...and some from Kenneth Hite

But Lucas doesn't care about his script, under which gelid wodge of pork fat he immures the cast, especially Natalie Portman. They suffer like the damned frozen beneath Cocytus, mouthing clunking, mud-brick dialogue — “wooden” dialogue is several TLs above this stuff — that Nat Levine would have cut in a heartbeat from any serial on the Republic lot. (Lucas’ admitted fondness for Republic serials may be why he retains such power and skill in twenty-minute action sequences with no dialogue more complex than “Open all ports and drag fins!”) Only Ewan McGregor and Ian McDiarmid, in the great tradition of British paycheck-cashing thespians, force their heads above the goo long enough to actually act, if one classifies McGregor’s by now blatant (and obviously intentional) Alec Guinness impression as acting.