How 'Revenge of the Sith' Showcases Classical Tragedy in Blockbuster Format
An in-depth analysis of the best Star Wars prequel
I rewatched ‘Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith,’ and I need to talk about it.
A few weeks ago, my roommates and I decided to try a peculiar watch order of the Star Wars series known as the Machete Order. Encompassing the first six movies — the Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy — the Machete Order claims to provide the most narratively satisfying sequence by treating the prequels as extended flashbacks sandwiched in the middle of the originals: The order is thus Episodes IV, V, II, III, and VI. The prequels are experienced immediately after the iconic Darth Vader twist in ‘Episode V — The Empire Strikes Back,’ though ‘Episode I — The Phantom Menace,’ is skipped entirely due to its irrelevance to the overall plot of the saga.
I came out of the Machete Order with a new perspective on a series of films I hadn’t seen in a long time. In short, Episode IV is a little worse than I remember, Episode VI is somehow a lot worse than I remember (what were they thinking with the Ewoks?), Episode II is better than I remember, while Episode V remains in its classic spot as the best Star Wars film.
While ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ may remain the best of the series, it was my rewatch of ‘Revenge of the Sith’ that affected me the most. I fully acknowledge that it is not a perfect film: Though it is generally considered the best of the prequels, it does still suffer from the flaws that plague much of the George Lucas-directed trilogy. The dialogue is at times stilted and illogical, the special effects have not aged the best, and some plot elements feel rushed.
But these flaws still didn’t outweigh the enjoyment I felt when rewatching this movie, and the appreciation I felt for the elements I didn’t notice on my first watch.
To summarize the plot: ‘Revenge’ is the final film in the prequel trilogy, telling the tale of how the skilled Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) turns to the Dark Side and becomes the villainous Darth Vader. Anakin is manipulated by Chancellor and secret Sith Lord Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) into betraying the Jedi Order, including mentor Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor), all in order to save his wife Padmé (Natalie Portman) from a prophesized death.
I love this movie not just for its endlessly memeable lines but for its sheer boldness, with many thematic and plot elements you would never expect to see in a mainstream Hollywood blockbuster. At its core, ‘Revenge’ is a cautionary tale on how love and fear of loss can drive people to commit unspeakable acts. But the tragedy of the film is in fact double-layered, encompassing both the personal tragedy of Anakin in the foreground and the political tragedy in the background, which displays how the democracy of the Galactic Republic is transformed into the dictatorship of the Empire by Palpatine.
In this first of a two-parter, I’d like to undertake a close analysis of Anakin’s story and explore how he fits into the classic archetype of a tragic hero, with a little help from Aristotle. Hopefully, we can get a better sense of the structure of Anakin’s descent into darkness, and what Lucas might be trying to say in this most unconventional space opera.
The Buildup
It’s no secret that George Lucas views his six-film Star Wars saga as primarily Anakin’s story, or, more specifically, as the “tragedy of Darth Vader.” But it is only in the prequels that we are truly able to understand this tragedy, as the ossified institution of the Jedi fails to save a distressed individual who holds a deep fear of losing everything he loves.
Going back to ‘The Phantom Menace’ for just a moment, we see the following dialogue unfold as a nine-year-old Anakin is brought before the Jedi Council as a prospective candidate:
YODA: Afraid, are you?
ANAKIN: No, sir.
YODA: See through you we can.
MACE WINDU: Be mindful of your feelings.
KI-ADI-MUNDI: Your thoughts dwell on your mother.
ANAKIN: I miss her.
YODA: Mmm. Afraid to lose her, I think, mmm?
ANAKIN: What has that got to do with anything?
YODA: “Everything. Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you.”
It is thus the strong emotions of Anakin, his longing for his mother, that make the Jedi extremely apprehensive of recruiting him into the order. After all, Jedi are normally admitted as infants, so that they may be raised to never have strong attachments to figures such as parents — such attachments creating selfish, negative emotions that can open the pathway to the Dark Side, according to the Jedi.
Anakin is nevertheless allowed to join the Jedi at the end of ‘Episode I,’ apparently because the Council believes in Qui-Gon Jinn’s claim that Anakin is the Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. But the scene quote above may lead one to conclude that Anakin was doomed from the start, entering the Jedi at the wrong age.
Anakin did, after all, marry Padmé Amidala in ‘Episode II — Attack of the Clones,’ violating a key tenet of the Jedi Code. And just as Yoda suggested, Anakin’s strong emotional attachment to his mother did lead him down a dark path; in ‘Episode II,’ we see Anakin return to Tatooine and slaughter an entire village of Sand People — not just the men, but the women and the children too! — after they abduct and kill his mother.
Yet as ‘Revenge of the Sith’ continually reminds us, Anakin’s path was not destiny. There were multiple points where the Jedi could have still saved Anakin but failed to do so, due to both their cluelessness and their emotional detachment.
At the beginning of ‘Revenge,’ Anakin is at the top of his game: He swiftly dogfights with his starfighter during the battle over Coruscant, singlehandedly defeats the villainous Count Dooku after Obi-Wan is knocked out of the fight, and enables the “rescue” of Chancellor Palpatine from Dooku’s clutches.
But Anakin does not feel he has been adequately recognized for his achievements. He is a brash young man, full of confidence and, one might say, pride. When Chancellor Palpatine chooses Anakin to be his personal representative on the Jedi Council, Anakin accepts the appointment wholeheartedly, assuming he would be granted the coveted rank of Master like all others on the Council.
Mace Windu quickly bursts his bubble, declaring Anakin would sit on the Council without holding Master rank — which Anakin deems “outrageous” and “unfair.” To add to this slight, Obi-Wan then informs Anakin that the only reason the Council approved the Chancellor’s request was so Anakin could report Palpatine’s dealings to the Council, essentially asking Anakin to spy on a man with whom he had grown a close bond.
Compounding these political troubles are Anakin’s spiritual difficulties, as he begins to have dreams of his wife Padmé dying in childbirth, similar to the dreams he had of his mother before she died at the hands of the Sand People.
Anakin first approaches the Jedi for help with these apparent Force visions. His conversation with Yoda is worth quoting at length, both to contrast with the similar conversation in ‘Episode I’ but also to illustrate a central theme of ‘Revenge,’ the Jedi being completely out of touch:
YODA: Premonitions . . . premonitions . . . Hmmmm . . . these visions you have . . .
ANAKIN: They are of pain, suffering, death . . .
YODA: Yourself you speak of, or someone you know?
ANAKIN: Someone . . .
YODA: . . . close to you?
ANAKIN: Yes.
YODA: Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin. The fear of loss is a path to the dark side.
ANAKIN: I won’t let these visions come true, Master Yoda.
YODA: Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed, that is.
ANAKIN: What must I do, Master Yoda?
YODA: Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.
Yoda’s dialogue here really strikes me. He is usually portrayed as the wisest character in the saga, but his words to Anakin are utterly tone-deaf. Training yourself to let go of your fears may be nice advice in the abstract, but it’s very unhelpful to a person in Anakin’s situation.
It’s therefore no surprise that Anakin falls right into Palpatine’s trap. In the famous opera house scene, Palpatine expertly manipulates Anakin by playing on both his growing suspicions of the Jedi Council and his terror over Padmé’s potential death.
At first, Palpatine tries to equivocate the Jedi and Sith, claiming they are “similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power.” But Anakin, despite his distrust of the Council, isn’t buying the argument, responding that “the Jedi are selfless. They only care about others.”
It is at this point that Palpatine switches tactics, and launches into his famous monologue on the “tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise,” a Sith Lord who had “such a knowledge of the Dark Side he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”
The fact that Palpatine is implicitly aware of Anakin’s fears about Padmé dying has led some to theorize that it was the Chancellor that implanted the dream visions in Anakin’s mind. But regardless of Palpatine’s culpability, Anakin is immediately receptive to this line of dialogue, and by the end of his speech, the Chancellor knows he has him ensnared:
ANAKIN: What happened to [Plagueis]?
PALPATINE: He became so powerful, the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It’s ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself.
ANAKIN: Is it possible to learn this power?
PALPATINE: Not from a Jedi.
As a final snub from the Council, Anakin is denied the chance to lead the pursuit of General Grievous, the final Separatist leader, on the planet of Utapau, even though Palpatine had requested that Anakin lead the mission. Anakin’s distrust of the Council is nearing the breaking point.
Just before Obi-Wan leaves on his mission, he and Anakin hold their final conversation before the film’s climax, in which even Anakin’s dear Master shows little understanding of Anakin’s feelings. When Anakin vents about his frustrations with the Council, Obi-Wan tells him to simply “be patient” and that it “won’t be long” before he is made a Jedi Master.
These empty platitudes seem to solidify in Anakin’s mind that he can’t even trust Obi-Wan to help him. In his mind, the only one giving him a way out is Palpatine. In a later conversation with Padmé, Anakin seems enraptured by the Chancellor’s promise of power, and has apparently become convinced that he has found the solution to his problems.
ANAKIN: I have found a way to save you.
PADME: Save me?
ANAKIN: From my nightmares.
PADME: Is that what’s bothering you?
ANAKIN: I won’t lose you, Padmé.
It is Anakin’s desperation, the sheer desperation to avert destiny, that leads him to an awful choice, and a painful descent into darkness.
The Turn
Obi-Wan’s discovery of General Grievous on Utapau leads directly into the decisive moments of the film.
Mace Windu tells Anakin to relay this information to the Chancellor, saying “his reaction will give us a clue to his intentions.” The Council has begun to sense the Dark Side surrounding Palpatine, but they are not quite sure about its contours.
Once Anakin arrives in the Chancellor’s office, Palpatine takes a gamble and reveals his true identity as Darth Sidious, to which Anakin reacts by igniting his lightsaber. Anakin does not fight Palpatine, however, instead choosing to go and inform Mace Windu. Palpatine utters one last plea before he leaves: “You have great wisdom, Anakin. Know the power of the dark side. The power to save Padmé.”
Mace Windu then goes to confront the Chancellor, but orders Anakin to stay behind, saying he senses a “great deal of confusion” within him. It is after Mace departs, leaving Anakin alone to contemplate in the empty Council chamber, that what I believe the movie’s best scene occurs — without a single line of dialogue.
As Anakin stares out into the Coruscant skyline, a haunting theme playing in the background, Palpatine’s voice echoes in his head, saying, “You do know, don’t you, if the Jedi destroy me, any chance of saving her will be lost.” From her own apartment, Padmé stares out towards the Jedi Temple, and for a moment, it seems like Anakin and Padmé can see each other.
Anakin sheds a tear, then turns around and exits the Council room: He has made his decision.
It’s critical for the next scene to note that, based on the words of Palpatine he hears in his mind, Anakin makes his decision not due to his dislike of the Jedi Council but due to his desire to save Padmé. He is not yet a loyal Sith; rather, his primary motivation is to use Sidious for his personal agenda.
Anakin rushes over to the Chancellor’s office, by which point all hell has broken loose: Palpatine has killed Mace Windu’s three Jedi companions, while Mace has just disarmed the Chancellor, leaving him cowering against the broken window. The resulting dialogue between Anakin and Mace is instructive in revealing how Anakin’s motivations have become muddled by both the manipulation of Palpatine and his own troubled emotions:
MACE WINDU: I am going to end this once and for all.
ANAKIN: You can’t! He must stand trial.
MACE WINDU: He has control of the Senate and the Courts! He is too dangerous to be kept alive.
PALPATINE: I’m too weak. Don’t kill me. Please.
ANAKIN: It’s not the Jedi way. He must live!
MACE raises his sword to kill the CHANCELLOR.
PALPATINE: Please don’t, please don't . . .
ANAKIN: I need him!
PALPATINE: Please don't . . .
ANAKIN: NO!!!
Anakin’s motivation again remains personal rather than political; such is why his final words to Mace are “I need him!” rather than “it’s not the Jedi way.” Anakin then slices Mace’s hand off, allowing Palpatine to Force Lightning him into the Coruscant skyline. Anakin shows immediate regret for his impulsive action, crying, “what have I done?”
This regret ties into one of the most common criticisms of ‘Revenge,’ which is that, despite the seeds of darkness planted throughout the film, Anakin’s actual turn to the Dark Side feels abrupt and unearned. I admit that, while watching the film, it did feel a bit quick, as just after this scene Anakin marches over to the Jedi Temple and begins slaughtering people who were his comrades just a few hours earlier.
But after thinking it over, I think Lucas is trying to show multiple complex dynamics swimming through Anakin’s head in the Jedi Temple and preceding scenes. For instance, as Anakin bows down before Darth Sidious in his office, he says, “I will do whatever you ask. Just help me save Padmé’s life. I can’t live without her.”
As throughout the entire film, all of Anakin’s actions tie back to his love of, or perhaps obsession with, Padmé. Yet it’s also apparent from his body language and facial expressions that Anakin truly believes that the Jedi have betrayed the Republic. As he says to Padmé just before he leaves for Mustafar, “My loyalties lie with the Chancellor, and with the Senate.”
Mace Windu’s attempt to kill Palpatine shattered what little was left of Anakin’s faith in the Jedi, enabling him to rationalize full alignment with Sidious’s plan. Additionally, the fact that Anakin directly aided in killing Mace means that he has passed the point of no return. Both morally and practically, he feels he simply cannot return to the Jedi after slicing the hand of a Council member.
It might thus be fair to say that, at this point in the film, Anakin has not yet “become evil.” There is no evidence he enjoyed wiping out the Jedi Temple, for instance; it is simply something he feels he has to do in order to achieve his main goal of saving Padmé. Even his most horrific act, the killing of the younglings, can be viewed through this lens — the clone troopers almost certainly would have killed the children anyway (we see them shoot a padawan in a later scene), so Anakin may have thought he was doing them a favor.
Once he arrives on Mustafar to finish off the Separatists, it also becomes clear that there is still a degree of conflict within the newly-christened Darth Vader. While he slaughters the Separatists, the audience sees Anakin’s eyes turn yellow, as if the hatred of the Dark Side has fully consumed him.
But after he finishes off Nute Gunray and steps out onto a balcony, granting a wide view of the flaming volcanic landscape, we see that Anakin’s eyes have gone back to normal. In fact, tears are coming out of them — the second such moment in the film.
This critical shot shows that Anakin understands what he has done. He knows that his acts have been wrong, that they have been against everything he was taught. But it is too late for him to turn back. He has chosen his path, and must stick to it. And if all the atrocities he has committed enable him to save Padmé, then it all might be worth it in the end. Right?
The Tragedy
In the Poetics, Aristotle describes his opinions on the literature of his time, including epic poetry, comedy theater, and, of course, tragedy.
Aristotle defines tragedy in Part VI as “an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude” that inspires emotions of “pity and fear” from the audience. But more critical for our purposes is his description of a tragedy’s protagonist, sometimes called the tragic hero: In Part XIII, Aristotle emphasizes that the hero of a perfect tragedy must be someone “who is not eminently good or just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty.”
That is, the hero’s downfall must not come from his willing committal of evil acts, but from a poor decision or a key character flaw — he or she can certainly perpetrate evil, but the distinction is why he or she did it. Only this kind of hero, Aristotle says, can inspire pity from “unmerited misfortune” and fear from “the misfortune of a man like ourselves.”
Examining everything that has been analyzed thus far, it becomes clear that Anakin almost completely aligns with this classic archetype of the tragic hero. And it is on Mustafar that the consequences of his “error or frailty” becomes fully realized.
Padmé decides to follow Anakin to the fiery planet, while Obi-Wan, who narrowly escaped being killed by his own clone troopers and is now aware of Anakin’s treachery, stows away on Padmé’s ship. Once Padmé arrives on Mustafar, she confronts Anakin about what Obi-Wan has told her, like the accusation that he has killed younglings. Anakin, of course, denies his actions, claiming Obi-Wan is trying to turn Padmé against him.
Anakin’s last conversation with Padmé perfectly encapsulates his motivations throughout the entire film — and displays his newfound delusions:
PADME: Anakin, all I want is your love.
ANAKIN: Love won’t save you, Padmé. Only my new powers can do that.
PADME: At what cost? You’re a good person, don’t do this!
ANAKIN: I won’t lose you the way I lost my mother. I've become more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of and I’ve done it for you. To protect you.
PADME: Come away with me. Help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can.
ANAKIN: Don’t you see, we don’t have to run away anymore! I have brought peace to the Republic. I am more powerful than the Chancellor. I–I can overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy! Make things the way we want them to be!
PADME: . . . I don’t believe what I’m hearing . . . Obi-Wan was right. You’ve changed.
ANAKIN: I don’t want to hear any more about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don’t you turn against me.
PADME: I don’t know you anymore. Anakin, you’re breaking my heart. You’re going down a path I can’t follow!
ANAKIN: Because of Obi-Wan?
PADME: Because of what you’ve done . . . what you plan to do.
Natalie Portman’s facial expressions help sell this scene, as Padmé slowly realizes how far Anakin has gone, how unlike he is to the man she married. But then Anakin sees Obi-Wan step out of Padmé’s ship, and he snaps.
“Liar!” he screams at as he chokes his own wife using the Force. “You’re with him! You brought him here to kill me!”
As Anakin lets Padmé go, at Obi-Wan’s urging, and lets her drop to the ground unconscious, anguish and regret flash across his face. Yet he chooses to blame Obi-Wan, shouting, “You turned her against me!”
Obi-Wan, as always, screams the truth straight into Anakin’s face: “You have done that yourself!”
The average viewer might claim that the peak of the film’s tragedy is at its end, when Anakin’s ravaged body is placed into the suit of Darth Vader. But I would argue the peak is in this moment, when Anakin attacks the very person he has been trying to save for the entire story.
It’s not explicitly stated, but it’s my impression that Anakin’s choking of Padmé helps contribute to her difficult pregnancy and untimely death. Thus, in a manner familiar to classical tragedy like ‘Oedipus Tyrannus,’ Anakin’s attempt to prevent his most feared outcome ended up causing that same outcome to occur, raising fascinating questions on the nature of fate versus free will in the Star Wars universe.1
But of course, Anakin’s actual fate is a horrible tragedy in and of itself. After Obi-Wan slices his legs off and leaves him to die on the surface of Mustafar, Anakin’s once young and attractive body is hideously disfigured by fire. He is saved by Palpatine, but becomes unrecognizable, a Frankenstein of man and machine.
Though Anakin gained his title of Darth Vader earlier in the film, it is only after he learns of Padmé’s death — and the apparent death of his children — that the Darth we know emerges. He resigns himself to being a pawn of Palpatine, having absolutely nothing else to live for, nothing else to do but act as a creature of pure rage and Dark Side energy. Anakin is gone, and Anakin has mostly himself to blame.
In conclusion, what are the takeaways from Anakin’s story, his fall to darkness?
Though the tragic hero archetype Lucas uses is a familiar one, he does apply it to a uniquely Star Wars story, involving the mysteries of the Force and the temptation of the Dark Side. Anakin Skywalker is at once Oedipus and Macbeth, a once good man trapped by fate, who commits horrible deeds to try and escape it. It’s a bold message for a film costing over $100 million and meant for general audiences. But I appreciate how Lucas trusts us to follow such a story, to engross ourselves in the drama even if we know a happy ending isn’t coming.
Evoking Aristotle, that Anakin’s fall emerges from such ostensibly good intentions — the protection of Padmé — helps inspire sympathy and pity from the audience. Yet we still know what he did was wrong; he let his love of Padmé and his fear of losing her become an obsession that clouded all other concerns, such as his loyalty to the Jedi. Overall, we can’t justify what Anakin did, but we can understand why he did it.
At the same time, the role of love or emotion is shown to be a double-edged sword when placed in the context of the Lucas’s six-film saga. The Jedi, for instance, suffered from a complete lack of compassion, and it is their emotional detachment that prevented them from being able to help Anakin, leaving him open to Sidious’s manipulations.
And of course, it is only thanks to Luke’s unconditional love for his father, and Anakin’s unconditional love for his son, that Sidious is defeated and balance is restored to the galaxy in ‘Return of the Jedi.’ Love itself is thus not the problem, but whether it is used for positive ends or to reinforce negative emotions.
Anakin’s story is the ultimate cautionary tale, and just as we need heroes like Luke to show us what to do, we need tragic heroes to show us what not to do, the two Skywalkers acting as perfect mirrors to each other. As a wise man once said, “it’s like poetry, they rhyme.”
(Part 2 on the film’s political themes will be posted here when finished)