By Blake Tan, Editor
A blast of trumpets, triumphant and glorious, heralding the trail of expositional text against the stark backdrop of stars. The audience will clap enthusiastically, young children clambering onto their parents’ laps – some in brown costume robes, rat-tail braids clipped behind their ears, waving plastic, light-up laser swords – as the music builds to crescendo. Fresh-faced, plucky, young heroes will go toe-to-toe with a galaxy-spanning menace, and CGI space ships will go kablooey in glorious 3D.
And I could care less.
Take me back ten years ago, heck, make it five – wait, let’s go crazy – two years ago, I never imagined that I would be so underwhelmed when Disney acquired LucasFilms for $4 billion and announced that they would be making “Star Wars: Episode VII.” Not even the news that the original cast would be tapped to reprise their roles in some manner could shake me from my apathetic delirium.
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| Whoop-dee-freaking-do. |
Disney taking over the helm of the Star Wars franchise was only the latest installment to a long-running series of disappointments. Han’s in the carbonite and this time no amount of luck or good, old-fashioned heroic feats are going to get him out. My disillusionment has numbed me to Star Wars’ plight. A franchise I once loved as dearly as teenage girls adored “Twilight” (or conversely, adolescent boys and any action flick with boobies) teeters on the edge of artistic ruin, and I could hardly care. Star Wars is dying, people, it’s time to take it off life support and give it the dignity of a good death.
But let me go back to the beginning, back in those innocent, bright-eyed days when you could find me discussing the differences between a Victory-class Star Destroyer, which was created from older Star Destroyer concept art, and an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, the design most recognizable from the original trilogy, and the relative merits of the two starships, as well as how an Imperial admiral could most effectively deploy them in battle and how a Rebel commander could counter them with a ragtag fleet of starfighters and light escorts.
But let me go back to the beginning, back in those innocent, bright-eyed days when you could find me discussing the differences between a Victory-class Star Destroyer, which was created from older Star Destroyer concept art, and an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, the design most recognizable from the original trilogy, and the relative merits of the two starships, as well as how an Imperial admiral could most effectively deploy them in battle and how a Rebel commander could counter them with a ragtag fleet of starfighters and light escorts.
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| Photo courtesy of the nerds over at 501st Imperial Legion. |
Suffice it to say, I know my Star Wars. I was a frequent visitor of Wookieepedia, a wiki that rivals the actual Wikipedia in size and material. I cross-referenced sourcebooks mentioned on the site, tracking them down in my local library or borrowing them from my fellow nerd-enthusiasts. I read as much Star Wars Expanded Universe novels that I could get my grubby hands on. Grand Master Luke Skywalker in the Swarm War trilogy is the culmination of years of build-up to seeing all of his training, from his humble beginnings in A New Hope to his trials and temptations in the Dark Empire comics, finally pay off. But my personal favorite character was always Wedge Antilles. Here was a guy who attacked the Death Star not just once, but twice, surviving both ordeals and eventually earning a reputation as one of the greatest pilots in the galaxy – and Wedge doesn’t have some hokey religion backing him up either. I was, by all definitions of the word, a fanboy.
The prequel trilogy, Episodes I through III, should have clued me in that something rotten was in the heart of Lucas Films. The uninspired, rootless plot of The Phantom Menace, the over-acting by Hayden Christiansen’s Anakin in Attack of the Clones, and the general melodrama of Revenge of the Sith – the symptoms were all there. Original trilogy loyalists cried foul, painting the prequel trilogy as desecrations of what was once a holy name. At the time, I dismissed these lunatics as pretentious, know-it-all buffoons who didn’t understand Star Wars.
Oh, what a fool I was.
Before my Star Wars epiphany, my Force vision, if you will, visited unto me by the ghosts of Alec Guinness and Irvin Kershner, I believed Star Wars was about the Jedi, the Sith, the clones, the Separatists, the droids, the Rebel Alliance, the Galactic Empire, Force powers, blasters, X-wings, TIE fighters, Star Destroyers, and battles. Lots and lots of battles. You’ll have to forgive me – I was a young man of fifteen, and nothing got the blood boiling like pew-pew, explosions, and wind blowing heroically through your hair.
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| Call me a purist, but this is the real ending to Return of the Jedi. |
Blake, you say, or if you’re fluent in Mando’ade, you di’kut, this – all of this – is what makes Star Wars, Star Wars. If we didn’t have X-wings or the Millenium Falcon, or the deserts of Tatooine or the ice-planet Hoth, or Jedi or Sith, we would just be another sci-fi movie. Or worse, we would be Star Trek.
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| Whether Star Wars or Star Trek is superior will probably never be answered — J.J. Abrams could just turn it all on its head. He has that power now. |
My response: “Verd ori’shya beskar’gam.” A warrior is more than his armor. If you took the three prequel films, the most recent animated feature, The Clone Wars (include the accompanying television series at your discretion), and stripped them of their armor, their trappings that recognizably make them Star Wars, what do you get? Answer: a bunch of half-starved, empty husks of movies that would be mediocre at best.
A film is more than its fancy CGI or, when it comes to something like Star Wars, its IP. The Phantom Menace should stand on its own if we took the all-caps Star Wars nameplate off it. The Empire Strikes Back taught me that. Go ahead, watch a side-by-side comparison of those two films. Episode I is shinier by comparison – hey, look, there’s more lightsabers, more Jedi, wow, this should be great! – but let it sink it.
Irvin Kershner was handed the directorial reins for Episode V and it was one of the last good moves by George Lucas before he slipped into a coma (I’d rather delude myself into thinking old Georgie has been replaced by a body-double all these years rather than believe that he has been cognizant of everything that’s happened to his IP). Kershner understood that Empire couldn’t rest on the laurels of the original film, or it’d slide into bantha poodoo. He strove to create a film that built upon the foundation set up by Star Wars (I refuse to call it A New Hope except for clarification) but would reach for greater heights.
And the man succeeded. The Empire Strikes Back is far and away the best-made film of the entire franchise. The moments of drama, the action, the humor, and the romance are all balanced perfectly. Empire is the franchise’s best film, and I’ll fight you to the death on the surface of Sernpidal circa 25 ABY if you disagree.
A film is more than its fancy CGI or, when it comes to something like Star Wars, its IP. The Phantom Menace should stand on its own if we took the all-caps Star Wars nameplate off it. The Empire Strikes Back taught me that. Go ahead, watch a side-by-side comparison of those two films. Episode I is shinier by comparison – hey, look, there’s more lightsabers, more Jedi, wow, this should be great! – but let it sink it.
Irvin Kershner was handed the directorial reins for Episode V and it was one of the last good moves by George Lucas before he slipped into a coma (I’d rather delude myself into thinking old Georgie has been replaced by a body-double all these years rather than believe that he has been cognizant of everything that’s happened to his IP). Kershner understood that Empire couldn’t rest on the laurels of the original film, or it’d slide into bantha poodoo. He strove to create a film that built upon the foundation set up by Star Wars (I refuse to call it A New Hope except for clarification) but would reach for greater heights.
And the man succeeded. The Empire Strikes Back is far and away the best-made film of the entire franchise. The moments of drama, the action, the humor, and the romance are all balanced perfectly. Empire is the franchise’s best film, and I’ll fight you to the death on the surface of Sernpidal circa 25 ABY if you disagree.
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| Oh, why is Han crying, you ask? Hm. I won't spoil it for you, but it is sad. |
Star Wars is more than itself. It stands for something beyond the merchandising, beyond the cool props, the actors (yeah, even you, Harrison Ford, you handsome devil you), the fantastical settings, and the flashy starships.
It’s about storytelling, plain and simple, and I don’t mean the thinly-veiled attempt at political commentary in Attack of the Clones (Natalie Portman, you’re wonderful, but your “This is how democracy dies – with thunderous applause” line is a bit much, don’t you think?). Star Wars was about a young man, yanked from a dusty homestead on a moisture farm to answer the call to adventure. He learns of a unifying Force, larger than himself, larger than the galaxy, that binds it all together. He makes new friends: a scruffy, lovable rogue, a pair of quirky droids, a loyal, bear-like alien with the tendency to only wear a bandolier as clothes, and an old wizard who hopes to guide him on his quest. Along the way, through Empire and Return of the Jedi, the young man must face the inner demons, the darkness within all of us, before he can save the entire galaxy from eternal damnation.
That story spoke to people across all demographics: the old, the young, boys, girls, and people of every race, creed, or culture. This is what Joseph Campbell called the Monomyth, the story of us all. Star Wars is the retelling of the myths that have guided mankind since our birth in a modern way.
Somewhere along the line, Lucas forgot about that. He forgot about the message he’d internalized and wanted to spread with Star Wars, distracted by the grossly, Jabba the Hutt-level wealth the franchise has brought him. Somehow, the dark side had gotten a hold on his heart.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. Maybe, the acquisition of the IP by Disney is a step in the right direction to bringing Star Wars back to what it originally meant. Choosing J.J. Abrams to helm Episode VII isn’t a bad idea; after all, he did wonders with Star Trek and (hopefully) Star Trek Into Darkness. Maybe, he’s the Chosen One. But, like the believer Qui-Gon Jinn, the fanboy in me is dead, killed by Darth Lucas. Now, I’m more like Mace Windu, grouchy Samuel L. Jackson, doubtful but still wanting to believe. Help us, J.J. Abrams, you’re our only hope. It’s time to bring balance back to the Force.
P.S. If you haven't seen this yet, you should.
It’s about storytelling, plain and simple, and I don’t mean the thinly-veiled attempt at political commentary in Attack of the Clones (Natalie Portman, you’re wonderful, but your “This is how democracy dies – with thunderous applause” line is a bit much, don’t you think?). Star Wars was about a young man, yanked from a dusty homestead on a moisture farm to answer the call to adventure. He learns of a unifying Force, larger than himself, larger than the galaxy, that binds it all together. He makes new friends: a scruffy, lovable rogue, a pair of quirky droids, a loyal, bear-like alien with the tendency to only wear a bandolier as clothes, and an old wizard who hopes to guide him on his quest. Along the way, through Empire and Return of the Jedi, the young man must face the inner demons, the darkness within all of us, before he can save the entire galaxy from eternal damnation.
That story spoke to people across all demographics: the old, the young, boys, girls, and people of every race, creed, or culture. This is what Joseph Campbell called the Monomyth, the story of us all. Star Wars is the retelling of the myths that have guided mankind since our birth in a modern way.
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| If the new movie makes me feel half as many emotions as this image does, then it might be a success. Maybe. |
It’s not all doom and gloom though. Maybe, the acquisition of the IP by Disney is a step in the right direction to bringing Star Wars back to what it originally meant. Choosing J.J. Abrams to helm Episode VII isn’t a bad idea; after all, he did wonders with Star Trek and (hopefully) Star Trek Into Darkness. Maybe, he’s the Chosen One. But, like the believer Qui-Gon Jinn, the fanboy in me is dead, killed by Darth Lucas. Now, I’m more like Mace Windu, grouchy Samuel L. Jackson, doubtful but still wanting to believe. Help us, J.J. Abrams, you’re our only hope. It’s time to bring balance back to the Force.
P.S. If you haven't seen this yet, you should.
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