For better because: Can you imagine dialogue like this without the whooshy distractions? Consider the admonition of Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) to his teen-age charge, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen): "We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner." This is how characters talk in pseudo-Brit historical epics of the '30s and '40s. Apart from campy interjections during action sequences ("This is why I hate flying!"), the tone throughout is solemnly portentous, the diction public even in private, the characters aquiver with a patrician sense of duty. The love duets between Christensen and Natalie Portman as Sen. Padmé Amidala, the former Queen of Naboo, are of a high twittiness. I cannot imagine a crueler thing to do to an actor than give him a declaration like, "You are in my very soul, tormenting me." It could only work in the fey tones of Marlon Brando's Fletcher Christian. It doesn't at all in Christensen's peculiar Canadian singsong—although there's something searching in the young actor's woodenness, as if he's chafing, like his rash apprentice Jedi, against the constraints of his role. His readings are dead (his voice sounds as if it dropped yesterday), but his eyes are angrily alive. And he's all by himself on screen. Portman is madly sexy in her stretchy white, navel-baring warrior get-up (she's unencumbered by the curly horns of her Naboo queenship), but that robotic monotone would ice down the most erotically fevered suitor.