Hutch's life again, and her manipulation of his feelings for profit, make her look as bad as can be - it's not like she's shown to have any other interest than her own selfish criminal activities. If she'd had a child, or a friend she was helping, or myriad other scenarios, she might not have come out of it looking so terrible, but it also makes Hutch seem lacking in judgement to have married her in the first place when her character is so flawed. The episode could have been quite boring if they'd kept her around as I thought they were going to, so I actually like the shock tactics that turn the episode very personal in a good way, rather becoming bogged down, like 'A Body Worth Guarding,' or 'I Love You, Rosey Malone,' which makes this one slightly more enjoyable than those.

All he's been though, and Hutch still keeps his key above the door! It's hard to believe, especially of someone so deliberate - I could imagine Starsky continuing to do such a thing as he's more slapdash and relaxed, Hutch usually the one to be a bit more sober and sensible. He also doesn't wait, but wades in and thumps Cardwell, who's ransacking his place looking for the jewel, failing to realise Boyle is in a side room, who can then come up behind him and take him out with a blow to the back of the head. I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise, really, as he wasn't at his most level-headed in the episode: meeting his ex-wife again; seeing her dead; accused of the murder; wanting to punch the IA man… Still, with a little help from his friends, he forges through, and a good thing too, as Starsky didn't want to have to show him the ropes again if he'd been imprisoned and released, which makes it sound as if Starsky was the guy who introduced him to the department in the first place, though he could have been simply having a joke. He does an excellent job of supporting Hutch, both in front of the department (Dryden, Simonetti, Dobey), and the crooks (he claims he wants no part in the police department, the city or this country, when roleplaying as a man ready to cut and run to Rio with Wheeler's payment for return of the jewel).

With no references, except to Hutch's past, we do see several familiar locations: a reuse of the brown, tiled walls of the hospital set (most used in 'The Plague' two-parter); The Pits, where Hutch and Vanessa meet up; Venice Place gets used more than any other time, I would have thought; Huggy's abode (not seen since Season 1, I believe, although this would appear to be, and make sense if it was, an entirely different place), even if this is a likely start for the police to begin their search for the fugitives; and Hutch's battered car. They don't use the striped tomato, as Hutch calls it in the episode - as he says, "Driving around in that is about as discreet as riding around in a homecoming float," which are sentiments that could be applied to every episode of the series, unless only the police can see it, and bad guys don't have that ability! The Internal Affairs duo were quite fun, and could have made good recurring characters, although in terms of cast we only had one face returning, Vanessa herself, played by Veronica Hamel who'd been Marianne Tustin in Season 2's 'Tap Dancing Her Way Right Back Into Your Heart.' Alex Courtney (Simonetti), would definitely be back next season, I think it was even the final episode of the series, but as a bad guy. And one fake moment that turned out to be real was the guinea-pig (I thought it was one when I saw it!), in the box - through the holes you could see it wasn't moving, so I assumed it wasn't real in those scenes, but Dobey picks it up and it's clearly real, so it must have just been a sleepy animal.

**

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of The Sith

DVD, Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of The Sith (2005) film

The third and final part of the saga, the last piece of the puzzle, this was 'Revenge of The Sith,' and even the name has a great deal of history, being in parallel with the original title of 'Return of The Jedi,' which was originally 'Revenge' rather than 'Return.' A much better title than the pulpy monickers of the first two prequels that spoke more to the franchise's emulation of ancient 1930s sci-fi serials such as 'Flash Gordon.' For that was the biggest inspiration for the saga, perhaps to its detriment, but also to its strength, simple themes and archetypes wrapped in a strange and exotic new world of technology and aliens. In contrast, Episode III had a specific mandate to fulfil - to move the pieces on the board into the position that they would be in (or near to), for Episode IV. But where was I in 2005? In the cinema with everyone else, but not as eagerly as I had approached Episodes I and II - I was a little jaded by this time, not just with 'Star Wars,' but with all entertainment, and especially new films, so it may not have helped matters that I went with an all-female group who came out of it very positively, saying it was really good, where, although I liked it (it was SW after all), I had so many problems with it, not the least that it didn't feel like a very SW film, even if it did have more drive to it than the previous film.

Subsequently, until today, I had only seen it one other time, on DVD, and that was enough for me - it never called me to put the disc in the slot again, partly because I wouldn't have watched it on its own, but would have had to commit to re-watching all three prequels, also because I was all 'Star Wars'-ed out, I no longer felt the magic or was excited to see more. After my immense excitement in 1999, it would have been hard to believe back then that I would ever have arrived at that point, but I had, and I even felt I'd seen the Original Trilogy too many times to be able to enjoy them as much. That didn't stop me from being intrigued by comments in articles in 2006 that spoke of a SW TV series that would run to at least a hundred episodes and be set in the two decades between Episode III and IV - that certainly piqued my interest, but it was not to be, and so the SW discs sat on the shelf gathering dust [cue violin music]. In the ten years since this film came out I thought badly of it, in spite of considering it a reasonably good film, dwelling on Hayden Christensen and how little he resembled in thought and deed the great Jedi warrior, Anakin Skywalker, and that his fall from grace wasn't really a fall at all, just an acceptance of his destiny, and that the little 'family' of the prequel films, weren't really seen together (Obi-Wan, Padme, Jar Jar, C-3PO, R2-D2, and yes, Anakin), in contrast to the strong bond between the group of the OT.

The time has come to reevaluate the film that common wisdom considers the best of the three prequels, and which I, personally, considered the weakest. Having reconsidered Episode II, far removed from the novelty and excitement of the once involving action, I see that as being a little bit boring for a good portion of the running time, the CG more obvious to my modern eyes, and the lack of sense to the plotting a big mistake. Not even nostalgia could save it for me, so from previously considering it a great film that had some problems, I think of it as an average film. I wondered if Episode III would similarly seem to be a boring experience now that I'd long become disenfranchised (to the point where, after initial surprise and excitement at the announcement that the long-imagined third trilogy of Episodes VII, VIII and IX would be produced, I even lost my anticipation for them!), but it actually remained better paced and more engaging, though part of that must be related to my few experiences of viewing it, so it remained fairly fresh, though I remembered the opening and the ending. It was the middle that I didn't have much memory of.

The opening shot as we follow two small ships ducking and weaving around the equivalent of a Star Destroyer, then plummet down to see a vast space battle hanging above Coruscant, was the kind of spectacle you want from a SW film. The aesthetic, which I'll go into in more detail later, wasn't to my taste in this and the last film, being a combination of the fresh, new look seen in Episode I, and the future Empire's that would dominate the OT. But it was a pretty good sequence, even if I still didn't care about Anakin, what he did, or what happened to him. You notice that there's a lot less humour in the banter between master and apprentice in general through the film, as if they realised they had to grow up and not joke around at each and every threat, since that minimises its impact. So the duo of Obi-Wan and Anakin were more natural, and consequently less irritating than they were in similar sequences of Episode II. The lack of humour wasn't limited to the main characters, the whole film was much muted in this regard, but this was because it was a serious sequence of events, heavy with the dark hand of the Sith hanging over it. On the downside this meant that even C-3PO (blazing brightly as if Padme had given him the polishing of a lifetime), who had taken the mantle of comedy from Jar Jar's much maligned fingers, was little in evidence - Jar Jar himself relegated to muttering a single line and being seen only as a background character. I didn't have a problem with this, despite being a supporter of the Gungan, because he had no clear purpose and such distractions wouldn't have suited the tone of the film.

One character who gains a significant amount of screen time was Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the evil behind the 'throne' as it were, of the Republic. This is nothing but a good thing, since Ian McDiarmid was the best actor left alive in the trilogy and has provided a solid base for the character he took on in Episode VI. The Emperor, a pure personification of evil, was played fantastically in that film, and one of the biggest questions for me was how he revealed himself as the Dark Lord of The Sith, otherwise known as Darth Sidious. I mentioned in my previous review that I assumed we'd be jumping forward in time significantly for Episode III, since I'd always imagined the Emperor to be extremely old, hence his haggard and repulsive appearance, but we're only a little removed from the last film, and one of my biggest disappointments was how events panned out - his own Force lightning gets fed back to him by Mace Windu, standing precariously by the smashed window of Palpatine's office, which shrivels the old sinner up. I thought I remembered it was the use of this power that disfigured him, so I found this slightly more satisfactory than that his own evil was so potent that it changed his features to resemble what he 'really' was - I can't say I was entirely happy with the prosthetics, his face looking too latex-ey when they could have made it more translucent, and it does look like someone covered McDiarmid's face in a helmet of plastic rather than being a natural organic surface. But that's nitpicking, really.

We still don't know how he became a Sith, whether he was just an innocent native of Naboo who wanted power and searched out the dark arts of the dark lords, or whether he was some kind of creation of the Dark Side, an embodiment of it that was a tool through which the unseen evil of the Dark Side planned to beat back the Jedi. Maybe there's a book about it, but I'd love to know Palpatine's history. It is fun that McDiarmid gets to hang out with Obi-Wan and Anakin for a bit in the opening sequence, even though he looks a little bewildered and out of his depth by all the effects happening around him, though this suits the character whose act is that he is this weak, defenceless bureaucrat. I do find it odd that we cut to him when his rescuers arrive, at the point they do well in the fight he all but gives a fist pump, but there was no one but us to see this reaction, and we know who he is, so who is the direction trying to fool? They can't still be pretending that the audience don't know who he is, surely! It was also a bit farfetched for the character he's pretending to be that he can run and jump and hang from ledges in the sequence where the ship crashes toward the planet - he's supposed to be an old man! It does make sense from the point of view that he's really a powerful Sith, and you could argue that Obi-Wan and Anakin are too busy to notice and are probably relieved that they don't have to carry him!

The feel of the beginning is of the end of a film - you have them racing to free the captive, there's a climactic duel with Dooku, who looks horrified by his master's advice that Anakin should execute him - why doesn't he pipe up and reveal Palpatine's true identity in revenge for such betrayal, or is he too shocked by the outcome to respond? He might also think that this is a test, and that Anakin, a 'good' Jedi wouldn't follow through with it. The space battle rages outside and the atmosphere is similar to the end of Episode VI, though with far less power to proceedings - the parallel is there, though. Anakin chooses to obey his feelings and the urgings of Palpatine to kill, whereas Luke refuses (although at first he does respond to the Emperor's goading to 'strike me down'). I also like that the lightsaber fight isn't silent as it was with Darth Maul. It's a sequel to Episode II's fight where Obi-Wan and Anakin were left at the mercy of Dooku and Yoda stepped in to save them, only now Anakin has become ever more powerful and with the will of Palpatine behind him against his own apprentice, he can't lose. It's fortunate that Obi-Wan's knocked unconscious, and can't counter the Chancellor's wayward instruction, though the weight of that platform looked like it should have crushed his legs, yet he feels no ill effect any time in the film and is soon sprinting down corridors!

The structure of this film is vastly different to all the others in the series - this shows that you don't necessarily have to follow a set formula to create a SW film (something we'll no doubt see in abundance with the non-episodic films Disney are planning). It has many of the key elements, but is much more urgent, it has a sense of purpose, without cameos (for the most part - Chewbacca doesn't really count), or comedy: things need to get done, this is the last chance, because there was never going to be an 'Episode III and a half.' Although it doesn't feel very SW, it also doesn't suffer from the same pacing issues and treading water that Episode II had. It's never boring - well, almost never. Some of the Anakin/Padme scenes early on, where there's a concession to those that did like the romantic subplot of the previous film, do slump a little, but the personal stuff is kept to a minimum (even though we're subjected to another scene of Anakin sweating in bed with nightmares, this time foreseeing his wife's death rather than his Mother). His fear of losing Padme is the crux of his abandonment of the Jedi, the slow drip drip of Palpatine's wise-sounding voice, feeding him a poisonous diet of ego-stroking and lies against the Jedi taking their toll. Even so, it's hard to believe that Anakin, who early in the film displays his loyalty to Obi-Wan above that of Palpatine (no doubt because of all they've been through together), would be turned so easily.

I suppose it's a combination of fear of loss and distrust of his superiors - he's constantly been told he's The Chosen One and will be better than all the Jedi, so he senses they don't trust him or his friend, Palpatine. And he almost always puts his own desires above that of what's right… It's a little easier to accept the change now, because I know that SW isn't some great philosophical work of art, it's just a sci-fi adventure series and perhaps I was putting my own experience of seeing the OT at an impressionable age above the reality that they were never going to be able to create something that would live up to the hazy interpretation of my imagination - that Vader was once good, that he changed in his middle age, somehow twisted into the evil form we know him as, that it was partly his injuries and reliance on technology to stay alive that moulded him, not a few choice words from a mentor and a baseless galactic war that provided the backdrop. The Clone Wars failed to live up to the single line of Obi-Wan's in Episode IV that provided a springboard for the imagination of what this thing was about, and neither did the transformation of Anakin into a supporter of evil. He was basically tricked. And you'd think after all the talk of Darth Plagus and how he was able to keep his loved ones from dying (are the Sith allowed to love? I would have thought that would have been forbidden for them, since it's a positive emotion. Ah, but as long as it's a jealous love, or a lustful, or a selfish, these things are what the Sith thrive on…), the new Darth Vader would have made sure he brought back Padme from death (unless they're being pedantic and Plagus could only prevent death, not undo it).

Palpatine goes from sowing distrust between the Jedi Council and Anakin by putting him in an awkward position, promoting him onto the Council to rankle them, while also knowing they would use such an opportunity to have him report on the Chancellor. He just confuses and infuriates young Anakin so he doesn't know who to trust, and when all those support structures are removed he takes away his own, revealing himself boldly as the Sith Lord. 'But don't kill me because I can teach you how to save Padme,' basically. A conflict of interests by Anakin, although at that point he still does the decent thing and tells the Jedi, but realises what he really wants and that the Jedi are no longer powerful enough to stand in his way. So all that banter with Obi-Wan, the friendship they had, is for naught? All that he learned in all those years and it comes down to a secret wish to test himself against his master. And I do think that's what it is, more than a wish to kill him, he wants to show him he's the best. They always were competitive. Somehow it should have been the duel to end all duels (more on which, later), and though it was pacey and had some narrative progression to how it played out, it's still somehow underwhelming when you think this is the moment that turns the body of Anakin into Vader, after his mind has already turned (I always thought it would be the other way around).

Yes, Anakin's mind was in a whirl, pressure on all sides: The Council wants him to report on Palpatine, Palpatine wants him to report on the Jedi, Padme wants him to talk the Chancellor into ending the war and returning to diplomacy… accusations fly from him that Padme's chosen Obi-Wan over himself, but it's still difficult to accept that he was the author of his own wife's destruction, the very thing that caused him to turn to the Dark Side was his desire to save her, yet it's he that destroys her! And all it took was some strong emotional distress and a little choking, her realisation that he was one bad dude causing her to give up on life? Whaaaaat? It's bad writing and it also makes him completely unsympathetic, as he's buffeted around by the wind, with no real conviction, he's not even sure what he wants. He's already done things that are hard to fathom, mercilessly slaughtering the younglings (as annoying as they were, you wouldn't wish them to die), though I suppose he'd already had practice with the sand people's children, and I guess he feels he's gone too far to turn back and can't control the wildness that the Dark Side unleashes when it consumes his mind.

The mindset of the film itself I find to be a little off-kilter and I'm not sure if this is really the view the makers wanted to project. I'm talking about the ambivalence towards good or evil. Right from the opening crawl I noticed a strange sentence in there describing the war that has swept the galaxy: it says there are heroes on both sides. What does this mean, exactly? We've seen droids and clones fighting each other and that's as far as its gone on screen. They can't be good or bad, they're simply created to fight and obey orders, and we rarely see 'real people.' Do the Separatists include races that would actually fight against the Jedi, and how can they be heroic if they're not supporting the Jedi? Padme herself wonders if they're on the right side, and in the first place, what's wrong with members of the Republic leaving? I don't understand what the war is about, except as a device through which Palpatine seizes full power. There's also his assertion that Jedi and Sith are the same and that 'good' is a point of view. Coming from the main villain, I think it's safe to say this isn't the view held by the makers of the film, but the Jedi aren't exactly shown in the best light themselves: Obi-Wan himself claims only the Sith deal in absolutes, as if there can't be absolute good or evil, which is a dangerous message to teach, in my view! Also, they're worried by Palpatine's control, but (leaving aside their inability to even realise he's a Sith!), they also seem fairly powerless. Even the 'great' Windu is inconsistent, arresting Palpatine, then changing his mind and trying to kill him, in the space of a few seconds (so he fell to his death? Not the most majestic way for such a character to bow out, is it?).

Windu claims that the Dark Side of The Force surrounds the Chancellor, but it's so late in the day that he comes to that conclusion, so what was he thinking the rest of the time? And he doesn't say Palpatine's a Sith, so he won't even commit to that obvious fact - who else would have the Dark Side surrounding them unless they were one of the two Sith? Although we're supposedly seeing the Jedi in their prime, we never see them at their best, they're more like a martial arts club that goes out and does a bit of policing when they're not sitting around discussing things - once again, they're shown to be weak, when in the OT they were fearless and noble legends. Luke lives up to that, but perhaps he was the exception (a bit like Worf in 'Star Trek' - a Klingon that embodies what his people are always talking about, qualities in short supply to the rest of his race!). That's a problem, because they've given us more of the story in doing these prequels, but they've also evaporated the mystery and dissipated the power of inspiration from the OT. That's quite a crime to undermine all that made SW great and so I can see why people have hated the prequels so much. More knowledge isn't always a good thing - have we been able to watch the OT in the same way since Episode II and III were released? I would say yes, because it's easy to forget the things you didn't like about them and be sucked into that world of SW that we grew up with. I wonder if the prequels will one day be remade in the way people wanted them to be, so that the Clone Wars actually mean something and the major turning points aren't thrown together illogically?

Something else that reduces the SW feel of this film in particular is the lack of a big planetary battle. We have the requisite space battle at the beginning, and the expected lightsaber duels, but the closest we come to seeing a ground battle is the attack on Kashyyk, home of the Wookies. I can understand why they wanted to show the Wookies and tie them in, it's the same reason they involved Jango Fett in Episode II: to bind the universe together with the later SW films. So we get to see Chewbacca and Yoda together as droids land, but we're not given any reason to care, we don't get to know any of the Wookies, it's all so clumsy. First, we're not clear on how and why this planet is so important to the Republic forces - it's very difficult to get a sense of a galactic conflict that encompasses so many worlds because it's too big to show on screen. We can see a battle here or there, but we can't see everything, so an impression of the scale has to be enough. Unfortunately, we don't have that impression, it's like Episode II when there's a chaotic battle on the desert planet with no real structure. When you look at the OT, the approach was to focus on one thing. The Rebellion may have been going off all over the place, but we see the main attack or defence. Hoth matters because we have time for build up and to see a battle unfold, but there's not enough time given to the structure in Episode III. That was probably for the best because they'd have likely done another Episode II battle which zero sense or satisfaction to it. It's almost a question of why you would show any of the battle at all.

You show battles because that's what's expected, the clue's in the name, after all! While there isn't much of the 'Wars,' to get our teeth into, neither is there much of the 'Star,' since much of the events take place on planets. So it's up to the lightsaber battles to provide a SW feel, and they always do, though they tend to be below par, perhaps structure or lack of imagination being a flaw again? At least the most integral duel, that between Obi-Wan and Anakin, is vigorous, even though it relies, as much of the prequels have, on CG environments. It's frenetic, though the power of duels comes from the characters enacting them, and because this version of Obi-Wan is less real than Alec Guinness' (though it's a lot more interesting to see him fight here - he only taps Vader's saber a few times and gives up in Episode IV!), and because Anakin isn't very well played, though marginally improved from Episode II, the power is lessened. The anguish of Obi-Wan at his pupil and friend turning out like this, is apparent, but we all knew this was how it would end and we've been waiting for him and his Jedi pals to catch up to what we knew thirty years ago! At least their fight is spectacular and believable - Dooku's destruction by Anakin is short and merely a taster, while Obi-Wan and Grievous' face-off is harder to invest in. Just what is General Grievous? He's a droid, but he has organic parts (his downfall), but there's no explanation or exploration of what we assumed was going to be the next 'big villain.'

Villains have been the prequels' problem (one of many), in that no one can outshine Vader as that would preempt the main point of the trilogy, but equally, no one has risen to the standard of Darth Maul, either. Each film has had its dark pupil to do Palpatine's dirty work, but General Grievous isn't even really connected to Palpatine, being a subordinate of Dooku's who takes on command of the Separatist army. I can't buy a droid proving much of a match for a Jedi, and it's another example of the weakening of their mystique. We'd had a double-bladed lightsaber, we'd had a bent-handled lightsaber (really, how did that help?), and now we get a droid that collects lightsabers and uses four at once in what I call the 'whisk manoeuvre': he spins them superhumanly fast so it would be basically impossible for anyone to counter - he's even been trained in the Jedi arts by Dooku (so even a droid can learn how to fight like a Jedi?), yet somehow Obi-Wan manages to defeat his stunt. That should make him seem super-cool, but they still don't pull off the ability to make a Jedi look powerful! Four lightsabers is just a gimmick to differentiate from what's gone before. What next? A centipede creature with a hundred lightsabers wriggling through space taking out entire ships? Ugh! And Grievous looks like he should be able to punch a hole right through Obi-Wan's chest with one hand, but he doesn't. Instead, Obi-Wan punches a hole through his extremely badly placed heart, and takes him out. So much for 'the next grand villain.'

Obi-Wan doesn't even seem the most switched on guy in these films. He infiltrates Grievous' base by scurrying around atop a gigantic, noisy lizard! Is that the best way to creep into a secret HQ? Could we not have seen some effort on his behalf, leaping from outcropping to outcropping and using his Jedi reflexes and strength to get himself across what appears impossible terrain? That would have been an ideal way to show the power of a Jedi, and their resourcefulness, but the impression we get is of people that hop around with a lightsaber and that's all there is to them. It's not all the fault of characters to draw you in, however, CGI is again used to the detriment of the film where more physical sets and characters could, and should, have been created. That's one of the things that makes the OT so real and vast and impressive, that they built amazing sets and filmed in beautiful locations. Such things are sacrificed so you can get increasingly less believable shots which your mind knows to be false, and it's just one more element that subtly takes you out of what could have been an involving story. The design is another issue. I know there had to be the beginnings of the Empire's look to technology, and I like that look, it's what the OT films are made of, but here it's such a halfway point between the shiny new Coruscant stuff and the dingy, darkened settings and varied ship designs that it doesn't fill me with fascination and the desire to study the ships or sets. Why not have the Clone Troopers wear ordinary Stormtrooper helmets in the first place? What's the difference?

It can be seen as a bit pedantic to complain about the look of the production design compared to a well-known look in the other films, but it's all part of what makes up this thing we know as SW. So it is with great pleasure that we finally come to some parts of what we know from the OT: seeing Darth Vader (so named because, well, Palpatine just thought it up on the spot - it sounded good in his head, so that's what he'll be called!), the Emperor, and even a young 'Governor' Tarkin (though he looked like he had a problem with his face!), on the bridge of a Star Destroyer. It seemed a little early for them to have built so much of the Death Star, which is what they're looking out on, especially as the plans had only been revealed in Episode II, which is around four years before. I suppose we don't know exactly when this shot is taken from, so it could be months or years later. The other great joy is to see Senator Organa's ship, run by Captain Antilles - that famous white corridor that R2-D2 and C-3PO hurry along at the start of Episode IV! It's wonderful to see how they tie the droids into that period (and if you enjoyed the 'Star Wars Droids' cartoon, in which they serve with Antilles on their own adventures, it's like a validation of that, too), even if it's hard to believe that a sparkling white ship would look exactly the same twenty years later. As I thought, 3PO gets his mind wiped, making R2, who is secretly the real hero of the saga, the only one to know everything!

I can't end my review without mentioning Yoda's fraught battle with Palpatine. If someone had told me years ago that I'd one day get to see these two duke it out, it would have filled me with unfettered anticipation, but while it isn't bad, it doesn't live up to the billing, as CG is used for everything. The senate is dismantled (literally), and the pair end up leaping around the senate chambers throwing the seating barges at each other. Well, Palpatine had stayed in office long after his term had expired, and he wasn't going to relinquish power, only little Yoda stood in his way. It's a more interesting fight than when he was up against Dooku, and it does have some structure - it's especially interesting to see where the Chancellor emerged from when he entered the Senate. But as I say, it's let down by reliance on CG. Yoda's story is sad, banishing himself far away, one of the few moments of emotion in the film, but it does end on a positive note, Obi-Wan delivering Luke to Owen and Beru as they watch the suns set on Tatooine, mirroring the famous shot of the young Luke Skywalker looking out at his future, and dreaming. But what does Obi-Wan have to keep him occupied for twenty years? I know Yoda lets him know that Qui-Gon Jinn is ready to speak with him, having returned from the netherworld of The Force, but it must be a boring life to be sequestered away, after you've spent it on adventure, and he was still young enough to be very active. Are their tales of what he did in those years? I'm still sore that Qui-Gon didn't appear, as that would have been one more positive for me to take from a pretty good ending.

I'd love to end on such a positive note, but there's still so much that annoys me or niggles in this film: if Palpatine knows Anakin will become more powerful than either himself or Yoda, why keep him alive? He could have kicked him into the lava and nobody would have been the wiser, and onto the next pupil. It must be that he likes having such a powerful right hand to do his bidding, and thinks he'll be able to dodge the bullet of the inevitable uprising from his apprentice, not counting on the purity of Luke to rescue his Father and turn him back to good. Was Anakin really The Chosen One, or was it Luke? Vader is the one to kill the Emperor in the end, saving Luke, but surely it is Luke that brings balance to The Force. Then again, what does that mean, exactly? It's all a bit vague, and you could probably interpret it how you wanted to (Leia could be The Chosen One, for all we know!). Why didn't Obi-Wan do the decent thing and put Anakin out of his misery instead of leaving him to burn? Or couldn't he stomach dealing the killing blow? The first SW film to get a '12' rating, and you can see why from such a moment as Anakin, his limbs chopped off, burning like kindling as the heat of the lava sets him on fire in great agony. There're also things like Dooku's beheading and Palpatine's shrivelling transformation, shown in all its 'glory.' The tone, too, is quite serious and adult in many ways, not something you could show to a young child. Which is a shame, because despite there being moments of gore in SW (arms being chopped off in a pool of blood springs to mind), it's child friendly, and only pushes enough in that direction to keep an uncertain, dangerous edge to proceedings. Again, direction is at fault.

Nute Gunray and his minions are unceremoniously cut down by Anakin, and I couldn't help but feel that much of this kind of stuff, rather than taking advantage of a gifted opportunity to craft an incredible finale to the prequels, was box-ticking: 'we have to get this, this and this done,' rather than seeing it as something to be exploited. The voices of some of the Trade Federation types were changed to American to avoid criticism of racism, which is a bit jarring when you watch the film - it's inevitable that a film based in the past (I'm not talking 'A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away….'), owing so much to 'Flash Gordon' and the sci-fi of yore, would reflect some of the attitudes of the time. While it was made in modern times, it's of a different time, so I don't see any problem with stereotypes being used in a minor way and it's rather going into political correctness which is a strange thing to encounter in a SW film. It's not a big deal, it's not even about the stereotypes, but about keeping a consistency within a created world, so although I'm not arguing for stereotypes, I can see why they might have left it as it was rather than trying to please people. This trilogy itself has smacked of trying to please, reacting to the criticisms of each film to make changes, which suggests the Director's vision wasn't as strong as it should have been. Do, or do not, there is no compromise: that is why you fail… Although the Jedi themselves fail simply because… I'm not even sure, they were just useless, failing to demonstrate their powers of foreknowledge or lightning reactions at any time, cut down by clones in the most unimaginative way. So pass these 'great heroes' of legend. So much for them!

Some final notes: I wondered if they couldn't get back the actor who played Captain Typho, as you see him only in long shot and it could be anyone, but then he's there in the credits! Also in the credits, Bruce Spence straddled 'The Matrix' and 'The Lord of The Rings' franchises (as the Train Man and the Mouth of Sauron), and now gets his foot in the SW door as one of the lined aliens Obi-Wan goes to help (were they setting him up, or were they really captive?). While I said earlier there were no cameos, Jeremy Bulloch (the original Boba Fett), is credited as Captain Colton, but I never noticed him, and Mon Mothma was, too, but she was never in it unless you count the deleted scene on the DVD - you wouldn't usually credit someone on the film unless their scene was included. And I have to mention the shot of the ch'poka snippet (or whatever it was called), clasped in the cold hands of Padme Amidala on her death carriage. That was the kind of subtle, heart-tugging visual that matters, and if the film had been able to understand that earlier, then we might have had a film that lived up to the SW name, while also advancing it into the modern era. There's been a bit of a backlash on CG in recent years, with many filmmakers opting to promote their films as being more real rather than reliant on CG, as it affects the actors' performances as well as our belief in its reality. If SW was in large part responsible for this shift in attitude from the be-all and end-all into a useful tool when not overused, then that's at least one positive thing to credit the trilogy with, even if there's not a lot else.

***

Star Wars Episode II: Attack of The Clones

DVD, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of The Clones (2002) film

Oh dear, where to start? 2002, I suppose… After being terrifically entertained by Episode I, a film I'll always defend, I was no doubt excited to see the next instalment, and although waiting three years didn't seem quite as much of an age as it would have when I was a child, it was still a pretty long time - 'The Lord of The Rings' trilogy came out in three successive years, so there no longer seemed as much of a reason to be forced to wait so long (for a school child, six years is longer than their secondary school career!). While I was still in my teenage years (just), when Episode II came out I was on the cusp of beginning to see the patterns in narratives, the cliched form of so many films, and special effects were just about to start losing their specialness. But I was still not quite old enough to realise all this, cynicism hadn't gripped hold, so I couldn't quite grasp why this film was the first 'Star Wars' not to fill me with pleasure - I remember leaving with the impression that it had been a great experience, but it wasn't quite there, it was missing… something. I couldn't define that impression, and subsequently I enjoyed it again on DVD release, partly because of the novelty of the medium at the time. But although I could be absorbed by the exciting action sequences and remained onside, looking forward to how the trilogy would conclude, I didn't quite know what was wrong with the film: I had a bad feeling about this…

I remember writing a letter to someone (these were like emails, but you actually printed them out, physically folding the sheets of paper so they would fit inside what we called an 'envelope' which was then fitted with a 'stamp' and delivered to the address printed on the front of the envelope), mentioning the film was good, but that I'd enjoyed 'Spider-Man,' released the same year, more. Having seen that film in recent years I can say that it still holds up and impresses me, but Episode II, sadly, does not. I do remember discussing it at the time, saying that the battles were a bit 'soulless,' and I'm pretty sure I never liked Hayden Christensen's portrayal of Luke Skywalker's famous Father, Anakin. I don't want to rip into an actor - not that he's ever going to read this, but constructive criticism is more valid than tearing a person's work to pieces. I don't know whether it was because I had imagined Anakin in such a vastly different way to the screen version, or whether even then, I had little patience for this irritating, bad-tempered, sulking, resentful, manipulative teenager, whose anger sounded more like the pouting of an irritating schoolboy than a young man of power and confidence. I suppose I'd always imagined (sketchily, admittedly), Luke's Father to be a Qui-Gon Jinn type: noble, self-sacrificing, a good leader; so it was with great appetite that I set myself up to watch the downfall of such a man. What I got was a boy, in a way, less mature than his boyhood self in Episode I, because at least in that he was described as kind, doing things for others and wanting to help people, his curiosity about the wider galaxy an unfulfilled dream.

I imagined Anakin being a good, but powerful Jedi who goes through some incident that transforms him into the evil dictator he would become (or, to be more precise, the evil henchman of the Emperor), it would be a tragedy of vast proportions, a sad failure by himself or others that drove him to the Dark Side. Instead we find out that he's on the way there all by himself, having developed an arrogant personality in which he's constantly questioning his master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, thinks he knows better, and twists the truth around to suit himself. All that stuff about Jedi are forbidden possessions or attachments, yet they're supposed to care, and that's love, so yes, it's 'fine' for him to love Padme… He sees what he wants and his Jedi training can't live up to his own passions. Sometimes you can see where they were going, or trying to go, with his outbursts on death and how he'd like to be able to control death and bring people back, and how he isn't all-powerful, but he will be one day. It's the megalomaniacal ravings of a dangerous youth, one who has only the modest, reserved Obi-Wan to keep him in check. We must remember that it was a bit of a burden for him to take on this apprentice, one who was already considered too old to learn the ways of The Force, but because his powerful connection to it was a novelty, the Jedi Council gave the go-ahead for his training. Obi-Wan was doing it for his master, Qui-Gon, against his better judgement, but unlike Anakin he doesn't flout his master's rules, and it was a deathbed request, so he was hardly going to refuse.

Even then, one disappointment to me was Qui-Gon's no-show as guide to Obi-Wan, as Obi-Wan would later do for Luke. I still don't know why, but watching the film it's evident that a lot of things don't make much sense. The most likely explanation was that they couldn't get Liam Neeson back (a real shame - he came back for a cameo in 'The Dark Knight Rises,' one of the things that makes that film rise above), or weren't bothered enough to try. Maybe it was felt with Qui-Gon there it would be even harder for Obi-Wan to miss the signs that his apprentice is actually a bad deal? Whatever, Qui-Gon's non-appearance (was it his voice crying Anakin's name as Yoda sensed the moment he turns on the sand people, or was that Obi-Wan's?), was the least of the inconsistencies. I'm still not a hundred percent sure why Senator Amidala was being desperately hunted to destruction by bounty hunters. I know it was at Trade Federation Viceroy, Nute Gunray's wish (I thought he got blown up in the droid ship's explosion at the end of Episode I!), but it was a weak connection that had very little logic, unless we put everything down to Palpatine's grand scheme. If that's so, then it all makes sense, because if even little details were purposeful in order to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, there's a motive behind it, at least, and it's fully possible Palpatine knew of Anakin's long held attachment to Padme and that his vows would be sorely tested if he came in contact with her, so getting her back for the Senate vote makes a certain kind of sense. But the film doesn't feature strong motivation and none of this is explained, the tone's so wrong, so often.

The big assassination attempts are simply there to kickstart the film with a bang, and they certainly did that, ending bodyguard Corde's career in flames, and providing some reason for Obi-Wan and Anakin to meet up, protect, and ultimately investigate, Padme's potential killers. But because her death really isn't important at all, when you think about it you realise the very structure of the film is at fault. If it is supposed to be so devious that it's Palpatine's wish that motivates everything, then they made it too subtle to appreciate, too subtle for the average filmgoer to even notice! And that's giving them the benefit of the doubt. It could just as easily be a case of needing to get to the next set-piece. Give them some credit, though, there aren't that many set-pieces, at least in the first half - if only what is there had been engaging rather than boring! Unfortunately, the story and characters don't carry off this adventure (with Obi-Wan going all Batman, detecting clues from projectiles), which turns into a weak love story. Who carries the film? In Episode I it was definitely Qui-Gon as the leading figure, with an opposite in Darth Maul, but in this everything's a bit of a mishmash: Obi-Wan is too quiet and restrained to draw us in, Anakin's the opposite, brash and unthinking. His master's far from perfect - look at the way he forces the death sticks seller to 'go home and rethink your life.' It's funny, but he does it unthinkingly, a throwaway mind control we're supposed to chuckle at and accept, because it's well-intentioned, after all, he's ending this weak-minded guy's habit, but the implications of control and the careless way he performs it, are creepy.

I suppose you could draw parallels with Qui-Gon and Maul, except neither are close to as interesting as those characters, and Anakin isn't the bad guy yet, that accolade goes to Count Dooku. So, Count Dooku, what can you say about a character played by Christopher Lee? Well, I can say I didn't like him. It was probably due to the fact that I'd seen 'The Fellowship of The Ring' a few months prior, and Lee's outstanding performance as Saruman was one of the many highlights of that great classic, so to see him again, with no makeup, nothing to make him stand out… it was just Christopher Lee playing himself, and as good an actor as he is, with the gravitas to pull off the role (which makes me wonder if he wouldn't have been better as an Obi-Wan character who mentored Anakin, or at least someone other than a bad guy that doesn't do much), the villain was bland. Maul screams for your attention, Dooku does not. Maul had a double-bladed terror of a lightsaber, I can just imagine the ad Dooku must have replied to: 'little-used lightsaber, generally good condition, slightly bent handle.' It's something that's unexplained - oh, I'm sure there are books that go into great detail on the subject, but anything relevant or interesting in a film should be explained in the film, you shouldn't be forced to buy books just to understand what was going on. We get a little history: Dooku was Yoda's padawan, Qui-Gon was Dooku's padawan, and so we see the whole chain of Jedi training, which is nice. I like that you hear about the lore and get some context for the characters, and all it took were a couple of lines of dialogue. You see? It's not that hard!

When the main villain isn't that much of a threat, you do have a problem. Dooku's evil scheme is to oppose the Republic's ways, his separatist group causing unrest (or so we're told, though no one actually seems bothered). So we need an army now? The Jedi aren't capable enough? Anyway, it's hardly something to go to war over. Everything's manufactured for the Emperor's plans, emphasis on manufactured, because most of them don't come across as natural developments. We're going to need Stormtroopers so let's have a clone army be created rather than real people drafted. And we need an excuse for the Supreme Chancellor to gain more powers, so Jar Jar Binks, left in charge by Padme, is manipulated into proposing emergency powers for Palpatine (no doubt all the Jar Jar haters liked seeing him in the Bantha pudu, although they probably preferred not seeing him at all), so we have Dooku creating a conflict on one hand, and Palpatine rising to combat it on the other… wasn't there an easier way of taking over the Empire-to-be? Did the Jedi not have any ability to spot what was transpiring right under their noses? That's one of the biggest flaws of the film, the start of the Jedi's descent into weakness and stupidity. Mace Windu and Yoda discuss this very point: the rise of a Sith Lord has somehow diminished the power of the Jedi (what's the matter, midiclorians up the spout?) - they can't even see the Sith in front of them, whom they interact with regularly! Failure on an epic scale - maybe the Jedi weren't so great after all. In previous films we're told the Dark Side isn't more powerful than the Light, it's just easier, yet one Sith can cloud even Yoda's mind? Why did it take a thousand years for the Sith to make a comeback?

I don't understand this business of opting in and out of the Jedi Order. Surely you're either a Jedi or not? Complexity's never been one of SW's strengths - the films that is, I'm sure where authors have hundreds of pages to extrapolate and define the universe in books it's become a lot more detailed and complex - but Disney doesn't want complexity, it's wants dollars, so the books aren't canon now, if they ever were, and I suspect Episode VII, et al, will be pretty straightforward for the lowest common denominator to enjoy! But why can we have Dooku, a former Jedi, and from that to being a non-Jedi, whom we eventually learn is in league with Darth Sidious (as Palpatine calls himself at the weekends), and has obviously taken the place of the chopped Darth Maul in the ten years since that guy's demise (or not, if you watch the cartoons, apparently). So is he Darth Dooku, or is he not at that 'rank' yet, or does he think of himself in separate terms to his master, and is only a partial Sith? The boundaries are blurred and unstable, but we know always two, there are, so he must be the other Sith. No one really knows, and he makes a play for Obi-Wan to join him, trying to recreate the similar scene from 'The Empire Strikes Back,' though it must have been just for show as he wasn't likely to allow Obi-Wan to join him. Unless he had plans of his own to overthrow Sidious and take the top spot for himself. It must be a lonely life for a Sith, knowing that your only employee is going to try and kill you at some point. It's not like you spend time guessing who's got it in for you, either, as you only have one follower!

I'm not sure what I was expecting from the film when I first saw it, though I still think of the trailer, scenes fading in and out to the sound of Vader's breathing, as being one of the best I've seen. I would never have expected them to jump ten years into the future, or maybe I would have expected them to jump further, as I never imagined Anakin would become Vader until he was middle-aged and had had a long career as a Jedi. Also, if Palpatine was to become the Emperor, that grizzled old man whose face was almost melting with age (or so I'd always thought), he'd have to be about a hundred and twenty, and in Episode I he looked a hale and hearty fifty or so. But that was fine, they could have another big time jump to get to Episode III… We know it's been about ten years since the first film because Anakin says he hasn't seen Padme for that long. She's no longer Queen, which was a very odd concept: elected royalty doesn't even make any sense! It also takes away from the assassination plot because she's not even that important, being a senator. For that matter why does she even need a bodyguard any more? Leia was a Princess and she didn't have one (though she did get captured by the Empire…). You can begin to see why Anakin might be such a frustrated individual, though, as a decade sounds like a long time to be an apprentice in any field! No wonder he has so little patience with his master - familiarity breeds contempt, they say, although in Obi-Wan's case he'd got to the stage of feeling comfortable enough with his master, Qui-Gon, to make tongue-in-cheek quips.

What has he done in ten years? Grown a beard. It's a nice visual reminder of the man he's supposed to turn into (not that I can imagine Alec Guinness with long hair!), but I don't feel we ever get to know him. He does his detective work, dully plodding through computer archives and forcing us to see the hateful younglings when he asks guidance of Yoda, but he's very staid and proper, politely wandering the galaxy looking for this or that - if people were bored and annoyed by all the taxation and trade discussion in Episode I, they must have been seething that half the film (or so it seems), is taken up with Obi-Wan and Anakin messing about on Coruscant (where far too much time is spent, like Earth in the Abramsverse 'Star Trek' films), hunting clues, whether that means heading to the library or a greasy diner. I loved Obi-Wan's impulsive leap through a window, but wasn't keen on the 'Blade Runner'/'Back To The Future Part II' flying cars. But back then it was all fascinating stuff, getting to see the ordinary lives of those living in the SW universe! Now, it's meaningless and dull. Why waste time on ordinary Republic citizen life when we could be seeing Jedi on daring missions of great personal danger. The chase through Coruscant traffic doesn't really qualify, exemplifying the stilted so-called friendship between master and padawan, full of clunking dialogue and humourless interplay, desperately trying to find some chemistry we can relate to. It's full of ill-judged levity in the Jar Jar vein to emphasise these are fun-loving guys that make a dysfunctional, but strong team, and enjoy what they do. But they just look like buffoons! Obi-Wan's always nagging Anakin, and he's always complaining, so even when they do crack a joke or share an experience, we don't care.

If Anakin and Obi-Wan feel strained and unnatural together, just wait until Anakin and Padme hook up for their bizarre courtship, initially under the guise of bodyguard (that's why Corde had to die, to allow Anakin to get close to Padme - maybe he was the one who planted the bomb!). Whose ludicrous idea was this (I mean in the SW world: I know whose idea it was in the real world!), to put two young people together in close proximity when it's clear he's more than keen on her? Obi-Wan knows it, and anyone that sees them together would too, but apparently no word ever reached the Jedi Council, who sanctioned his first mission. He's clearly not mature enough and it makes the Jedi appear blind. Yoda does mention that more Jedi are becoming arrogant, so maybe they just see Anakin as an example of the trend, not an anomaly to be carefully observed? They generously throw these two young people together who already have a history, a young man that often fails to control his emotions, and they couldn't foresee anything happening? At first Padme is uncomfortable, but intrigued by her new protector, and heading back to Naboo because… erm… well, they couldn't have a romantic atmosphere on Coruscant with all those noisy aliens flying across the global cityscape, so we'll send her back to her home planet for no good reason, especially as she came all this way to take part in the vote, and now leaves before it happens! Then she takes 'Ani' (it really doesn't feel right calling this teen by his childhood nickname), to all the most beautiful spots on Naboo and dresses in the most provocative outfits she can find (including the hair buns look that sets up Leia's style)!

It's okay, though, because Obi-Wan warns Anakin not to do anything without consulting him or the Council - if that isn't setting us up for another epic 'stay in the cockpit' moment, then I don't know what is. Although, in fact, Anakin, ever more resentful about his master ("It's Obi-Wan, he's holding me back"), is free to let it out now that he's far enough away from him, happy to use his master's command as an excuse not to go and help him when he needs it. Fortunately, Obi-Wan's short friendship with Padme in Episode I means more than ten long years of tutelage for Anakin, and she's going so he'll have to if he wants to protect her. It's something of a relief that they're not going to spend any more minutes of soppy blossoming romance and Anakin showing off his powers, talking as if he's reading awful poetry from a script and whining that he wishes he could wish away his feelings - a Jedi should be in control of himself! Obi-Wan was instructing him earlier to be mindful of his thoughts, Anakin prone to focusing on the negative (a lesson we could all do with today!), but he wants what he wants, and with Palpatine's influence on him, now telling him he foresees him becoming the greatest of all Jedi, his ego is as puffed up as could be. In a way, it's a good thing he has Padme to talk some sense into him, though you could say she was ultimately led astray by his persuasive, if narrow-minded argument and devotion, a willing worshipper of her - just shows that a bad person can lead a good, sensible one into trouble. She's a good person to blow some steam off to, being an outsider to the Jedi Order whom he can complain to about their rules and Obi-Wan's regulations.

You could almost say that Padme was more Jedi-like than Anakin, as she remains mostly calm and reasons things through, she doesn't get emotional like he does. While he admits he'd be happy to keep their situation a secret, she can't live a lie - her devotion to duty and the proper ways of doing things is a credit, and I suppose it's only his proving himself by going along with her to rescue Obi-Wan that seals her love. In the meantime, we have to endure them rolling around in the long grass, or Anakin lying bare-chested in bed, sweating as he feverishly has nightmares about his Mother, and Padme wandering around in her nightdress! The worst SW theme also annoys, with its sweeping lovey-doveyness. Why should we care about this couple where only one half has any positive characteristics at all, and even then she's looking stupid, being pulled in by the charm that we, the audience can't see at all. Padme's alienating herself from us because Anakin is hard to like. She even lets things like his half-joking, sinister advocation of a dictatorship, go, not realising how deep within him his desire to control and manipulate everyone and everything is.

About the only time you can feel any genuine sympathy for the lad is when they hop off to Tatooine to find out what's happened to his Mum. It was disloyal to his mission of keeping Padme safe, but he can't put personal things aside. It's around this time that the film begins to be watchable, away from all the boring detection and vague political worries that plod the first half out and drag it down. We get to see Watto again, an older Watto, perhaps fallen on hard times, but it's a nice callback to Episode I, even if the Outer Rim is really starting to look like the main place to hang out in the films (in fact, I think the only film that doesn't feature any scenes set on Tatooine is 'Empire,' which is popularly considered the best, so make of that what you will). It's also great to revisit (or visit for the first time, chronologically), the moisture farm, the actual sets returned to, twenty-five years later. I love it when a series or film does that, and I also enjoyed meeting the young Owen Lars and his girlfriend, Beru, later to be Luke's 'Aunt' and 'Uncle.' Admittedly, they aren't really characters, just names, and when you think about their connection to Anakin, you wonder why Vader never thought to go back to the farm in case his boy was hidden there. It's also pleasant to have C-3PO brought back into the story, and amazingly logically, too, for such an otherwise ridiculously plotted story: he was bought, with Shmi, by Cliegg Lars. Ah, but between now and then he ends up on a Rebellion ship and has no memory of Tatooine at all. I believe they erased his memory in Episode III as a quick fix - one fun aside is a retcon explaining 3PO's catchphrase, "Thank the Maker" - turns out he's talking about Anakin!

Cliegg was a genuinely interesting character, someone who fell in love with a slave, rescuing her from the clutches of slavery, then losing her to marauding Tusken Raiders. This was all very cowboy film, which is probably why I liked it, so his description of how a band of farmers tried to get her back and all but perished, losing his leg in the process, is about the first honest and genuine moment in the film. Actual threat, real people doing something, and the consequences. And then we get a Shmi scene when Anakin goes to rescue her, but finds he's too late. Another Shmi scene, and it's another good one, and another film with a character dying in someone's arms. She lifts a weak Christensen performance and it's a real shame she had to die, as she was one of the few actors I believe in this film. Already failing to stay in control of his feelings, he murders the whole tribe of sand people, slaughtering them with no mercy, overcome by rage. But it's okay, because Cliegg described them as animals, so we don't need to be too upset, and Padme can forgive that, right? But they must have been a sentient society, no matter how savage, so to kill women and children, too… It's a weird point between acceptable violence and killing natives, as if he had a good reason, but at the same time they were people. The Emperor's ghostly theme, accompanies his expression of hatred of them to Padme, and I might have liked the use of familiar SW music if the film had earned it and lived up to the right to do so, but it just feels odd when the film is so 'un-Star Wars.'

The other side of the coin is Obi-Wan facing off against Jango Fett, bounty hunter supreme. I can see why they added Boba's Dad to the mix, because they needed to create more links to the SW universe, and Boba Fett was always such a popular character that to see his origins should be a thrilling proposition. It doesn't exactly work like that: turns out Boba's just a clone. One of many, in fact. From a clone army that wears the armour of the later Stormtroopers, with a slightly different helmet. Why don't the clones all speak with a New Zealand twang in the later films? And diminishing Boba to one of hundreds might not have been the best move. It's also a little egocentric of Jango to want to raise a son who is, basically, himself. Or was it that he had a really bad experience with women and swore never to marry? Whatever, it's just plain weird. The best I can say about him is that he wears really cool armour and lives in a pretty cool pad, white like Cloud City, but that having a Jedi troubled by a mere bounty hunter continues to make them look weak. And this is Obi-Wan, your main protagonist! The actor gave a good performance, his tense attitude to the Jedi, or perhaps authority in general, giving him some bite. But really Obi-Wan, you ought to be ashamed of yourself for losing your lightsaber. The trouble with this sequence on the water planet is that by this time they really have dived into complete CG environments, and it feels fake, the tall aliens feel fake, and while it was once fascinatingly alien, it now feels… fake. At the time I was deceived, pulled in by the action, but I can see it for what it is now.

The takeover of CG is probably at its worst in this film, Obi-Wan bumbling about with CG characters, visiting CG planets and fighting CG creatures. It doesn't have a reality that it should. Nothing better exemplifies this than the awful droid factory sequence. It's as bad as that seen in the first 'Hobbit' film, where you have characters running along platforms, dodging, ducking and weaving as if they're in a computer game over which you have no control. It has to be one of the worst excesses of direction, padding out the story with pointless action like something out of an Aardman animation (though they'd do it much better). Even the use of R2D2 back to being the hero again and getting to show off his flying ability (why didn't he use this on Naboo, instead of trundling slowly up the stairs?), fails to improve the sequence. R2 has probably had an interesting decade as he'd been kept in the service of the Naboo army as one of the fighter's droids (or perhaps he had a rather dull time as I can't imagine the Naboo squadrons having much to do), and now he's back to travelling the galaxy with a band of misfits who earlier joked about being safe because he was along - without him Padme would have been covered in lava. One interesting point that could have done with expansion is in Obi-Wan's conversation with Dex at his diner: he says the Jedi should have more respect for the difference between knowledge and wisdom when giving advice on the dart, and Obi-Wan replies that if droids could think, none of us would be here. It's such an interesting little aside about artificial intelligence, but it never gets developed.

C-3PO (the less said about his impossibly-raised arms), takes back his role as comic relief from Jar Jar (who's limited to becoming the scapegoat). It's not much fun to begin with, but I quite like the mistake of his head ending up on a soldier droid's body, and one of their heads on his body. It's simple humour, but it works because it's not at the expense of anyone, or the story. But while all this is happening, Anakin and Padme get captured, setting us up for what should have been a terrific climax, but in reality is a messy conglomeration of climaxes that have very little purpose or obvious logic to them: they have to fight CG critters (nowhere near the Rancor's league), until Mace turns up with his band of Jedi, who then get swamped by battle droids and the flying insect creatures that inhabit this desert planet (that's another thing, there's too much sand and too much red - if Episode I's primary palette was of calming yellow and green, this one is orange and red, something else to hold against it). This is where the Jedi look so useless it's laughable - I'm not just talking about the fact they cut down left, right and centre, or rounded up into a little bunch having been beaten back by insects and droids, but even Mace Windu, supposedly a great warrior, makes the simple mistake of running away from the stampeding horned rhino creature instead of getting out of its way! Use a bit of common sense, Mr. Jedi, please?

There's no specific jeopardy, everything's so chaotic, you don't get a good sense of structure that 'The Lord of The Rings' achieved so brilliantly in The Battle of Helm's Deep. And once again we come down to the fact that there's no reason to care - these are just meaningless droids and flappy insects that all look identical, and when the clone troopers join the fray and swing the balance of the battle, they're just meaningless clones! I thought it a little odd that the clones look so much like Captain Typho - you could almost expect some plot twist that revealed he was in on it in some way, except that he's just a minor character. And after Mace making it clear that the Republic can't really depend on the Jedi to get things done at the beginning of the film ("We're keepers of the peace, not soldiers"), a soldier is exactly what he and his mates become, though I'm not quite sure what the difference is. I guess it shows why the Republic needed this clone army that had been ordered years before since the Jedi would have been taken out otherwise - I can't even be bothered to go into the hows and whys of all this, the Kamino's never bothering to contact the Council or ask for payment; the fact the Jedi just trust this army that's been conjured up from a bounty hunter with clear enmity towards their kind; commissioned by who knows who, it's just too boring. But it's Yoda and his clones (not literally his clones, although having thousands of little frog-like, Jedi clones back-flipping around might have been more fun), to the rescue, and the little guy does look quite imposing sweeping down in the troop ship.

Even Jango fares badly - again, if there were people offended by Boba's demise in the Sarlaac Pit, they must have cried tears of anguish that his Dad was finished off by Mace and a bolting creature. But with the enemy routed, Dooku makes his getaway (speeder bikes are great, but they don't have the same power to impress when they're zipping over sand dunes as dipping between trees in a forest). And we have the obligatory duel where Anakin proves useless, as does Obi-Wan, so it's up to Yoda to prove his mettle at last and fight on screen. A mouth-watering prospect, this should have been, and at the time was a fantastic battle (even if you greatly undermine the two leads of your film by showing them weak and helpless on the ground at the climax!), but thanks to Yoda ageing rather badly (ironic considering he's younger here, but his CG version loses so much of the presence of even the puppet from Episode I), it's not a thing of greatness any more. He hops around, and although they tried to make his fighting style as dignified as possible, they didn't succeed. As usual with heroes, he's beaten by having to save innocents from the bad guy's lack of morals - he can attack others to hinder the hero, but the hero has to live up to that and still fight. So it was unfair, and doesn't make much sense that Yoda has to hobble about with a stick all the time, but can gather up his energy for a whirling dervish of frenzied lightsaber fury if the need arises - the power of The Force, I guess! One minor improvement is lightsabers are a little more substantial this time, the handles a bulkier and more weighty. But I still don't see why Yoda would need a cute mini one.

The first SW film to be labelled 'PG,' I suppose it was for the scenes where Anakin lops Tusken Raiders' heads off, though it's in the dark, so you can't really see anything. Or maybe it was for a harder-edged tone to proceedings - the centipede-like creatures used to try to poison Padme at the beginning looked quite realistic, and were one of the more successful animation effects (though it causes me to wonder why R2 couldn't have stayed active all night - even heroic droids need to power down?). I don't know, for every fun piece of SW lore or spectacle (Leia's Dad, Bail Organa pops up in the Senate scenes, though it's not explained who he is; Padme wears a Leia-like white outfit), there's a dodgy decision or a ropy effect, leaving me with no choice but to mark the film down to average status when I first thought it very good all those years ago. The score is mixed, the best themes of Episode I returning and some out of place themes from the other films, but the love theme worked slightly better in the end credits than the actual film. I also felt Anakin and Padme were more natural with each other by the end, perhaps Christensen had absorbed some of Natalie Portman's ability, but it was hard going and doesn't make him any less objectionable. He's gone so far from his Jedi training by the end that it takes Obi-Wan shouting in his face not to leap out and rescue Padme, who'd clumsily fallen to the sand. His descent to the Dark Side has so far been more of a holding on to the Light Side by his fingernails rather than any tragic change in character. What they're telling us is that he was bad to begin with and everyone made a mistake in trusting and teaching him.

Not very positive, is it, but then the film ends in quite a pessimistic way. They try to inject something happy and joyful in the final scene where Anakin and Padme finally marry (recreating the final shot of 'Empire' is nice symmetry), but the galaxy is preparing for a larger war, and the Sith are in control. Trouble is, none of it occurred naturally or in a manner you could believe, which is frustrating. I bet I could imagine a better sequence of events to bring about the fall of the Republic and the Jedi. I feel I should point out at least something I liked: the asteroid battle between Jango and Obi-Wan - it was great to see Slave I again (though it's a bit of a sluggish beast, I can tell you from personal experience, having flown it in 'Star Wars Rogue Leader' on the GameCube!). Asteroid fields are always ripe for combat, and the sound design was excellent with the seismic charges imploding sound, even if in reality there would be no sound in space, anyway… It was also fun seeing Ahmed Best (Jar Jar), and Anthony Daniels (C-3PO), in the flesh at the casino on Coruscant; assassin Zam Wessel had a cool shapeshifting face as she died, and Obi-Wan's leap through the window, while not in the same league as the podrace, proved an early thrill as he gets whisked around the metropolis' skyscrapers. Once he's in the speeder it becomes a crowded and unbalanced set-piece compared to the podrace's pure desert setting, and it's really strained in trying to introduce us to the partnership in action. With that at the heart of the film, as well as another failed partnership with Padme, it was suckered from the start. They should have gone much further into the future for Episode III and boldly recast, but apparently this was all figured out back in the seventies when George Lucas first planned SW. Yeah, right…

**

Class In Crime

DVD, Starsky & Hutch S3 (Class In Crime)

A high-concept marred by the Director's vision, and unfortunately it was directed by one of the stars of the series, which is awkward, Paul Michael Glaser, whose artistic licence takes things away from the style that suited the series to pander to experimentation. And that's how it feels, that it's at the expense of the series, a concession that the stars are allowed to direct to keep them happy, whether it works or not. To be fair, David Soul tended to operate a slightly more modest approach that, while clearly making use of the camera beyond telling the story, still managed to keep the story ahead of the method of storytelling, most successfully with this season's 'Manchild On The Streets.' This was Glaser's first role as Director this season, following Season 2's 'Bloodbath,' which was arguably better than his subsequent attempts, and ending with 'Deckwatch' at the end of this season, which, from what I can remember of it, was even more indulgent in terms of weird shots or keeping the camera locked on a scene for much longer than is comfortable. 'Class In Crime' is somewhere between 'Bloodbath' and 'Deckwatch,' as it both shows some flair for the creative, and ponderousness that would take over to the detriment of the latter episode. We see lots of shots where the camera remains stationary and we linger on a character or two, and there are some wholly indulgent ones such as starting close in on a smoking cigarette held in the grip of fingers resting on the arm of a chair, the camera slowing rotating around this central study.

It might be very fulfilling from a Director's standpoint, but it certainly isn't thrilling, and is perhaps playing to the wrong audience that expect relevant and action-packed shots that move the story along. We know Starsky's fond of old film noir cinema, but perhaps it was also a delight of the actor who played him, as we have the elements squeezed into a story that isn't necessarily the best fit - so you have intimate conversations filmed from strange angles, or the camera examining a subject, giving time for us to take in the evil or good in them. I'm not against creative direction, and there were some fitting moments that added to scenes, such as when S&H are sitting with Captain Dobey in his office, sharing a meal, and the camera pans slowly around them. But too often the obliqueness draws attention and allows time to wonder what the camera's doing more than what's happening onscreen. Or not happening, as many of the conversations occur slowly, methodically, rather like the Professor himself. I don't know whether Glaser began to up the pace as the episode wore on, perhaps marking the rising temperature of the investigation as they close in on Gage, or to signify his own temperament as they ruffle his feathers. It's only because I sensed the story becoming more interesting, accessible and even a little engaging as it went along, probably from around the halfway point when Starsky visits the Professor's beach house and cheekily strolls in, only to be met by Mickie, a cold, unsympathetic girl, unresponsive to Starsky's charms. He bumbles and bluffs, and she has none of it, making for some tension - if only the whole episode could have been like that!

For an episode Glaser directed, he's in it quite a lot, though it wasn't surprising when Hutch goes off alone to enrol as a 'non-matriculating' student in their suspect Professor's class on the philosophy of crime. Even so, Starsky has plenty to do, although a chunk of it is being rather unprofessional with Catlin, the woman who worked at car showroom The House That Jack Built - ostensibly doing his part in the investigation by checking she doesn't use the same perfume as the woman that visited the murdered Jack, or whether she's got tattoos, or something, but in reality it's just Starsky having fun on company time… I hadn't heard of matriculating or non-matriculating students, but from what I understand it's one that isn't enrolled at the college. What exactly this means, I'm less clear on - does Hutch not have to finish the course, is he just there to pick up some information rather than a qualification? I could do with some qualification myself! Gage's classes were actually quite interesting, with his engaging style and use of whatever comes his way, whether that be a new student (Hutchinson, Ken), or a blackmail message chalked up on his blackboard, which takes the wind out of his sails for a few seconds, but from which he quickly and impressively recovers face, barely registering the shock or surprise - as Hutch says, he's not the type they could pull in for questioning and get anything out of, he'd be bouncing off the walls with his logic and control of the English language.

Gage makes for a cunning and worthy adversary, someone far more competent than many of the goons S&H come up against. His motives aren't wholly clear, but we know he and Mickie took out Jack and Allen (both uncredited roles since they never speak), because of the blackmail they were using on him, but what was the blackmail for? Had they seen him murder someone else, or commit some other crime? Maybe I missed a key piece of dialogue as it wasn't clear to me, though I can easily imagine he and Mickie taking part in all kinds of nefarious, but ingenious crimes merely for the pleasure of doing something well. Gage is almost a connoisseur of crime, he relishes discussing it with his class, and he seems to enjoy using his intelligence against opponents, though as usual, Hutch is underestimated. I wasn't sure how Gage and Mickie had ended up together, either, though she looked young enough to have been one of his students of a few years previous, perhaps infatuated by her teacher, who then took her under his wing? It's a theory. But theory wasn't enough for the Professor, practice was what he enjoyed. The way he takes out Allen with a rifle while Mickie uses the young man's love of mime to draw him into the line of fire (though the crowd don't notice or don't think anything odd about the mime continuing to do her act even after a man's been shot in front of them all!), and meticulously plans Jack's demise to coincide with his favourite TV programme, shows a mind that ruminates on such things: he's not a novice at this stuff.

That could be what attracted Mickie into his orbit in the first place, perhaps sensing that dangerous streak in him, and no doubt he was flattered by a young woman's attentions, despite his coolness and suave attitude. You realise he really cares a great deal for her, it's not just a passing fad - when she falls down the cliff face after Starsky smokes her out (with a smoking gun!), from her sniper's perch he's horrified. That was one moment I really did like, with the fall in slow-motion, as well as Gage's anguished reaction. I can't quite believe she didn't die! Starsky blasted off a load of shots and I thought for sure she was a goner, but apart from looking shocked and dazed in Gage's arms, we hear it said that she'll be alright, or something to that effect. What did Starsky do, fire near her to scare her enough to involuntarily fall over the edge? If so, it wasn't the best course for a professional cop to take, as he really should have taken the most assured way of stopping his partner from being shot, by shooting the sniper. It could be that he guessed it was Mickie and suspected she could be surprised by gunfire rather than gunned down, but it still sounds like a risky proposition when your partner's life is at stake. Or it could be that he did aim for her and just plain missed, though that doesn't sound much like Starsky!

It had its moments as a story, I certainly buy into this cool, calm character that assassinates Allen Richards then strides out of the building and sits watching the police swarm to the site, and he's presented as a cut above the average criminal, right from the off. The music, which is probably the best of the season so far, and has a memorable theme, generally stands out rather than being wallpaper. It's also emphasised thanks to the longer nature of many of the shots, so you have time to just sit and take it in. I might be in favour of that as opposed to the over the top camera shaking of so many modern action films and TV, except that Glaser holds things for too long. There are quirky shots, too, such as Hutch examining Jack's apartment, finding a mask and holding it over his face as he searches around - it's something that wouldn't normally be done, a little drama school-ey, interacting with the environment, and probably something that Glaser encouraged for a different feel to the episode. I also think of when S&H and Dobey are talking in his office and the Captain moves out of frame but continues talking while the camera remains on S&H. It makes you feel out of synch, maybe it's more natural rather than having the camera follow or cut to whoever's speaking every time, but it feels unnatural because it's so different to the series' house style. Granted, that can be unimaginative and lacking in creativity, but I don't often find myself thinking about individual shots in the average episode, and because the pace is slowed to allow for it here, it damages the story.

One thing I do notice when Glaser directs himself, is that Starsky is usually more serious and cool in his mannerisms, as if Glaser is more self-conscious and can't relax into the part as fully. To give him his due, although he was like that here, it wasn't as strong an impression as in other episodes he directed. He did allow for more comedy or silliness in his reactions, and he does appear more relaxed and there's less of a feeling that everything's revolving around him, something that David Soul achieved more naturally, so that you could almost not recognise the episodes he directed if you didn't know. Glaser has a much more recognisable visual style to his work so you can very quickly guess it was him pulling the strings on a given episode. It's good to have a strong personal preference and look, but again I have to say, it needs to function in favour of the series, not be radically different, and not bring in film noir elements for the fun of it. It's not like it was even a darker-hued story in tone or visuals: there are shadows of S&H when they're at HQ, scenes shot there, and particularly in Dobey's office, feel like some late hour, but much of the episode is bright daytime which doesn't suit the mood Glaser brings to proceedings. There's even talk of femmes fatales when we meet Catlin, and Mickie actually shows up at Jack's apartment in such a guise!

As I said, it did get a little better than I thought it was going to, and when it does get going and the camera gets moving, and the story needs to be wrapped up, it does improve a lot. It doesn't really suffer for having no Huggy, and the partnership between S&H is nicely emphasised when Starsky asks Hutch how he expects to avoid meeting the same fate as the other two former students, and gets the reply that he's counting on Starsky. The beach location is really nice, for some reason it felt great to see the sea, and featured good use of a cunning villain that intrigues and about which you want to know more. It looked like a bit of a long shot for Hutch to go on this course to get close to Gage, and largely proved to be for the dramatic impact of voicing opposing views in class rather than a way of wrapping up the case quickly - just how long would he have had to attend the course if things didn't come to light? Doesn't he have other cases that need work, too? An academic that carries out the kinds of crimes he lectures on was too good an opportunity to turn down, but I can only imagine what might have been made of the episode if composition and artistic arrangement hadn't been the main focus of its Director.

There are few of the references we've come to expect, one being Jack's ritual of watching reruns of a TV series called 'The Rookies.' I'd never heard of it, but I assume it was a real thing as we see footage from episodes (Gage even has it on a black and white TV in his car, showing how sophisticated he is, and I must say it is pretty surprising to see an in-car TV in the seventies!). Pinky or Perky, the pig on S&H's desk, actually gets picked up for once and I realised what it was: a money box! Hutch puts something in it and you hear coins rattling around inside. Also, and fitting in with the noir elements, Starsky reprises his Bogart impression in the largely trivial fishing escapade where S&H are double-dating a couple of girls on some quay. It bookends the episode, but could have been in, or filmed for, any story, with no bearing or connection to the main story. It doesn't entirely fit this one, since between seeing the girl at the beginning and end, he's been off with Catlin, so unless he's some sort of James Bond type, it doesn't make sense. I did like what must be considered one of the classic final shots where Hutch pulls the net over Starsky's head for losing his rod! Interesting that Starsky gets beeped by a pager (sounds painful - yes, they made that joke), something we'd not seen before, as usually they're near the Torino and get hailed on the radio. Is this the future for the cops, the beginning of never being free from immediate contact, useful in their line of work, but also rather irritating - I can only imagine what Hutch would have made of mobile phones and their invasion into the privacy of daily life.

One common thread on the series that's been pretty much ignored as they went away from the comedy a little bit and perhaps in order to give Dobey more dignity as a leader, is the Captain's food obsession. I don't know whether the actor was opposed to it or whether it was simply something that was avoided for stylistic reasons, but at last we get a bit of a callback, with the meal in Dobey's office - this time it's all three of them eating together, so not a jab at the portly Captain, though he's his usual bad-tempered self, scowling whenever someone asks him to pass mustard or whatever! He did seem especially cross this episode (maybe the actor wanted to direct, or was uncomfortable with Glaser in the Director's chair?), even so far as saying a rude word when he tells Hutch to get up the coast to Jameson's College, which was a surprise coming out of his mouth! Starsky's apartment makes another semi-appearance as, like Hutch, we're kept out of it. And I noticed a dog on the beach in the background of the shot where Hutch approaches Gage. Was it his? I suspect it was from real people in the area, but it's pretty bad form to get something like that in your shot! There's quite a roundup of familiar faces: Mike Todesco, a returning character, had previously been in 'The Collector,' Gage was played by Peter MacLean who'd previously been Matt Coyle with a dodgy Irish accent in Season 2's 'Iron Mike' (this role much better), Connie Sawyer, a nurse in 'The Set-Up' last season, returns as manager of Jack's rented apartment, and Michele Carey gets a second 'Special Guest Star' billing as Catlin, having previously played Nikki in 'Starsky And Hutch Are Guilty.'

**