What endures for the critics and their lay associates, for aesthetes who live for the beauty and the pleasure of movies, is Lucas’s directing-of two films, “Attack of the Clones” and, especially, “Revenge of the Sith.” If Lucas had done nothing else in his life, he’d have an honored place in my personal pantheon for that work. Those are for the movie books, for the pundits who reduce movies to such sociological oxymorons as “collective imagination,” the cultural counterparts to industry analysts who talk only about box office. Lucas’s great achievement isn’t the conception of the “Star Wars” saga, the inauguration of the franchise, or his consignment of it to Disney for cloning ad infinitum.
Yet this retroactive recognition is nonetheless proof that a filmmaker can be both rich as Croesus and assured of a place in history while still remaining a misunderstood and unappreciated artist.
It’s nice to see George Lucas get a little love (as Bryan Curtis noted this week).
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