How painful must it be to see Stormtrooper dumping rounds into Luke only to watch him swat them away like Serena freakin Williams?
It's kinda tragic in a way. They must have been some kind of sane to make it as far as they got, but by the time the hero confronts them, they're raving mad and probably not from congenital mental issues, but from watching this fudge-face do impossible crap repeatedly.
At one point you want to blame it on completely inept bad guys. Though deserving of this in many cases, is it really them we should blame. We all know that hero's somehow pull fate around them- twisting chance to their advantage. Maybe those legions of fodder aren't as bad as they seem. They did conquer whole kingdoms, nations, and galaxies right? But when they get to the hero they degenerate to bowling pins.
And if I were the head villain- bound to be either agnostic or severely anti-God, you got to be thinking that in all his life he's had to make his own way. He really did make himself. He did it against all the odds. And here comes the muddasucka riding in on fate's red carpet. He meets all the right people, makes all the right moves, get's just the right thing, and now you're sweating. What? Is my shoe-laces going to become untied during our sword-fight? Am I going to slip and fall off a roof-top? Do I have cancer? What sick sort of bull is fate going to pull to hand the win to this guy? And why's he so freaking happy all the time? Seriously...