Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
Those poor souls who've been camping out in front of theaters for six weeks: Who can blame them for saying, "To hell with the critics, we know it will be great!"? The doors will open, and they'll race to grab the best seats and feel a surge of triumph as their butts sink down. We've made it: Yeeehaww!! They'll cheer when the familiar John Williams fanfare erupts and the title-- Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace --rises out of the screen and the backward-slanted opening "crawl" begins: "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ..." Yaaahhhhhhh!!! Then, their hearts pounding, they'll settle back to read the rest of the titles: "Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute." Taxation of trade routes: Waaahoooo!!!! How long will they go with it? At what point will they realize that what they've heard is, alas, true, that the picture really is a stiff? Maybe they never will. Maybe they'll want to love The Look, I wanted to love The Phantom Menace , too. I was an adolescent boy and would enjoy being one again for a couple of hours. But the movie has a way of deflating all but the most delusional of hopes. If someone had given Ed Wood $115 million to remake Plan Nine From Outer Space it might have looked like this, although Wood's dialogue would surely have been more memorable. A hologram of Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the "Sith," commands the Federation to sic its battle droids on the Jedi ambassadors before they can apprise Queen Amidala (Portman) of the imminent invasion of the peaceful planet of Naboo. In come the battle droids and out come the light sabers, which still hum like faulty fluorescents. Clack, clack, clack. Lucas can't edit fight scenes so that they're fluid--he cuts on the clack. You get the gist, though. The Jedi make their getaway, but with gas and tolls and droid destroyers, it takes them over an hour to land on Naboo, by which time the queen and the Galactic Senate have already got the grim message. For one thing, communications have been disrupted: "A communications disruption can mean only one thing," says someone. "Invasion." Queen Amidala, done up like a white-faced Chinese empress in hanging beads and glass balls and a hat with curly horns, speaks in tones from which emotion has been expunged, perhaps on the theory that subjects won't argue with a ruler who puts them to sleep: "I ... will ... not ... condone ... a ... course ... of ... action ... that ... will ... lead ... us ... to ... war," she drones. Meanwhile, the Jedi whiz through the underwater core of a planet in a man-of-warlike submersible pursued by 3-D dragony beasties and a giant catfish with extra movable parts. Potentially thrilling stuff, but Neeson and McGregor remain peculiarly unruffled. "The Force will guide us," says Neeson blandly, and the director seems to share his lack of urgency. There's Zen detachment and there's Quaalude detachment, and The Phantom                 Menace falls into the second camp: It really does take place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. When R2-D2 showed up, I thought: At last, a character with the potential for intimacy! Say this for Lucas, he doesn't whip up a lot of bogus energy, the way the makers of such blockbusters as The Mummy (1999) and Armageddon (1998) do. It's as if he conceived The Phantom Menace as a Japanese No pageant and has purposely deadened his actors, directing them to stand stiffly in the dead center of the screen against matte paintings of space or some futuristic metropolis and deliver lines alternately formal or bemusing. ("This is an odd move for the Trade Federation.") Lucas considers himself an "independent" filmmaker and an artist of integrity. Had he not been such a pretentious overlord, a platoon of screenwriters would doubtless have been engaged to rewrite him and make the movie halfway human. A buddy specialist would have punched up the Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi badinage, and a black dialogue specialist would have given the comic-relief character, Jar Jar Binks, a man-size dinosaur with pop eyes and a vaguely West Indian patois, something fresher than "Ex-squeeze me!" and a lot of Butterfly McQueen-style simpering and running away from battles. Those of us who complain about the assembly-line production of "blockbuster" scripts need an occasional reminder that assembly lines can do much to make empty thrill machines more lively. Yes, the effects are first-rate, occasionally breathtaking. But the floating platforms in the Galactic Senate do little to distract you from parliamentary machinations that play like an especially dull day on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine . The final military engagement, in which long-headed attack droids are rolled onto the field as the spokes of a giant wheel, would be awesome if Lucas didn't routinely cut away from the battle just when he seems on the verge of actually thrilling you. The chief villain, bombastically named Darth Maul, is a horned, red, Kabuki-style snake demon with orange pingpong-ball eyes who challenges the Jedi to a couple of clackety light-saber battles. His appearances are underscored by demonic chants he might as well wear a neon beanie that flashes "Bad Guy." Like all revisionist historians, Lucas cheats like mad. If Darth Vader had built C-3PO as a young man, how come he never paid much attention to him in the other movies--and vice versa? As Yoda himself puts it, in another context, "See through you we can." Still, it's worth reprinting a blistering e-mail sent to my wife by a relative, after she'd let him know that I hated The Phantom Menace : Surprise, Surprise. Star Wars was never reviewed well by critics. Sometimes a basic story that rests on great special effects and stupid dialogue can be very entertaining--it's called a cult movie, and no critic can have an effect on the obvious outcome that this is going to be the highest grossing movie ever. I myself stood in line for five hours and already have tickets to see it three times, and I know I'll enjoy it. Why? Because it plays on my childhood imagination. And I'm sure it's not as bad as Return of the Jedi , which was the weakest one--but I still liked it and saw it a dozen times. I get tired of being told I'm not going to like it because it doesn't adhere to certain basic critic criteria. I say bpthhhh (sticking my tongue out to review)--don't be sending me anything dissing my movie:):):) I'll be curious to know whether he sees The Phantom Menace a dozen times, or even the three for which he has paid. (I could imagine seeing it three times only if they sold adrenaline shots at the concession stand.) Or maybe he'll come out of the movie and say: "No, you didn't get it, Mr. Snot-Nosed-Criteria Critic Person. It's not supposed to be exciting. It's laying the foundation for the next chapter, when Anakin and Obi-Wan defeat the Mandalorian warriors in the Clone Wars and Anakin marries Queen Amidala. And listen, I'm getting in line even earlier for tickets to Episode 2 . The Force is with me, butt-head."

<question>:
What change does the critic think would have the biggest impact on the quality of the film?

<options>:
A Change the setting
B More writers should have worked on the script
C The acting should be better
D Change the primary villain

<answer>:

B