It’s less clunky, and not as downright annoying as Clones. Visually, it’s a joy to behold and Ian McDiarmid is having a laugh. But it’s bereft of invention, laughs, and those operatic and iconic moments that elevated the original trilogy above its matinee inspirations.
Anakin is so weakly written that any actor would struggle with imbuing his transition to the Dark Side with any conviction. Painful viewing for all concerned. And only George Lucas could make Samuel L. Jackson boring.
You’re left with the impression that the film’s sole purpose is to wrap everything up smoothly and lay the groundwork for A New Hope (1977), which is all quite pointless as no backstory is needed.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 