#{mentality}

To understand the cultural divide, one must first dissect the American love for the Original Trilogy. The entire foundation of American nationhood is built on the story of revolution against the "Evil Empire" (Britain). For Western viewers, Star Wars is, first and foremost, a space Western and a Declaration of Independence embodied in the Force. It is a story of how individual heroism and the desire for freedom overwhelm an impersonal state machine

The original trilogy is, at its core, a high tale where good must triumph over evil. And although, according to the canon of Joseph Campbell's "The Many Faces of the Hero," Luke Skywalker's journey could have ended with a fall into darkness (which would have been a logical conclusion to the father-son cycle), Lucas made the right choice in rejecting such an ending. Luke refuses to accept the rules of this game. He doesn't kill his father to take his place, but throws away his lightsaber.At this moment, Luke Skywalker breaks the mythological cycle and chooses Mercy over Destiny. This ending offers hope that a brighter future is possible through personal choice

What's the point of all this? The point is that The Phantom Menace isn't just a prequel; it's the antithesis of the Original Trilogy. If the OT are the story of a victorious revolution, the Prequels are a chronicle of a slow, agonizing collapse.

In fact, Episode I is a deeply depressing film (in a good way). It reveals a terrible truth: slavery is rampant in the galaxy, and entire systems are at the mercy of gangsters. But the real horror isn't the corruption itself, but the fact that all the adult characters... simply live with it, accepting hell as a systemic fact.

In this world scorched by indifference, the only bearers of a living conscience are children. Padme, an idealist who is horrified by the Senate's impotence and for whom the existence of slavery in the galaxy is a shock. And Anakin, a child slave who has experienced the injustice of this world firsthand. Anakin dreams of becoming a Jedi for one purpose: to return and free the slaves. Shout out to all the idiots who call him "inherently evil." And in this story, Padme's victims of this world are the people of her planet, and Anakin and his mother are themselves victims of this world. and that is precisely why a perfect understanding of each other is built between the two of them, so much so that Anakin sees Padme's invisible sadness, and Padme, in turn, understands almost without words that Anakin misses his mother

Yes, many will remember Qui-Gon, but his tragedy is that he himself is part of this unjust system. He feels its injustice more keenly than others, but his hands are tied by "protocol." He is forced not to save, but to bargain for lives, to seek loopholes within the order, to rescue the Chosen One from slavery but leave his mother enslaved. In this sense, Qui-Gon is a truly "weak" and human character: he sees the abyss, sympathizes with it, but cannot close it

Obi-Wan's problem in TPM is his talent. He's young, brilliantly gifted, and, let's be honest, quite arrogant because of it. He is an ideal cog in the system, who is happy with everything. He has no regrets, no unresolved past conflicts, and so on. He genuinely believes, judging by himself, that if you're "right," you're happy. He sees his Master as the only problem in this sterile worldview. In his care, Obi-Wan wants Qui-Gon to simply "fit in," stop arguing with the Council, and find the same happiness he finds. And only through the catharsis of loss does Obi-Wan, essentially miserable in this world himself, take Anakin as his apprentice, tearing himself out of his comfort zone, become a better character.

So why did the first episode find such a warm reception in Russia, while remaining misunderstood in the USA?

It all comes down to the deep-seated codes of the Russian mentality. The Russian perception of the world has been built for centuries on Orthodoxy, the oldest Christian denomination. Classical European romanticism, with its tendency to embellish reality, is alien to the Russian spirit. For Russians, "the bitter truth is always better than a sweet lie," and the recognition that "reality is terrible, but it is real" is the only path to true purification.

Look at any classic hero from Dostoevsky to Tolstoy: their stories always echo with one thought: life is terrible, unfair, and often hopeless, but it is precisely in this suffering that the true Human is born