Thursday, September 20, 2007

The Emperor

By now it's a pretty familiar story, but this Atlantic Monthly article from March 1979 is a pretty interesting take on "The Man Who Made Star Wars." It's important to remember that in 1979 there were no sequels, no Episodes, and no "A New Hope." Just Star Wars:

The iconography is bizarre. Darth Vader, the dastardly villain, is black. That is common in science fiction. In the supposedly liberal Planet of the Apes series, the wicked and stupid gorillas are the military, and they are black. The honey-colored chimpanzees are the wise, good scientists. The closer to the color of a California WASP, the better the character: it is a fair rule of thumb. But Darth Vader's forces are storm troopers armored in white. The wicked Grand Moff Tarkin lives in a gray-green world, with gray-green uniforms; he is clearly a wicked Nazi. Yet when our heroes take their just reward at the very end, there are images which parallel the finest documentary of Nazism, Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will. "I can see," Kurtz says, "why people think that. I suppose it is like the moment when Hitler crosses the podium to lay the wreath." Critical confusion is not surprising when there are allusions to Nazism as both good and bad. French leftist critics thought the film was fascist; Italian rightists thought it was clearly communistic.

Nor is the vague, pantheistic deism of the film coherent. Star Wars talks much of The Force, a field of energy that permeates the universe and can be used for both good and evil. It is passed on with a sword, just as the sword Excalibur is passed on in the Arthurian romance; the influence of chivalric stories is strong. But when The Force is used by Luke Skywalker to help him destroy the monstrous Death Star, he is urged only to relax, to obey his instincts, to close his eyes and fight by feeling. The Force amounts to building a theology out of staying cool.

Star Wars has been taken with ominous seriousness. It should not be. The single strongest impression it leaves is of another great American tradition which involves lights, bells, obstacles, menace, action, technology, and thrills. It is pinball-on a cosmic scale.

This is just one interpretation. I happen to think that the first movie stands alone pretty well as a complete story. It's when Lucas had the time and money to expand on the original nugget of an idea into an epic and a franchise that his ability to tell a consistent story really fled him.

The rest of the article tells the story of THX, Francis Ford Copolla, American Grafitti, Flash Gordon, and Lucas's nearly cynical attempt to make a kid's movie.
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Listening to: Pet Shop Boys - To Speak Is A Sin
via FoxyTunes