My love affair with Star Wars stopped with Episode III. I was willing to put aside my issues with the weak, convoluted screenplays to Episode I and II, in the hopes that the third installment would tie every thing up nicely. It didn't. In this fan's opinion, Episode III felt just as disconnected to the previous two films as those felt to each other. I'd had enough of Star Wars.

I've only slightly recovered from the 2005 release of Episode III. It doesn't make me angry anymore, but I have little to no interest in the universe I once loved, and that makes me a little bit sad. I can still watch the original trilogy, and appreciate them as films, but I'm not buying the toys, the shirts, the bedsheets, the video games, the kitchen appliances, or the lingerie. My interest in the trappings of Star Wars fandom seems to be dead forever.

I wonder how much of my feelings on Star Wars and its creator George Lucas affected my enjoyment of Alexandre Phillipe's documentary The People Vs. George Lucas. I've not only internalized most of the thoughts conveyed in the film, I've had some of the exact same discussions with my friends that are presented here. Why did George Lucas add so much unnecessary crap to the Special Editions? Why did The Phantom Menace disappoint so much? And what's the deal with Jar Jar Binks?

I assumed based on the title of the film that Phillipe was going to present arguments as they would be presented in a courtroom, but apart from calling some of the fans in the film "witnesses" for the defense and prosecution, he never follows through on that gimmick. Instead, The People Vs. George Lucas consists of talking head interviews with angry fans and Lucas apologists, interspersed with lively footage from dozens of Star Wars fan films. I'd have preferred a faux-courtroom approach, one that structures the film based on key arguments and evidence instead of random nitpicking over things like the worth of Darth Vader's "NOOOOOOOO!" at the end of Revenge of the Sith.

I'd imagine that if you're still a fan -- still willing to argue over things like midichlorians and Han shooting first -- that The People will feel validating in some way. I'm not the fan I once was, so these arguments hold little interest to me anymore. What I am interested in, and what the film doesn't get into deep enough for my tastes, are the arguments over an artist's right to continue to change his own art after it becomes part of the cultural landscape. Does the work belong to the people once it's unleashed on the world?

Part of the problem lies in Phillipe's access to Lucas himself, which is limited to archival footage and biographical anecdotes. By interviewing fans, almost exclusively, the movie largely becomes a Star Wars bitch session. I've had these bitch sessions with pals; I understand the frustration, but does it make for a compelling movie? I'm not so sure about that. I wouldn't expect audiences to enjoy the conversation I had on the way home from Episode III, five years ago, but that's pretty much what you get here.

While I may have a problem with the meat of Phillipe's documentary, I have no issues with how it's plated. It's a consistently good-looking doc, with high production values and some inspired editing. Phillipe may have ended up making a very good fan film with The People, even if it's uneven as a stand-alone documentary. For the fans still playing Force Unleashed and DVRing The Clone Wars every week, it's a must-see. For disillusioned fans like myself, it's a unnecessary reminder of the things you hate about a thing you used to love.