Does Christopher Lee ever turn down a job? I mean, seriously, animated Count Dooku? Animated Count Dooku in a robotic merchandising machine that looks like a Thunderbirds video game except less lifelike? You're better than this, Lee. (But while we're chatting, will you come to my birthday party for $50? I'll throw in unlimited Doritos.)

Lee's voice is the only good thing about Star Wars: The Clone Wars (awesome title, guys), which nonetheless brought out the fans in all their splendor. There were Stormtroopers. There were lightsabers. There were Jedis, young and old. A few rows ahead of me sat a green-skinned bald woman, whom I later identified—thanks, internet—as a certain Dark Jedi named Asajj Ventress, the villain of the film. Asajj Ventress snacked on a sinister bag of popcorn.

So there's some sort of war going on. The good guys need help from Jabba the Hutt to defeat the bad guys. But apparently somebody snatched up Jabba the Hutt's squeaking turd—I mean baby son—Something-or-Other the Hutt! (Question for the nerds: Who and what and where is Mrs. the Hutt? Because if I remember my Return of the Jedi correctly, Jabba the Hutt's Boner the Hutt was primarily interested in space babes of the human variety. Can Mrs. the Hutt fit into that brass bikini?)

"AAAAHH! EE WONKO KOKA OO CHOBEE!" says Jabba. "BABA LOOGAAH JEDI GLEE GLAAH JABBABABA! CHODA GLAH GLAH BABABABABABABA LOOGAH!" And the Jedis are all, "Sure, Jabba, we'll get your stinky baby back!" Then there's lots of sarcastic swordplay banter ("I'm impressed." "Now you die." "Shall we continue?" "My pleasure"), stuff blows up, we meet Jabba's Southern gay uncle, Meshach Taylor the Hutt, and everything turns out just fine. "GAAH BLAGAH CHOGEE MABBA JEDI LODEEEEEGABA! DOGEEBEE OH LOO TOHLOO GAGA," Jabba points out. "GOBEE LABLAH OO GAGA BLEEBLAH!" Gobee lablah oo gaga bleeblah to you too, Jabba. Gobee lablah oo gaga bleeblah indeed.