An open letter to George Lucas

(In the intrests of getting this read by the rest of you, I should point out that there are no spoilers of any import herein)

Dear Mr. Lucas,

I recently watched the latest, and perhaps final, installment of your 'Star Wars' franchise. Now, it's been very popular, you seem to have struck a vein with moviegoers, but I'm sure an up-and-coming directer isn't above hearing a little advice from an old salt in the entertaining profession such as I.

First of all, let me say that I am very fond of your 'Star Wars'. You excel at world-building, and throwing in interesting details. The action sequences are very exciting, from the big space battles all the way to the lightsaber duels. The 'droids, especially, are creative and entertaining, and some of your characters are instant classics (I, for one, am entranced by General Grievous, and intend to purchase the action figure forthwith). You also have quite a way with dialogue... unfortunately, your way with dialogue is crappy and awful.

Allow me to cite as Exhibit A a word that occurs three times in your movie, to describe the children being trained by the Jedi: younglings. I know it was used three times, because time I heard it I felt a little more like dying. Mr. Lucas, there is a word in the English language which means 'children'. The word is 'children'. Thus, when referring to children, you should say 'children'. 'Youngling' has no place in... anywhere. To recap, 'children' are children, children are 'children', and 'youngling' is an affront unto Language.

Furthermore, there is the issue of 'love'. I attempted to count the number of times that particular word was used in the many scenes between Anakin and Padmé. I failed. I failed not because I got distracted, or I forgot, or I grew weary. No, I failed because we as a people have not yet invented the mathematics necessary to count that high. You have transformed love from an abstract idea, to a powerful force, to a major annoyance, to an entity of destruction, to a swarming vortex of all that is loathsome. Mr. Lucas, you made me hate love. Congratulations.

Oh, the problems did not stop there, far from it. I won't go into every detail, but sufficing to say, your style of writing resembled carefully crafted wordsmithing less than it did eating a dictionary and pooping out language.

For clarity, I should point out that I mean that in the negative sense.

The rule of thumb I developed when watching this movie is simple: when the lightsabers are drawn, it is good. When the lightsabers are sheathed, then I should prepare myself for words that make me want to cut off my face and eat it. Then cut off your face, place it on my faceless head, and impersonate you in order to create a two-hour-long apology, and release it as 'Star Wars, Episode 10, The Thing of the Thing'. Then, and this is where it gets complicated, I would take the profits from that film, build a very large, extravagant mansion, and invite every character from this film there. Then I would leave, bringing only R2-D2, General Grievous, and that one really pretty blue Jedi lady with me. Then I would set fire to the mansion, cackle with glee, then pull off your face and eat it.

Also, sometimes I just wanted to punch you in the balls. Either or, really.

I think, what I'm trying to say is that you, Mr. Lucas, are an idea man. In the future, you should create the framework of the world, but leave the specifics to someone else. Anyone else. For example, a retarded monkey, or a random-number generator.

Sincerely,
Ed