The critics are hacking at the new installment of the "Star Wars" saga, "Attack of the Clones," like light-sabers through a droid. But such criticism should be extended beyond the failings of one filmmaker -- to a larger commentary on the fate of film as an art form.

Movies, the cultural signature of the 20th century, are losing market -- and mind -- share to upstart technologies that offer more excitement and engagement to audiences. And so one day in the 21st century, after the last "Star Wars" movie has been put out to galactic pasture, the humble video game will take its place in the high pantheon. "Clones," which opened last week, got clanged. Under the headline "Attack of the Groans," Newsweek's David Ansen called the fifth "Star Wars" movie "a decidedly mixed bag." The Chicago Sun-Times' Roger Ebert left a screening without hearing "one line of quotable, memorable dialogue."

Whereas appealing characters and mythic themes were the strengths of the original "Star Wars" trilogy, released from 1977 to 1983, the last two movies have been buried in plot and politics. To make sense of it all, characters now discourse on campaign-finance reform: "Not another lecture," one begs, "at least not on the economics of politics." But director George Lucas plows ahead heedlessly. His imagination has failed him.

Although set in another galaxy far away, "Clones" owes deep visual debt to such earthbound image banks as the Roman Empire and Art Deco. Will alternate universes have Coliseum-type gladiatorial combats and Chrysler Building skylines?

It's this failure of imagination -- the failure to imagine new things -- that undercuts not only this movie but movies in general.

Movies no longer pack the same pop-culture punch that they did even a decade or two ago. Why? Because much of the creative energy and technical brilliance that once flowed out of Hollywood studios now flows out of video-game design companies in Silicon Valley or Japan.

Young audiences already know this. According to the Minneapolis-based National Institute on Media and the Family, 92 percent of Americans under 18 play electronic games. Business Week reports that video-game revenues now exceed Hollywood's take.

But will young people come back to movies as they grow older? Maybe, but it's likely that video games will grow up with their fans. Sony's EverQuest, for example, is already a breakthrough for interactive storytelling, in which thousands of online players battle rogues, trolls and beastlords. And when a broadband Internet connection comes into every home, a whole age cohort will probably demand interactive participation as part of the show.

Can movies keep pace with games? Will film go the way of other faded art forms, such as classical music or pastoral poetry? Some future fusion between the big and small screens is possible, but as the "Star Wars" series flickers out, it's clear that the Force is no longer with George Lucas.