In my day, everyone knew he was the bad guy...

“I did something horrible the other night.”

I looked up from the brochure I was working on. Jasmine, usually so calm and composed, was fidgeting. “What did you do?”

“I let my son watch Revenge of the Sith.”

“Ah.” I nodded, knowingly. “How old is he?”

“Six.”

I whistled. “Ouch.” After seeing Sith in theatres, I had warned all of my friends with kids under the age of eleven to steer clear unless they could watch and evaluate first.

Jasmine shook her head. “It really upset him. He always wants to be Anakin when the kids play Jedi.”

“It’s not your fault,” I assured her. “You didn’t know.” Though you might have suspected after he slaughtered that village of sand people in the last movie, I silently added.

She said something else and I nodded, but my mind was already elsewhere. I was thinking that her story perfectly illustrated one of the biggest hurdles faced by the prequels. It wouldn’t have mattered if the stories were flawless (they weren’t) or if the films were executed perfectly (see note on stories), it would have been difficult for me to emotionally invest myself in Darth Vader – and we all know that’s what little Ani is going to become.

One film showing Anakin’s descent into darkness would have been interesting. Three films relying on me cheering for him as the anti-hero just didn’t sit right.