The Why of Star Wars

Star Wars: The Force Awakens opens in one hundred and seventeen days. 117. One hundred and seventeen days to nergasmic, geektastic bliss. There are many of those that will poke fun at the many of us squeeeeeeeing with excitement over this, and to you I say this:

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For those of us that were born in the early seventies, boys and girls alike, Star Wars was our childhood. From the boyish innocence of Luke Skywalker, to the cynicism and sarcasm of Han Solo, to the feminine strength of Princess Leia, to the downright uber-coolness that is Darth Vader, the Star Wars saga enthralled us for a great portion of our formative years. We each remember the spectacle of A New Hope, our shock and horror at the big reveal in The Empire Strikes Back, and our anticipation of what fate would befall Han Solo and the rest of our favorite, ragtag rebellion in Return of the Jedi.  We had the toys and, later in life, the laser discs, DVDs and Blu Rays. Posters adorn our walls to this day, well into our adulthood. Why?

Well, there's a question, isn't there? Why did, and does, Star Wars resonate with my generation so completely? Why is the Force so strong with us?

As children I think it was mostly to do with the enormity of the fantasy. Inundated with new worlds, alien creatures, spaceships and epic battles, our senses were gloriously overloaded. Seldom had such a cinematic event taken place in history, and certainly not in our short lives. I think perhaps, for many of us children, it was the wide-eyes amazement of it all that lured us in. Notwithstanding, I think even those of us that fell in the tender age range of five to ten years old when Star Wars was first released were old enough to possess basic comprehension of the notion of good versus evil, even though we may not have understood the geopolitical or religious undertones of the film. Star Wars allowed us to graduate from playing cowboys and Indians to Jedi and Sith, Rebels versus Imperials. We were learning about the struggles of the oppressed, and of repressive regimes, even if we didn't know it at the time.  

As adults I think we have an even greater appreciation for the films, now being able to understand the complexities of the saga. Setting that aside, I think now, at least for me, one of the greatest appeals of the original film trilogy was the level to which we could, and still can, relate to the characters, and the landscapes, even if based in fantasy. We could easily understand why Luke Skywalker strove to flee the desolation that was the desert planet Tatooine.  Who among us didn't crave excitement and adventure, or possess the notion that such things existed just outside our grasp and were there for the taking if we could only escape our present existence? For those of us living in the northern sections of the country, the Battle of Hoth chilled us to our bones as we watched the swirling snow overtake our heroes. Not only could we put ourselves in the shoes of the characters, but we could feel the very real dangers posed by the environments in which they were placed.

So too could we understand the inner toil and conflict the characters faced, succinctly evidenced by Lando Calrissian; Smuggler turned legitimate businessman, Lando was poised to lose everything he'd accomplished if he didn't sell his friends out, and himself, for the sake of self-preservation. In the end the inner nobility he possessed made the decision for him, and he gave up everything for the sake of those that meant something to him. Lando's ultimate sacrifice is one that I've for many years felt was underscored and overshadowed, lost in the minutia of the overall saga's arc.

Let us not forget the story of redemption, as Darth Vader, having long ago given himself to the Dark Side, atones for his sins with his death in saving his own son's life by taking it upon himself to destroy the evil that had clouded his judgment for so long. He sought forgiveness, and I think there were few of us that didn't grant it.

Perhaps the most enduring and endearing quality of the first three films was their practicality. Granted, special effects were limited at the time, but so much of the original trilogy felt real. We could easily understand a smuggler flying around in a beat-up yet functional-when-it-counted spacecraft. Costumes were not so outlandish that they appeared as if they were created for the sole purpose of looking fanciful. Sets and scenery, though necessarily depicting, in some cases, a much more technologically advanced civilization, still felt genuine enough for us to put our belief in their existence. It was the combination of relatable characters and believable environments that made the Star Wars saga come to life, and live within us for all these years.

It is well documented that George Lucas was often at odds with the writers/producers/directors of the second and third films of the original trilogy, with Lawrence Kasdan especially, with respect to the appeal of Star Wars. Lucas believed it to be the spectacle, and desired to focus on the special effects, whereas Kasdan felt it was the character-driven nature of the story that brought the masses to the ticket booths. In hindsight, we need to look no further that the prequel trilogy to understand that Lucas was wholly, unequivocally, wrong.

Granted, special effects do make the films what they are – Let's face it, this is a fantasy set in space, and you cannot explore or tell the story without special effects. However, Lucas' heavy reliance on special effects in the prequels was the universal complaint with respect to those films. When he shifted the focus from the characters to the effects, a great deal of the initial appeal of the original trilogy was lost. The characters blended into the background, and a combination of poor writing and, in some cases, worse acting, detracted from what could otherwise have been spectacular. Instead the prequel trilogy resulted in a spectacular mess.

As he did with the "enhancements" to the original trilogy, Lucas lost sight of what made the franchise great. The prequel films were his proverbial white whale – the telling of the complete tale as he envisioned it. What Lucas selfishly forgot in the process was the fact that the fans that drove him to such success did so with great appreciation of what the original trilogy represented, i.e. the realism, ability to relate, etc. With the revisionist history, he caved to political correctness in having Han Solo shoot Greedo in self-defense, when Han was the only one to shoot in the original version. And a dance number in Return of the Jedi? Honestly, George.

The prequels abandoned the witty dialogue and banter of the original films for forced and trite interactions. Lucas attempted to ram comedic interlude down our throats with Jar Jar Binks, an unmitigated disaster and by far the greatest blight on the franchise. Add to that the starched and emotionless performances of the actors playing Anakin Skywalker, and our complete inability to relate to either actors' portrayals of the character, and Darth Vader's legacy became sorrowfully tarnished. We can never really understand Lucas' vision, but what became clear with the prequels was that Lucas had grown so disconnected from the franchise that it clouded his judgment to the point that it nearly drove fans away instead of endearing them. Just last night I watched The Phantom Menace again in the hopes that my ire towards the film and the knocks it's taken over the years were misplaced; that it really wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. In some ways, frankly, it was actually worse. So evident were the blatant attempts to overwhelm us with exhibition that I once again felt disappointed and angry for wasting my time.

For the Star Wars franchise to survive on film, and carry on, Lucas had no choice but to relinquish the reins, and for that, at least, I give him credit. I fully admit the skepticism, however, that washed over me upon hearing that he'd sold the Star Wars rights to Disney. I feared the direction the franchise would take, the Disnification of my beloved Star Wars, if you will. I was mildly pleased to learn that J.J. Abrams would be directing. I began to grow excited the more I learned of Abrams' intentions to ground the new film with the practical effects that made the originals as wonderful as they were. And I became downright ecstatic to learn that Lawrence Kasdan, who penned The Empire Strikes Back (arguably the best of the original trilogy) would be collaborating on the screenplay for The Force Awakens.

For many of us, Star Wars: The Force Awakens truly represents an awakening: If the film turns out to be what it purports to be, this will be a return to our childhood. It will allow us to both remember the wide-eyed amazement we felt, while opening our eyes again to something new and incredible, yet still familiar. From what I've seen thus far, in trailers, photos, and interviews, a return to the Star Wars universe we all know and love is expected, and welcomed.

Perhaps it’s the state in which we find our society that makes this return to Star Wars as poignant as I believe it will be – Whether with death, destruction, ignorance and bigotry, our lives, directly or indirectly, are plagues with negativity. Those my age have lived through a great many things – The end of the Vietnam War; the Cold War; the fall of the Berlin Wall; the tragic destruction of both the Space Shuttles Challenger and Columbia; multiple conflict in the Middle East, and September 11^th. It's difficult in these times to find something in which we can truly lose ourselves, separate ourselves from the world if only temporarily, and fantasize. For the "Star Wars Generation," The Force Awakens may very well be that opportunity.

 I sincerely hope that my faith in this film isn't as misplaced as it was then I first learned that The Phantom Menace was in production. I don't think it is. I truly believe the film will live up to the hype, and will return us to the familiarity and comfort we've come to expect from a Star Wars film. A forty-two year old child, will I be, filled with anticipation and excitement. A lot of you will never understand the feeling those of us fans experience, and that's okay. I'm sure, at least I hope, there's something out there for you to embrace that invokes the same types of emotion as Star Wars does for us. Or you can deride this writing, make your jokes, call us geeks and nerd or whatever derogatory moniker you can conjure. I really don't care. If you don't understand it, well, that's your problem.

The second trailer for the new film shows Han Solo and Chewbacca entering the Millennium Falcon, whereupon Han remarks "Chewie, we're home."

So will we be, Han. So will we be.

See you in December.

 

© 2015 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.