Star Wars fans, rejoice.

George Lucas' bombastic space soap opera thunders through its sixth instalment in Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith, a dazzling and gorgeously rendered send-off to one of cinema's most beloved science fiction franchises.  In this eclectic mash of superhero ethos and digital wizardry Lucas at last rekindles his ability to tickle the imaginations of his viewers, a gift which has remained sadly dormant in his career for the good part of two decades.  His last substantial film was Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989), which he produced.

Recent fluffy predecessors Episode 1: The Phantom Menace and Episode 2: Attack of the Clones led Lucas to the dark side of formulaic filmmaking, in which cuddly Happy Meal graphics characterised the appearance of his new-generation movies while superfluous set pieces and long-winded back stories watered down their content into shiny globs of throwaway pulp. 

It's now easier for detractors of Episodes 1 and 2 (myself included) to find some solace in identifying those two chapters as the black sheep of the Star Wars saga: the two chunks of the pie unable to strike a satisfying mixture that could stir franchise babble, special effects and story into the same pot without overloading the formula.  Here the portions are just about right and, god bless, Jar Jar Binks doesn't utter a single word of dialogue.  Presumably George has been paying close attention to his test-screening cards, which makes me wonder why he didn't realise that light-sabre slicing Jar-Jar into a carved up mess moments before the end credits rolled would have scored through the roof. 

In terms of an ability to design blockbuster films for blanket universal audiences Lucas is one of the world's most intuitive filmmakers, which is both a blessing and a curse for the artistry of his work.  Here he swims against the tide, with two cruddy duds bogging down his recent reputation, legions of audiences restlessly hankering to be filled in on the missing details of the Star Wars universe, and with a plot working towards a bunch of resolutions that essentially have already been written.

Remarkably, this Star Wars outfit sees Lucas -- one of tinsel town's fundamental engineers of the blockbuster module -- breaking one of the studio system's golden rules, which says that a Hollywood movie must have a happy ending.  Taking all the films into account, Lucas' vision as a whole certainly ends happily -- who could forget those fireworks-filled Ewok celebrations at the end of Return of the Jedi (1983) -- but for a high-calibre film such as this, forcing audiences to look outside of the text for a reaffirming conclusion to its grim dramatics is a bold manoeuvre.  A large part of that is purely the structure of the Star Wars storyline, and this particular instalment has been designated as the darkest in tone.  We know that Chancellor Palpatine becomes the Emperor, we know that Anikan transforms into Darth Vader, and we know that some horrible accident leaves him wretchedly disfigured.  We know also that the good guys will lose the battle but, three films down the track, will win the war.

But we don't know the specifics and it's the hows and whys and the small details attached that keep the ball rolling throughout Revenge of the Sith.  The film sports a running time of almost two and half hours but the pace is fast, slick and smooth, and with a minimal amount of the political mumbo-jumbo jargon that haunted the dialogue of the previous two instalments.

The storyline is still thin -- Star Wars is a space soap opera after all -- but the plotting in Revenge of the Sith is dense and busied and moves between junctions nimbly and efficiently, with a jolting rhythm that sustains itself well over the course of its running time.  Best of all, at the end of it you don't come away with that overpowering sense of sugary sweetness or "go buy me!" merchandising appeal.  It is the first Star Wars instalment since Return of the Jedi that actually feels like the genuine article.

The Empire Strikes Back (1980) which is rightfully regarded as the superlative Star Wars movie,  proved that a SFX-happy superhero film set in space could still pack a strong dramatic punch.  Similarly the tonal change here demonstrates the material's potential for stagy, grand-scale personal dramas and conflicts -- love and betrayal and a litany of other emotions set in front of the fire of wars and revolution, where heroes and villains play on both sides and their adventures are accentuated by a sense of fallen dynasties, misguided morals, goodness and evil.

There is a brooding cloak of darkness that overshadows Revenge of the Sith, hanging like an ominous grey sky looming above a picturesque lagoon -- silently threatening to boil over any time into a storm of doom, but still part of a scenic horizon that carries with it a prevailing sense of splendour and wholesomeness.  Lucas has always been a technically orientated director, much more able to get his mind around architecture, effects and sets than writing and direction, but here the story threads nicely and the nooks and crannies and finer strokes of Lucas' canvas buzz from the heightened sense of atmosphere, something that was only primitively developed in the two previous episodes. 

Even if Lucas does have the tendency to go over board -- too often favouring compositions that look like frenzied screensavers rather than creative use of the frame -- the girth and magnitude of his work can be gob smacking.  With a more theatrical sense of character and plot riffs, and with a seriousness in its tone and a swift dramatic arc, the surface of Revenge of the Sith can be appreciated without feeling that it's merely serving as a tool for misdirection, diverting eyes away from ailing storylines.  This one shoots along on relentlessly.

Yes, you'll see Yoda kick some ass -- but continues to fail, he does, at basic English. Expect a birth scene, expect an operating table scene, and expect a number of bumps and thrills along the way.  General Grievous, a nefarious cyborg with four arms and four light sabres, makes a more imposing villain than Darth Maul, but then again they all do.  How many blockbuster movies have you seen with three primary characters as villains and two of them win in the end?  This is a film built entirely around the concept of finalising another narrative's back-story.  Considering we know where all the roads lead, making the ride there such a buzz is an achievement in itself. 

Revenge of the Sith is reminiscent of both the virtues and the shortcomings of the original films: overtly hammy and po-faced on one hand, deliriously fun on the other.

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