As much of a geek as I am, as much as I love to wallow in nostalgia and the pop culture detritus of my childhood, somewhere, somehow I outgrew the Star Wars franchise. For instance, I can't remember a single thing about Return of the Jedi other than Luke Skywalker got a bionic hand and the damned Ewoks.
Salon's Stephanie Zacharek expressed my thoughts almost exactly. I emphasized the best quotes:
For years fans of the "Star Wars" series have been trying to convince us nonbelievers -- and, to an extent, themselves -- that George Lucas is a genius whose work plumbs deep universal themes, a fact that would be self-evident if only we'd accept Joseph Campbell as our personal Lord and savior. Somehow, a series that began as an enjoyable tongue-in-cheek amusement has turned into a runaway train wreck of convoluted yet facile mythology, one that inexplicably invites, but can't support, constant defense as a serious work. It's not enough that the "Star Wars" movies are the work of an occasionally clever but mostly simple-minded auteur-wannabe; they've also been hijacked by zealots who insist on assigning weight and meaning to every idiotic frame, spoiling the fun even for average moviegoers who simply have a nostalgic fondness for the original trilogy.
The release of "Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith" marks the beginning of a new era: one in which there are no more "Star Wars" movies to look forward to, or to dread.