Natalie Portman as Queen Amidala

As poor reviews of Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace have saturated the media during the past few weeks, you can't help but feel bad for the poor schumck waiting on line in front of the Ziegfeld Theater. With his worn-and-torn Wookie T-shirt, toy lightsaber and Trivial Pursuit StarWars edition by his side, this guy has suffered for weeks on 54th Street, agonizing through the rain and eating Cheetos instead of home-cooked meals while hanging onto the promise of Lucas's genius to make his wait worthwhile. And as he desperately tries to find fleeting moments of tranquility by imagining the wonderworlds of this new sci-fi universe, he finds personalities from every news show on TV stepping on his sleeping bag while sticking a microphone in his face asking him: "So how do you feel that Lucas appears to have made a bust?" While the majority of the line is sharing a sense of community so strong they probably feel they could take on the Empire by themselves, they also must be filled with some doubt. They are asking themselves: "How can it live up to expectations?" "Will it be worth the wait?" "Will I ever be able to get this putrid street smell out of my hair?" They should have no fear. While the beginning quarter of the most anticipated film of all time is enough to make you wish for a quick death by Wampa, Lucas shows enough gusto to turn The Phantom Menace into a massive crowdpleaser and essential puzzle-piece to his pop-culture-altering saga.

Yes, Episode I The Phantom Menace does begin with a thud. Two Jedis, Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor, for once not showing his penis) travel to the pastoral world of Naboo to assist young Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman) with a trade blockage. The liaisons between Naboo and the corrupt Federation – idiotic looking aliens with thick old-school Hollywood Asian accents – rate as the most unimpressive creature creations to come out of the Skywalker universe and should get some PC group outraged. The Jedis are soon double crossed by them, which gives them a chance to show off their flashy new lightsaber moves (how come Luke never made it look this good?). The Jedis barely escape, but probably wish they were slain after they meet up with Jar Jar Binks, a goofy alien sidekick that looks like a cross between the EPCOT mascot Figment and a warped giraffe. Speaking in an undecipherable, ganga-stained Rastafarian babble, he guides them along to a flashy underwater city, where they devise a plan to get the Queen off the planet pronto.

Yoda

This twenty-five minute stretch, which basically runs the major characters in circles, is horrendously grating. However, George Lucas wastes no time proving his technological vision is still stunning. The spacecrafts are amazingly realistic and the alien life that interacts with humans is more convincing than half of the actors in Hollywood today. Meanwhile, panoramic views of Naboo swarm with life, burying boring matte backgrounds forever. But the dialogue that dominates these scenes is stale and passionless. The image of Jinn and Kenobi decked in their robes is a giddy stunner but when they open their mouths, these masters of the universe sound clueless. Queen Amidala may have a funky accent that seems like Madonna trying to imitate an English nanny, but her politics are nowhere near as arresting as Leia's passion pleas for help. As for Jar Jar, two words: Shut up.

Soon, Banks, the Queen, Jinn, Kenobi and R2-D2 (who has the most forced, unnatural introduction in the film) land on good old Tatooine and then stumble upon young Anakin Skywalker (played by the then 8-year-old Jake Lloyd). Lloyd immediately exposes Lucas's awkward direction around less experienced actors (The filmmaker should still be thanking God every day for handing him Harrison Ford). And the Velveeta dialogue doesn't help Lloyd become any more endearing.

Liam Neeson as the Venerable Jedi Knight

But Lucas wises up quickly. He switches on his action boosters after Anakin enters a pod race, which has already been likened to the space age's take on Ben-Hur's chariot race. This sequence is simply the most exciting film action of the decade. As the race begins, a double-headed racecaster brings ESPN alive in a galaxy far far away. Then the twenty rocket pods roar with diverse engine sounds. In a flash, they're off and as the pods speed over the desert dunes while an audience of Jedis, random bizarros and those pesky Sand People cheer them on, Lucas proves again that he (along with pal Steven Spielberg) tower over the other adventure directors of his age. There's enough velocity here to make your face feel windburned.

Whether it's the drama concerning Anakin's future (a younger looking Yoda can sense trouble) or the four-tiered battle royale that concludes the film, the remainder of Phantom Menace more than makes up for its poor start. The only lingering negative is the lack of a truly villainous force to put the fear of God into the audience the way Vader so often did. Tattoo-fiend Darth Maul, who has already taken on a cult following reminiscent of Boba Fett's, does make a strong impression in his few scenes; his lightsaber war with Obi-Wan and Qui-Con truly brings the house down. But the character begs to be exploited even further. As for the Emperor, he's shown as a corrupt government official that still has to stumble upon the Dark Side and fails to provide a good scare.

But you know that Lucas will tap into hatred further down the line. And that promise is sure to make Phantom Menace become appreciated more in hindsight. The moment he shifts the story away from plot mechanic hodgepodge, he makes the movie's objective perfectly clear: Besides entertainment, this is a major league set-up vehicle. When Jinn senses that Anakin is the chosen one, all we can begin to ponder is how he will evolve into a space Adolph by middle age. When Obi-Wan meets Anakin, all we can think is that old Ben will eventually be a Jedi shish kebab on the end of Vader's lightsaber. This sense of impending doom from Anakin the Wonderboy makes Phantom Menace deliciously mysterious and thrilling. It also promises that the next two episodes will be darker than anything in Empire Strikes Back's universe. Plus, McGregor, who finally gets to dig into Ben's sandals near the end, will surely be set loose in the future. There's sure to be romance too; Amidala may be ten years older than Anakin but – age difference or not – you know they will eventually get it on and have little Lukes and Leias running around the house.

Put simply, Phantom Menace is a return to the glory of Star Wars. There's a majesty to Lucas's take on fantasy that audiences have been deprived of for far too long. No special effect is on the screen without a mission to transport you away. And best of all, there are no Ewoks to be found. Get the word out to the unshowered schmuck waiting at the Ziegfeld: The smell is worth it.