tldr:; Nothing someone else hasn't thought somewhere. Born in 73, and raising a glass to the +40s. I owe this place a debt of gratitude for my time here in mid-1999 through late 2000, because wrapping your mind around the source materials of SW, its modern interpretations, criticisms, and contexts, and trying to apprehend the erudite arguments of clearly college-educated posters, was an irreplaceable training ground for critical thinking. I got my ass handed to me many times for unexamined assumption or misconception, frequently along the fault lines of gender and class. In May 1999, The Matrix and TPM had come out. I had just escaped a pretty horrible domestic situation and I was right on time for these two movies, one about birth to a newly discovered external reality, and one about the unveiling of a darker interior reality within the context of an expanded physical horizon. Bookends, if you will. But I only needed to see The Matrix twice. I did in fact "need to" see TPM front to back 12 times in theatres, after which every time I would sneak back into the later showing to catch the start of the Battle of Naboo. Why did I need to-. TPM had the greatest promise, had two decades of momentum and fan support built up behind it, had every actor (other than Lloyd) steaming ahead, every fibre of Ben Burt, every strain of John Williams, every sinew of martial artist Ray Park, and the mighty dedication to swordfighting Ewan McGregor. What I needed, and what TPM delivered to me, and what AOTC and ROTS could not deliver to me, was an extended lightsabre battle of the intensity, duration, finesse and chthonic musical catharsis that my own little mind ever imagined the franchise of a galaxy far far away was capable of. That's mainly it - the extended, properly grueling, properly gut-wrenching, light sabre battle. Needed to see it 25 times. Added to that was a rich panoply of characters and physical sets and matte paintings, accents, stage props, costumes, fabrics, lighting, biomes, etc. (a dash of CGI...) At some point... I had seen TPM in theatres enough. (Frell, I was even taking notes on the movie towards the end.) I had discovered TFN as I was looking for ways to process this new, inexplicable Jar Jar thing. I eventually recognized many cogent arguments against TPM aside from what bugged me. It is still the movie I have gone back to over the intervening years as my Gungan safe/sacred place. It was my bacta tank and I floated in it for many months.