Collectivists will not like the new Episode One of Star Wars.  It has been widely panned by critics for its thin characterization, heavy reliance on special effects, and implausible story line.  To some extent this misses the point.  One does not go to see a Star Wars movie to appreciate Stanislavsky Method acting; one goes to enjoy the experience.

Firstly, let it be said that The Phantom Menace is visually dazzling.  Just as Phil Specter invented the Motown "wall of sound" by having every aural frequency occupied, so George Lucas has produced the visual equivalent.  Every frame is packed with detail.  There is so much going on in every scene that one simply cannot take it all in simultaneously.  Indeed, cynics have suggested this is a deliberate ploy by Mr Lucas to make his audiences see the film several times.

Much more interesting, and unsettling to its critics at a deeper level, is the message which emerges.  The original Star Wars blew apart the merging of good and evil, the consensus that everything was in shades of grey, and the moral equivalence which painted selfishness and honour in the same colours.  Here, suddenly, were heroes and villains, courage and sacrifice, loyalty and redemption.  It satisfied needs long denied and deep within the psyche of its audience.  And it was great fun.

The new Star Wars reinforces that message in spades.  Firstly, notice the ineffectiveness of government.  This is not the Evil Empire we are talking about.  This is good government, democratic government, and it is of no use to anyone.  It imposes taxes upon trade.  Ridden by factions and personal advancement, clogged and stalled at every turn by its bureaucracy, it is powerless to help.  If Naboo had depended on government, aggression would have triumphed.

Instead it is individuals who count, people with moral force and conviction, people who stand ready to fight personally for what they know is right.  It is Queen Amidala, the Jedi master Qui-Gon Jinn, his apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Jar-Jar Binks, who overcome the odds to win one more battle for freedom.  It is also 9 year-old Anakin Skywalker.

Yes, we all know that he will later turn to the Dark Side and become Darth Vader; but we also know that, at the end, he will earn redemption by a final act of sacrifice which restores freedom to the galaxy and wins him back a place in the pantheon of heroes.  In the prequel, however, he is 9 years old and a role model to children.  His concerns are not with environment, community, or social justice.  They are with meeting challenge with fortitude, with being a dependable and resourceful friend, and, most of all, with making difficult and painful choices out of a sense of duty.

Children in the audience go very quiet when he leaves his mother.  She is the only relative he has, yet he makes the choice to leave.  There is a painful farewell, but he leaves on the starship with the two Jedi Knights because he thinks he ought to.

He is brave.  He takes part in the incredibly dangerous pod race because the new friends whose cause he trusts need the prize money to repair their ship and proceed on their mission.  The race is a remake of the chariot race from Ben Hur, but at 20 times the velocities, and with a 9 year-old instead of Charlton Heston in the hot seat.  Most of the contestants are killed, yet he does it, not for reward or fame, but because he can, and because his friends need it.

They need the prize money because the Republic's credits are no longer good on Tatooine.  Barter is good, but not the fiat currency of a distant government.  It looks as though inflation might have taken its toll on the credibility of the Republic's money, yet another blow against government.

Anakin faces a hostile and suspicious Jedi council, afraid, and knowing that his fear can be seen and counts against him, but faces them resolutely nonetheless because this is what he wants to do.  In the final battle to liberate Naboo, he plays an heroic and decisive role, using courage, skill and judgement.  The legions of social reformers and counsellors would surely not wish 9 year-olds to aspire to these qualities, or to look to Anakin Skywalker as a role model.  Yet he is, and he teaches them lessons concerning personal responsibility and the values which make a person worthwhile.

Some on the left might paint the sinister Trade Federation as the embodiment of cardboard capitalism, characterized by greed and aggression, but this is hard to sustain in a universe where the good guys are in favour of free trade and free choice.  It is the bad guys who support taxation, trade embargoes, and conquest.  No, this is a universe which collectivists and planners do not like, one in which motivated individuals can make a difference and achieve worthwhile things.

It is a more rational universe than that of the original trilogy.  The force loses some of its mysticism when we learn that it derives from a sub-microscopic life form, named midi-chloridians, which live symbiotically within the cells of other species.  Someone who is host to large numbers of them can, with training, enhance his or her sensitivity and learn to use them.

Our final shot of young Anakin is revealing.  He stands at the victory celebrations alongside the newly qualified Jedi master, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  The Macaulay Culkin moppet hair is gone, and in its place is a passable imitation of the Ewan Macgregor crew cut.  He wears the rough linen jacket of the Jedi apprentice.  Even though this is a moment of triumph, he looks uncertain, not knowing quite how to stand, or how to react.  The future itself is uncertain.  He has made the choice to be trained as a Jedi, and knows that years of sacrifice, effort and discipline lie ahead.  All he has are the values which can sustain a person through hardship and uncertainty, and which ultimately define them.  The eyes stare into a future of unknown challenges, a future which will be made by the choices and actions of individuals.

Madsen Pirie