Staff Reports
Matt Walsh’s recent takedown of Revenge of the Sith during its 20th anniversary re-release has ignited a firestorm among Star Wars fans, but it’s hard to deny he’s touched a nerve that’s been festering for years. Walsh, never one to mince words, called out the film’s infamous dialogue, describing it as so wooden and unnatural that it sounds like it was written by someone who’s never actually heard humans speak. He’s not wrong-lines like “You’re so beautiful” and “No, it’s because I’m so in love with you” are cringe-worthy, and they undermine what should be pivotal emotional moments. For a film that’s supposed to be the dramatic turning point of the entire saga, this level of writing is simply inexcusable.
Walsh also skewered the acting, and again, the blame doesn’t rest solely on the cast. Even talented actors like Ewan McGregor and Natalie Portman are left floundering under the weight of Lucas’s script. Hayden Christensen, tasked with portraying Anakin’s tragic fall, is given so little to work with that his performance comes off as forced and unconvincing. It’s a classic example of Hollywood favoring spectacle over substance-something conservatives have long warned against as the industry prioritizes flashy effects and shallow storytelling over genuine craftsmanship.
The action sequences, which fans often defend as the movie’s saving grace, don’t escape Walsh’s scrutiny either. He points out the absurdity of Jedi masters being dispatched by a slow-moving villain and the overuse of CGI flips and spins that defy logic and physics. It’s spectacle for spectacle’s sake, lacking the grounded, visceral energy that made the original trilogy’s duels so memorable. This is what happens when filmmakers rely on digital wizardry instead of practical effects and authentic choreography-a trend that’s become all too common in modern Hollywood.
Perhaps most damning is Walsh’s criticism of the film’s narrative logic. The infamous “lava planet” duel is emblematic of the movie’s problems: visually striking, but narratively nonsensical. Characters make baffling decisions, and the plot is riddled with holes-Padmé’s inexplicable death being a prime example. For all its grand ambitions, Revenge of the Sith collapses under the weight of its own contradictions, trying to be both campy and dark, but succeeding at neither.
Walsh’s review is a much-needed reality check for a culture that too often excuses mediocrity in the name of nostalgia. If Hollywood wants to regain the trust of audiences-especially those who value coherent storytelling, strong dialogue, and genuine artistry-it needs to learn from these mistakes, not repeat them. Revenge of the Sith might have its defenders, but Walsh’s critique stands as a reminder: style without substance is a recipe for cinematic disaster, no matter how many lightsabers you throw on screen.
