Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith – How Does It Hold Up 20 Years Later?

 

When Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith premiered in May 2005, it was heralded as the final chapter in a long-anticipated saga. George Lucas’ operatic conclusion to the prequel trilogy bore the burden of not only connecting the dots to the original Star Wars but also redeeming its uneven predecessors. Twenty years on, it is now widely accepted that Revenge of the Sith has aged better than most of its contemporaries—both within the Star Wars franchise and among blockbuster cinema at large.

Far from being just a visual spectacle or an obligatory bridge to the original trilogy, Revenge of the Sith has emerged as a dark, emotionally weighty film that dares to confront themes of loss, corruption, and the seductive nature of authoritarianism. With time, the initial criticisms surrounding its dialogue and pacing have faded into the background, and what remains is an ambitious tragedy that resonates far deeper than many gave it credit for in 2005.

A Galaxy in Free Fall: The Story’s Emotional Core

Set three years into the Clone Wars, the film opens with a stunning space battle that immediately sets a tone of chaos and urgency. The Republic teeters on the brink of collapse, and Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) finds himself torn between loyalty to the Jedi and growing disillusionment. Chancellor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) exploits Anakin’s fears, particularly his haunting visions of Padmé Amidala (Natalie Portman) dying in childbirth.

Lucas crafts Revenge of the Sith as an operatic tragedy in the classical sense. It is not about the triumph of good but the fall of a hero. Anakin’s transformation into Darth Vader is depicted not as a sudden flip of a switch, but as a slow, anguished descent. He doesn’t fall because he is evil; he falls because he is afraid, manipulated, and isolated. This nuanced portrayal has aged remarkably well, resonating with audiences in a time more attuned to stories about flawed protagonists and moral ambiguity.

Hayden Christensen and the Redemption of Performance

Hayden Christensen’s portrayal of Anakin was once ridiculed, largely due to Lucas’s stilted dialogue. But in retrospect, Christensen’s performance shines when viewed through the lens of a man consumed by internal conflict. His simmering intensity, particularly in scenes with McDiarmid’s Palpatine, now reads as intentionally uncomfortable—Anakin is a man unraveling. Christensen has since found renewed appreciation from fans, especially following his return in Obi-Wan Kenobi (2022), which reframed his earlier work in a more favorable light.

Ewan McGregor, as Obi-Wan Kenobi, delivers one of his finest performances in the trilogy. His growing concern for Anakin, reluctant obedience to the Jedi Council, and the emotional climax on Mustafar culminate in a devastating confrontation. The line “You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you,” lands with heart-wrenching force and has only gained more cultural weight with time.

Natalie Portman is given less to do than she deserves, but her quiet despair as she watches the Republic crumble adds depth to the film’s sense of loss. Ian McDiarmid, on the other hand, delivers an unforgettable, deliciously sinister performance as Palpatine, relishing every ounce of his transformation into the Emperor.

Visions of Darkness: Aesthetic and Cinematic Maturity

Of all six original films, Revenge of the Sith is arguably the most visually daring. The film veers into expressionistic territory—light and shadow dominate the frame, and colors shift as morality decays. From the fire-and-ash hellscape of Mustafar to the sterile, almost fascist architecture of the new Empire, Lucas uses digital filmmaking not merely for spectacle but to craft symbolic environments that reflect the inner turmoil of his characters.

John Williams delivers one of the most emotionally rich scores in his career, blending sweeping orchestral motifs with funereal tones. “Battle of the Heroes,” the piece that underscores Anakin and Obi-Wan’s final duel, is a masterclass in musical storytelling—heroism and tragedy colliding in one desperate composition.

The lightsaber duels, particularly the duel on Mustafar, have aged impressively. Though choreographed with operatic grandeur, the emotional stakes behind them remain raw and believable. Unlike the polished acrobatics of Attack of the Clones, Revenge of the Sith grounds its action in character conflict. The fighting isn’t just physical—it’s psychological and personal.

Political Parables and Timely Warnings

Lucas was often criticized for his on-the-nose political allegories, but those very critiques now seem short-sighted. “So this is how liberty dies… with thunderous applause” is no longer just a line of dialogue—it has become a warning and a prescient reflection of real-world political shifts.

The film’s depiction of a democratic society willingly surrendering its freedoms in the name of security is more relevant today than ever. Palpatine’s manipulation of fear to gain unchecked power, and the Jedi’s slow, bureaucratic failure to stop him, paints a disturbing portrait of systemic collapse. In hindsight, Lucas was not being ham-fisted—he was being bold.

Legacy and Cultural Reappraisal

At the time of release, Revenge of the Sith was met with cautious optimism. Critics acknowledged it was better than Episodes I and II, but few predicted the cultural reevaluation it would receive in the decades to come. Today, many fans consider it among the best Star Wars films ever made—often ranking just behind The Empire Strikes Back.

Part of this is generational. Fans who grew up with the prequels are now adults, and their nostalgic appreciation has influenced broader pop culture discourse. But it’s also because the film’s craftsmanship, ambition, and thematic complexity were underappreciated in 2005. Lucas’s vision has finally received the recognition it deserves.

Seeing this film in a theatre this past week was an exceptionally thrilling experience for me, especially as someone who grew up loving Star Wars but not being old enough to see any of the prequels. When The Phantom Menace came out in theatres I wasn’t even born yet, and by the time Attack of the Clones rolled its way into cinemas, I was just on the cusp of turning two. And as for Revenge of the Sith, I wasn’t even five yet.

The first Star Wars movie I ever got to see in a theatre was The Force Awakens when I was fifteen. So being able to see one of the most special and important movies in the franchise in theatres this past week really meant a lot to me. And I couldn’t help but be completely in awe of just how well it holds up twenty years later.

Final Thoughts

Revenge of the Sith is not just a worthy entry in the Star Wars saga—it is a cornerstone of the franchise. As time has passed, the film’s emotional weight, visual storytelling, and thematic depth have only grown more resonant. It marks the moment Star Wars embraced tragedy with full sincerity and artistic intent.

Twenty years later, Revenge of the Sith stands not just as a bridge between trilogies, but as a film that, despite its imperfections, dares to show us what happens when hope dies, when heroes fall, and when darkness wins. And in doing so, it ensures that the eventual rise of Luke Skywalker in A New Hope feels all the more miraculous.

A daring, operatic tragedy that improves with age, Revenge of the Sith is no longer just a redemption of the prequels—it is a vital, resonant chapter in the Star Wars mythos.