So
first off, apologies to all my readers in the Ukraine. Once my fifth most
popular country, they’ve currently dropped out of my top ten altogether. And
yes, sorry to the rest of the Internet too. That was a long draught of content
for The Star Wars Heresies.
There
were reasons, however. For one, I’ve spent a couple of weeks working on an
essay focused on the last arc of The
Clone Wars. And honestly, not really getting much of anywhere with it. I took
ten pages of notes on the episodes, which was apparently way too much.
For
another, I realize there really is a where-do-we-go-from-here vibe that is
permeating the saga we all know and love. Literally two or three days after I
submitted my book, Disney purchased Lucasfilm, Episodes VII, VIII, and IX were announced, and the world
promptly turned upside down and inside out. Since then one project after
another has been shelved or cancelled, the most visible and painful one being The Clone Wars series.
As
I’ve noted before, the Star Wars that
I’ve known and loved for thirty-plus years really is over. It’s under new
management with constant change and upheaval and it’s really difficult to get
one’s bearings (if you read me on Facebook
you know the exact same has been true for my life in general). And while I’m
not even remotely spouting doom and gloom about the always-in-motion future,
this simply isn’t the franchise and fandom that I’ve been writing about and
participating in for over a decade.
That,
dear readers, really is something of an issue.
While
incredibly familiar with George Lucas’ Star
Wars and comfortable with discussing it at great length and detail, I’m not
as sure-footed about the new world we’re all in the process of transitioning
into. Once the beating heart of the Wars
was always beating under the flannel shirt of Lucas, and that’s not true
anymore. J.J. Abrams’ Star Wars may
be inspired, and Disney’s may be great too, but I don’t know what they’re about
yet.
Abrams
is an obvious choice, though I do have to agree with some that he may have been
a little too obvious. After all, it’s not like anything about A New Hope
was obvious those many, many years ago. I did enjoy both of his versions of Star Trek, but honestly I got the most
out of him from Super 8. Not only did
he do solid work with an ensemble, but that film really had a heart and soul.
Much like Lucas has always done with his movies, clearly Abrams wasn’t shy
about investing a lot of his own self into that one.
From
a directorial point of view, it will be interesting to see what he does with Episode VII. Obviously he will have to curb
some of his more kinetic and favored camera work, and everyone has heard the
lens flare jokes since he was announced as the director. Star Wars already has such a well-established pictorial style that
directors are going to have to be very careful to remain faithful and true to
that tested template.
But
perhaps even more than that – and this definitely goes for the writers also –
there is that ever-elusive “soul” of Star
Wars that is somehow going to have to be maintained. This kind of thing is
indescribable, it just comes over you when John William strikes a chord or two
or someone activates a lightsaber for the first time or a narrative text in
yellow font floats upon into the vast reaches of space.
Abrams’
esteem for the original trilogy is well noted. I seem to remember him even
saying he was more comfortable working in the Star Trek franchise than in the Wars
because he didn’t feel inundated with the “sacredness” of everything that had
come before. Of course, it has been argued that while it is the role of the
artist to reveal the sacred with one hand, it’s also their job to slap it away
with the other.
This
is something that Lucas himself has never been afraid of doing. I mean
honestly, look no farther than The
Phantom Menace. If one hates the execution, one simply hates the execution,
but that film took the franchise in some bold directions, not only with epic
lightsaber duels and podraces, but also with subversive villains and galactic
politics. In short, it just wasn’t a rehash of the original.
Of
course, much the same could be said for The
Empire Strikes Back. Turning one of the most hated villains in movie
history into the hero’s father may be cliché now, but in 1980 it was very
daring and unprecedented. The unfolding history of the saga has always been
about broadening, reframing, and redefining everything that came before. It’s
not just about retelling the same story in the same way.
While
Abrams’ esteem for the original trilogy is admirable, not only has tons of
content been generated since, but for me it would be a mistake to try and
recapture that lightning-in-a-bottle feel of A New Hope. For one, it’s never going to happen, at least not for
the two or three generations now raised on Star
Wars. And two, everything has significantly progressed since then.
Countless episodes of The Clone Wars
demonstrate that, and that was an animated series.
Almost
everything about A New Hope was revolutionary.
The universe itself was the game changer. The moment the Star Destroyer
thundered overhead chasing the Rebel Blockade Runner, it was unlike anything
anyone had ever seen. On the other hand, as some of the more persnickety
critics have noted, its beautiful simplicity really bordered on the simplistic
at times. The princess was in all white, the bad guy was in all black, and with
tons of whiz bang and gun fights, it revolved around a
we-have-to-blow-them-up-before-they-blow-us-up plotline.
That
was its genius, but The Empire Strikes
Back was a huge step up from that, a trend which - for my money - continued
with Return of the Jedi. The arc went
from not only blowing evil up from the outside, but journeying into that heart
of darkness and redeeming it from within. And okay, the second Death Star had
to be blown up too, but the point still stands. Not unlike Luke Skywalker in
that deleted scene building his lightsaber on Tatooine and bringing
illumination into the darkness, so did he with the dark side itself.
This
can also be viewed through the character of Yoda. For the first generation,
that diminutive Jedi Master hobbling around Dagobah spouting aphorisms at the
snap-hiss of a lightsaber will never, ever be surpassed. True, the execution was
brilliant and undeniably magical, but he was also something of a caricature.
Honestly, all of what he said could just as easily have been gleaned from any
of the Complete Idiot’s Guides to
Eastern philosophy on the bookshelves at your local Barnes and Noble.
While
the depiction of institutionalized religion like in the prequels may not be as
inherently satisfying as the individual hero’s vision quest in the originals
(gotta do a blog post on that one), it also provided very nice texture to a
borderline one-dimensional character. To see the same little green sage who
tells Luke “A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack”
in The Empire Strikes Back leading
legions of proto-stormtroopers into war in Attack
of the Clones should have made us rethink everything. Knowing that Yoda
started off in an ivory tower on Coruscant only to fall all the way to a mud
hole on Dagobah by the time Luke arrived there gives him an infinitely richer character
arc.
If
there had been such a feeling of “sacredness” with the prequels this sort of
thing would have been impossible. What came after was not above completely
subverting what came before, which of course was the point. If the next trilogy
is simply an attempt to recapture some mystical, mythical magic from
thirty-something years ago, there’s not much of a point, because we already
have said magic.
My
take on Star Wars is different from a
lot of people’s. Hence the “heresy” part of The
Star Wars Heresies. There is a philosophical trajectory to be mapped out in
the sequel trilogy, and it would be really disappointing if it wasn’t followed
through to its logical conclusion. If a
shoot-Greedo-first-ask-big-mythic-questions-later mentality pervades just to
satisfy groups of thirty and forty-something fanboys, the potential of this new
trilogy could be derailed pretty effectively.
This
trajectory, as noted before, is quite simply the progression of the Jedi Order
from a religion of law, Old Testament-style, to a religion of love, New
Testament-style. The former we saw in the prequel trilogy with its emphasis on
non-attachment and dogma, the later flowering in the original one with Luke’s
love and compassion for his father Anakin.
On
a side note, to me a brilliant philosophical discussion with Luke and Qui-Gon
Jinn’s shade from the other side is absolutely essential, those two being the
bookends of the saga who had a deeper understanding into the mysteries of the
Force than anyone.
And
oh yeah, I’m also concerned about what the new villains are going to be.
Following in the footsteps of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader is problematic
at best. The Sith as antagonists are apparently out of the running, and those
are big shoes to fill.
While
some have endlessly bemoaned the fact, Star
Wars as a creative entity has always been so unique in that it is largely
the artistic expression of one person, namely George Lucas. This certainly
isn’t to deny the endless contributions of everyone else, but the paradigm has
definitely shifted as of last year. Unlike with Gene Roddenberry and Star Trek, Lucas was unparalleled in his
near complete control of his creation, and I for one will miss his unique
understanding and input into that galaxy far, far away.
Yes,
the Maker is thankfully still alive, having just enjoyed a birthday and a wedding.
And true, he is providing story treatments and is onboard as a creative
consultant. But it’s not going to be the same.
And
thanks to an interview on Rebel Force
Radio months ago, the long debated argument over how many films were
originally planned reached something of a conclusion. Apparently there were
going to be nine episodes, but that was before Return of the Jedi. One of the marketing people on the first two
films revealed Episode VI was
originally going to center around Boba Fett, and presumably saving Han Solo
from Jabba the Hutt. The last half of it was actually going to constitute Episodes VII-IX, with a protracted
confrontation between Luke and Vader, with the Emperor egging them on.
So
this does cause me some confusion over what these films are finally going to
be. The Expanded Universe material will apparently have little, if any,
influence on what is to come. Lucas’ true role in all this probably won’t be
known for some time and, as for Kathleen Kennedy, she could be hiding in a cave
in Afghanistan at this point.
Still,
the thought of Mark Hamill sporting Jedi robes and perhaps a beard, Harrison
Ford strapping on his blaster and sitting down in the Millennium Falcon’s cockpit, and Carrie Fisher doing, well,
whatever it is she’s going to do, does push a lot of fanboy buttons. And in all
the right ways. It’s hard not to get excited about the promise of just seeing
the Big Three back on screen – although some have argued for the Big Four, not
to slight Chewbacca.
For
me personally, the subtext of Star Wars
has become almost as important as the text, so I’ll be anxiously waiting to see
where this new era takes us. It’s funny, but part of the litmus test for me
concerning whether a movie is really good or not is based on if I can write an
essay about it afterwards. Thus far with the Wars, I’ve been able to type up entire books.
So
the big question for me is, provided I eventually do a follow-up one on the
original trilogy, will the sequel trilogy provide enough mythic and
philosophical fodder for the Star Wars
Heresies to continue?
P.S.
And yeah, I will finish that Ahsoka essay eventually. My book index is also
looming over me, so just bear with your humble Jedi blog master.
