Betsy Shebang - Column for 5/28

Down the Star Wars Staircase





WARNING: Contains whiny-but-modest Star Wars spoilers
If you care, of course, you've already seen the movie







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I saw Star Wars Episode II. Walked out afterwards thinking it was one of the worst movies ever made. It probably wasn't. Nobody else who saw it seems to have hated it as much as I did; but then, this movie had an excellent filtration system to scare away moviegoers who really cared whether Episode II was a good movie. It was called Episode I.

There's one thing in particular that bothers me about the later Star Wars movies, and it's summed up in the phrase "it's only a movie", spoken by George Lucas and my wife, among others. The implication is that no movie in history can actually be expected to *mean* anything at all, and anybody who believes an entertaining film might or SHOULD have some deeper meaning is a fanatic, an imbecile, and somehow trapped in a naive childhood. I don't mean that anybody should believe that Luke and Leia are actually alive anywhere in the universe; it's fiction, dammit. But the first Star Wars movie was fiction that spoke to a place in so many people, children and adults, who didn't even know that place existed inside them until they set foot in the theater for their first viewing. Star Wars offered a genuine sense of wonder and an uplifting, transparently human message - no, more than a message; a sense of *direction*, I hesitantly admit - that happened to be conveyed via a spectacular-looking, clever, romantic, familiar (Many of the images had been lifted directly from other movies) yet fascinatingly alien melodrama. It *meant* something to us.

Like hypnosis, it would have a very powerful effect on some and no effect on others. And perhaps those who were immune to its effects had no need for it, or perhaps they "needed" it more than anyone else. The only respectful response has apparently been to nod and say "Okay, it's only a movie."

When Darth Vader "killed" Obi-Wan, the film dropped the final veil of bullshit for many viewers, and suddenly we knew we were watching something real - not a documentary, but a story told by and for a type of insightfully human creature we could hope to someday become. The sci-fi setting only added to this sense of transportation and hope. Star Wars offered a vision of humanity for those who hadn't yet learned, or who had in some way forgotten, what humanity was, and who had spent each day becoming convinced, however cheerfully, that life was something mechanical and empty. Religion did not directly address what was really going on in many of these people's hearts and minds; Star Wars did. And it did it with a limited budget and impossible technical challenges the later movies just didn't have.



The job of mythology - and it's taken me thirty years to figure this out - is to show where the magic in life is. The map isn't the destination, and a mythological story isn't the "truth", but it uses whatever imagery may be appropriate to hint at where the treasure is hidden. Kindly simple-minded grandparents would smile condescendingly and yammer about the wonders of the imagination as the source of magic, but they'd be wrong. The "imagination", as they conceive it, is another form of television - a distraction to be relied upon after "reality" has spent the day stretching us like taffy to accomodate its own needs and we need a break simply to prepare for the next day's pulling. I'm talking about life itself as the source of all magic, the boundaries of which we haven't begun to fathom. Magic in movies and fairy tales, with the sparks flying and objects moving at the wave of a hand, is mostly just a metaphor. But what it's symbolizing is absolutely real.

When the message is truly effective, as Star Wars was for so many people, it becomes transparent; people get the message, but they're not necessarily aware of what the message is - and if they were, they'd be likely to deny, even to themselves, that they'd actually "gotten" it and felt something from it. Some eyes focus on the mirror, and some focus on the face staring back from the mirror, and, and some focus on the world surrounding that face that can't be seen directly because there's this damn mirror in the way. Everybody knows they're looking at a mirror, but not everybody knows what it's for.

People got the message with the original Star Wars, but they didn't know what it meant. Everybody recognized a sense of magic in life as portrayed by the movie, but most of them thought the magic was in the movie itself, or in "the movies". (This focus on "the movies" instead of the content of movies explains the focus on box-office receipts instead of emotional or artistic triumphs.) Many film careers were born with a first viewing of Star Wars, and that's fine; but - and don't mistake my meaning here - it's like reading the Bible and being inspired to go into the printing business.


The big problem is that George Lucas apparently understood least of all what he was accomplishing. That's understandable; to us Star Wars is a movie to be enjoyed and a world to be celebrated; to him, it was a huge burden that demanded every moment of his attention for more than a decade. He's entitled to a bit of distance.

But what's increasingly clear in all the Star Wars movies is that he's been trying to teach a lesson he hasn't learned himself. The Jedi hint and ramble about their strategies and beliefs, but I'd submit that, sidestepping the contractions about "feelings" (which are considered good and useful in the first two movies and bad and distracting in the later movies), the lessons of the Jedi boil down to one thing: get out of your own way; your childish ego is only an obstacle to the power inside you. Properly understood, that's more than damn good advice. Learning to sidestep the fears and arrogant mistakes of the ego is the primary task of every actor, writer, athlete, boxer, soldier, parent...and any human being with a goal to accomplish and an ego to stand in the way.

George Lucas hasn't learned this lesson; he's learned the opposite. When he makes films, he's loyal to his ego and its confused fears and distracting ambitions, not to the film itself. The process should be like giving birth; instead, he's like Frankenstein, trying to wire together the perfect creature without interference from the processes of life that brought him everything he has in the first place. He's made the same mistake that most of the filmgoers have made - thinking that the original film worked because it was "campy fun", or because they were spectacular updates of Flash Gordon serials. He didn't realize that "campy fun" was the language, not the statement. And he absolutely did not realize that the story was bigger than *him*. (I can only assume he's not even making the later films for himself, but for an imagined audience of children that does exist commercially but doesn't exist in reality. These movies will make money, and they'll barely be remembered three years from now.)

There's nothing humble or truly solemn about the later movies. The Ewoks (who got cheap laughs out of what should have been fatal battlefield mistakes, each chuckle like an explosive charge tied to the bridge supports of the world he'd created), Midochlorians (which tried to represent the force as something tangible, measurable and merely physiological) and the fact that Jar Jar was and is in any way taken seriously as a character - each of those elements and many others were attempts to apologize for the faith and attention demanded by the first movies. It's as if Lucas is so terrified of being ridiculed that he absolutely refuses to take his own work seriously; he draws a spectacular world and uses it as a platform for campy jokes and empty, flashy tricks. And the more he's criticized for the ridiculous results, the more ridiculous his work becomes. He makes kiddie movies defensively, because he's no longer brave enough to make movies for adults; but he doesn't know how to make kiddie movies. (He clearly thinks he knows what his audience "wants", but any list of what moviegoers "want" is likely to be in reality a list of what moviegoers will accept when they're not getting what they want.)

Personally, I still want to know what the story means. I'm curious what George Lucas thinks it will mean to "bring balance to the force". It seems like it *should* mean something, even while we already know how the saga ends and it had nothing to do with bringing balance to the force. But Episodes I and II are more than just dissatisfying. They are in themselves an attack on the idea that a movie can mean anything at all to an audience.


How I would describe Episode II: "Suckquel". Attack of the Yawns. The original film was widely regarded as "A children's movie that adults could love", which is really to say it's an elaborate sci-fi metaphor fantasy that adults could on some level *accept*; episode II is too fucking tedious and talky and pretentious and confusing-exposition-heavy to be a kid's movie, and too fucking stupid (Jar-Jar left to represent a nation in the senate? Does Lucas want *everyone* to walk out in disgust?) and packed full of self-sabotaging gags to be acceptable to adults on any level save as a source of ironic Burger-King tie-in figures for the top of the monitor.

What hurt as I watched the movie was that, while Phantom Menace was a truly bad movie (and I'm suspicious of fans' tendancy to forgive one movie or another - much of the response I saw at the time of Episode 1 said "at least it's not as bad as the last one"; now they're saying it again) it at least had the excuse that it was very, very clearly a kiddie movie that adults could somehow re-interpret as an adult story and, through suppression of key elements (like the foot-growing-out-of-the-head just-plain-wrong virgin-birth bit, or the "accidental" military victory that insulted every character involved, good and bad, or the midochlorians thing that, yes, weakened not just the plots and characters of all the movies, but attacks the very magic the original films so delicately, and unprobably, managed to portray) take the story seriously. Episode II's story made no sense; it was very hard to follow; the good guys were both morally and visually hard to tell from the bad guys; and most of what we know about the story is directly contradicted in the prequels. (Annekin's kids were split up and put far apart so Vader wouldn't discover them, right? So why give Luke to Beru and Owen, who apparently live where Darth Vader grew up? C-3PO was built by Darth Vader, becomes part of the Alliance, then is sold back to Beru and Lars by coincidence? A little reincorporation goes a long way; a lot of reincorporation is a joke on, and a criticism of, the audience.)

Many friends watched this film with an "enjoying it for what it was" attitude, which I can sortof respect but I absolutely cannot summon up myself. As the credits rolled - once I got over the initial shock, after 2+ hours of yawns, that it was supposed to be over, after going nowhere for so long - I just felt a deep, burning sense of having been insulted. And not just a name-calling insult, but a you're-going-to-accept-this, this-is-how-stupid-you-are insult.

George Lucas grew up watching Flash Gordon serials, and in his thirties he set out to make one, but he couldn't get the rights to the characters. So he studied mythology and overshot his original goal by a thousand miles. And unfortunately, he's been working his way backward ever since. Down the Star Wars staircase.

Stay tuned for "Episode III: In The Basement".



Copyright 2002 Betsy Shebang

Columns by Betsy Shebang