Just a friendly note to the programming executives over at the History Channel who green-lit the new documentary “Star Wars: The Legacy Revealed”: George Lucas’s epic popcorn crash course in Western civilization is a work of fiction. The only legacy revealed in this exhausting, self-aggrandizing DVD advertisement is that the “Star Wars” movies will endure as timeless archetypal myths, a veritable fact of nature repeated over and over again. Seeing as this weekend marks the 30th anniversary of 1977’s “Star Wars: A New Hope,” we can at least be assured they’ve lasted three decades.

This haughty thesis is confirmed by an endless parade of academics, cultural critics, journalists, and politicians, and clearly, 1,000 years from now, schoolchildren will be as bored by the “Star Wars” movies as their ancient counterparts were reading Homer, the Bible, or “Frankenstein.” The best part about predicting the future is never being around to find out.

The roster of talking heads employed to make the argument that the “Star Wars” saga is the modern myth we’ll be passing down for centuries is impressive, and includes the cultural critic Camille Paglia, satirist Stephen Colbert, fashion designer Marc Ecko, commentator Linda Ellerbee, and two, count ’em two, speakers of the House — Newt Gingrich and Nancy Pelosi. Mixed in are assorted religious and literary eggheads, and the entire chorus passionately argues the importance of these blockbuster morality tales. Much of it is convincing, especially when various Ph.D.s wax poetic and philosophical about the journey of the hero, the socio-political imagery, and the timeless concept of evil.

It is only the sincerity of these interviews that saves “Star Wars: The Legacy Revealed” from self-importance, but barely. The real failure of this borderline infomercial is its refusal to answer the really important questions: like why are Imperial Stormtroopers such lousy shots? And how can an X-wing fighter make screeching noises in the silent vacuum of space? And let’s not forget: How many marketing focus groups were required to design the despised, child-friendly Jar Jar Binks, who appeared in the recent “prequels”?

No matter its profound influence on pop culture, the historic impact of this fantastically profitable series of comic books, movies, cartoons, and action figures is a dubious one. The producers of this documentary offer comparisons to Faust and “Beowulf,” and draw a creative lineage from Buddha to Yoda. But critics could just as easily argue that the “Star Wars” movies’ role in history was simply to kill the golden age of 1970s American cinema. In one fell swoop of a light saber, the gritty realism of directors like William Friedkin, Robert Altman, and Martin Scorcese was supplanted by an aesthetic that favored loud, flashy escapism.

The last three films in Mr. Lucas’s series, 1999’s “The Phantom Menace,” 2002’s “Attack of the Clones,” and 2005’s “Revenge of the Sith,” cast a pall over the entire documentary. These “prequels” tell the story of the fall and rise of Darth Vader, and if not utterly reviled by fans, they are less than embraced. The original three films in the series are beloved, even with their ridiculous ’70s haircuts, rubber alien suits, amateur swordplay, and inelegant dialogue.

But they had soul and a scrappy earnestness, which the prequels strangely lacked. Poorly plotted, woodenly acted, and burdened by overwrought special effects, the prequels were proof of what happens to a director’s muscles when he doesn’t sit behind a camera for 20 years. And yet, every interviewee strives to recast these lesser movies as profound meditations on our current times and clever encapsulations of the past 3,000 years of Western civilization. I don’t know what it says when our entire literary tradition can be boiled down to a cartoon excuse to sell merchandise. It makes one wonder if Greek children ran around wearing Odysseus branded togas.

The most entertaining moments of this back-slapping affair come when modern politics is awkwardly addressed. At one point during “Revenge of the Sith,” when Anakin Skywalker is well on his way to becoming a galactic “pimp” (Elvis Mitchell’s term, not mine), the fallen Jedi says “If you’re not with me, you’re my enemy.” This line, of course, mirrors President Bush’s infamous line in the sand. If intentional, the reference in the movie would seem to betray Mr. Lucas’s desire for timelessness. Why insert a moment of topical nuance in what is basically a video game peppered with middlebrow symbolism stolen from the classics? Mr. Lucas has made a career of ignoring the real world. Why stop now?

Why do the “Star Wars” films have to be dissected as if they were big-screen versions of T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland”? In the end, “Star Wars: The Legacy Revealed” seems like damage control, an attempt by powerful Lucasfilm to rewrite history, especially when it comes to the execrable prequels — and what better place to do that than the History Channel? Why can’t these films be just what they are: moralizing adventures for little boys and overgrown ones who want to blow up aliens with their laser guns?