‘The Phantom Menace’ isn’t that bad: a rational defense of my childhood comfort movie

Some movies are bad. Some movies are misunderstood. And some movies were released in 1999 to an audience that had spent 16 years building them up in their heads, only to get a poorly rendered CGI frog-man. “Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace” is the third kind.

Let’s start with the internal politics of the Galactic Republic. People treat it like George Lucas handed them a tax form at a birthday party. Sure, it’s not the most thrilling concept, but it tells a real truth. 

If you picture the death of a republic, you probably see ranks of soldiers pouring into a burning city. You should be picturing a subcommittee. Republics die in committees through procedural nonsense and a smiling politician asking for “just a few emergency powers.” It’s the least exciting way to start a movie and the most accurate way to start a fascist state.

First there’s Chancellor Palpatine. Watch the film again and notice how the soon-to-be emperor wins the entire movie without using a single lightsaber. He invades his own queen’s planet, cries about it in the senate and manages to get promoted for it — truly one of the best long cons in cinematic history. 

Ian McDiarmid’s performance only amplifies this. He plays every scene like a man who has already read the ending and is trying very hard not to laugh.

Then there’s Jar Jar Binks. He’s the clumsy, well-intentioned, slapstick comic relief. At the same time, he single-handedly enables the rise of Palpatine by granting him emergency powers. This makes him the most tragic figure in the entire franchise: just a silly guy who says yes to the wrong thing because he wants to help.

Jar Jar isn’t the only one making questionable choices in this movie. Somebody also thought it was a good idea to let a 9-year-old race a rocket engine through a canyon while being shot at by Tusken Raiders. 

The podrace is genuinely one of the most thrilling racing scenes I have ever witnessed, and it leaves every street race from “Fast & Furious” in the dust. Forget Dom Toretto, “The Phantom Menace” has Ben Quadinaros. 

In the third act, the film unleashes Darth Maul. Darth Maul was my favorite villain as a kid, and watching the movie again, it’s pretty easy to see why — a red, demon-like alien with full-body tattoos and a crown of horns adorning his bald head. I mean, come on. 

Was Darth Maul underwritten? Sure. He gets almost no character development, and I won’t pretend that’s not a weakness. At the same time, his lack of explanation gives him a mystique that might have been lost if the movie had stopped to explain who he was and what he wanted. Instead, it leaves something to the imagination. Who is this guy? What’s his deal?

And then you get to see him in action. He takes on Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan at the same time, and just when you think Darth Maul couldn’t possibly get any cooler, he whips it out: a double-bladed lightsaber. 

The duel winds through a subterranean plasma refinery, where laser doors keep separating Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. Having to wait for the doors to open and the fight to resume only makes the expertly choreographed action more delicious.

John Williams provides the ultimate boon to an already thrilling scene. “Duel of the Fates,” with its massive choir singing an ancient Welsh poem translated into Sanskrit, makes the duel feel almost mythological.

Of course, Anakin accidentally blowing up the Trade Federation’s control ship makes absolutely no sense — I’m not here to defend that.

But there’s one thing the movie did that so many sequels and spin-offs forget: it tried something new. New worlds, new species and an honest attempt to make the galaxy feel bigger. Every frame has a dozen weird background creatures you won’t notice until your fifth rewatch. That kind of overstuffed, slightly awkward ambition beats safe and polished nearly every time.

An entire generation grew up on this film. We bought the toys, pretended to be Darth Maul on playgrounds and mastered the art of making lightsaber noises with our mouths.

So give “The Phantom Menace” a second watch. It’s awkward, sure, but it’s awkward the way a kid in a too-big robe is awkward, and you can’t tell me that isn’t charming.