Planet Origo ver. 0.10e
last updated 2009-09-08 02:01 CET
This summer it was 10 years since the release of the first Star Wars prequel, Episode I: The Phantom Menace, and the beginning of the apparent Star Wars backlash. In this article, my aim is to analyze aspects of the recent George Lucas space films that critics often ignore or seem not to understand. Lucas is above all a master of visual storytelling.
Christer Andresen goes beyond the wooden dialogue in the Star Wars trilogies.
Episode III ends in hellish red, exemplified by the lava planet Mustafar where the friendship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker comes to a terrible end.
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In my previous essays I have highlighted the importance of film style to the viewer’s experience of movies, and argued that a lack of understanding of this aspect can sometimes make the critics focus too much on traditional narrative and character portrayals. Now I am going to advance the case that George Lucas' prequel space opera, while justly criticised for some of its shortcomings, is also under-appreciated in the fields of film style and epic storytelling. Thanks for reading Beyond the wooden dialogue: Style and story in Star Wars.
Inspirations
When Quentin Tarantino references film history, or particular films, genres and directors, the meta aspect is obvious and itself part of the attraction. Lucas sources his Star Wars films in much the same way, but they are not built to be meta-filmic. The stylistic inspirations behind the space opera are sometimes obvious and sometimes less so. We have all heard and read about the influence of Akira Kurosawa on Lucas' fantasy films, particularly tied to the action adventure of the original Star Wars: A New Hope, which often seems lifted from Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress. But the Japanese master's influence is heavily ingrained in the prequels too, where the Samurai-like Jedi Knights roam a relatively peaceful galaxy which seems partially modelled on the pre-industrial Japanese society.
The more formal, and seemingly stilted, dialogue of these films is not merely coincidental; Lucas has crafted a way of social interaction which is better suited to the societal norms of the royal and the political, than Han Solo's world-weary wisecracking. It might be less fun, but it is proper all the same. Where the original trilogy portrayed the working classes and their rebellion, the prequel trilogy spends its screen time on the samurai, on royalty and generally on the upper classes.
These stylistic contrasts are very important to the overall arc of the epic Star Wars story.
Tonal variation
Many viewers seem to prefer either Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back in the original trilogy, or Episode III: Revenge of the Sith in the prequel trilogy. This is understandable, as those films grip the dramatic core of the saga's story. However, what would they be without their contrasting instalments? Episode III can go dark and dramatic because of the playful and light contrast in Episode I: The Phantom Menace, and Episode V can deliver intense drama because of the set-up managed by the original action adventure Episode IV: A New Hope.
For a series that stretches over 12 hours of film, tonal variation is important. In my opinion, this is the problem with The Lord of the Rings: a lack of tonal variation. After one and a half movies, there is just so much more one can take of teary-eyed close-ups in slow motion and characters seeming to die but then not being dead anyway. Contrast Peter Jackson's hyperbolic pathos with the much more sober approach Lucas takes, for example with the funeral of Shmi Skywalker in Episode II: Attack of the Clones, or the betrayal of the Jedi with the murderous Order 66 in Revenge of the Sith. No close-ups, no slow motion. It's not as heavy emotionally, but better suited to repeat viewings.
Indeed, I will venture the opinion that Lucas is so good at building this contrast that the two remaining episodes suffer for it. Episode II and Episode VI: Return of the Jedi seem to struggle with finding their place in the arc, being either trapped between the light and dark of the prequel films (in the case of Episode II), or faced with the daunting task of closing the saga after the phenomenal double whammy of Episodes IV and V. The final episode delivers some great drama and action, but cannot match its predecessor. It's a shame that director Irvin Kershner declined Lucas' offer to direct Jedi, after turning in the saga's finest with Empire. Besides Lucas' own directorial work on the prequels, Kershner is a master of light and colours. And this is another important Star Wars trait.
Colour schemes
Episode I is primarily a blue film, and primarily shot in daylight. Episode II darkens the schemes with an increasing use of shadows reminiscent of film noir, and Episode III ends in the hellishly red, exemplified by the lava planet Mustafar where the friendship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker comes to a terrible end.
Episodes II and III also spend an increasing amount of time at night and in darkness, like on the perpetually stormy water planet Kamino where Obi-Wan stumbles upon the plot to manipulate the Republic into forming an army. This sequence is built on classic film noirs, and also has some memorable dialogue. Try this exchange between the Jedi Master and mercenary Jango Fett, and witness the sense of Double Indemnity and The Maltese Falcon:
Obi-Wan: Your clones are very impressive. You must be very proud.
Jango: I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe.
Obi-Wan: Ever made your way as far into the interior as Coruscant?
Jango: Once or twice.
Obi-Wan: Recently?
Jango: Possibly.
Shadows, night time, and Venetian blinds also figure prominently in the assassination attempts at senator Amidala. These stylistic choices are obviously designed to match the plot of the second prequel, which is essentially a murder mystery coupled with a political conspiracy. As the terrorist threat of the separatist movement slowly pulls the Republic apart, our Jedi heroes investigate what turns out to be a secret military mobilization that ensures the Chancellor's continued stranglehold on the Senate and the launching of his special "emergency" powers. Visually, Lucas attempts to bridge the gap between his light Episode I opening and the epic tragedy of Episode III by deepening his use of reds and blues, greys and shadows.
The Lord of the Rings embodies many qualities that viewers find lacking in Lucas' two trilogies, but Jackson's fantasy opus goes wrong in this kind of long-term building up, because the end seems to come with the weight that is put on the (admittedly awesome) Helm's Deep siege in The Two Towers. In the following film comes the ultimate battle before the gates of Minas Tirith, but in order to visually separate this battle from the previous one, Jackson sets it in a kind of daylight that Tolkien writes as being non-existent. The author conceived of this battle as being the darkest point in his saga, but Jackson is unable to deliver the visual equivalent.
Lucas sets the climactic Episode I battle in broad daylight under the Naboo sun. Even the dramatic three-way lightsaber duel is set in sharp light that often seems to drain colour from the images. The podrace sequence midway through the movie is also pierced by light, being set under the scorching twin suns of desert planet Tatooine. The film certainly has shortcomings, but the long-term thinking behind Lucas' saga design is very sensible: If you want the darkest episode to have the proper impact, it needs to be contrasted by lighter entries. Lucas' visuals tells the story like silent film.
When Anakin Skywalker is being tested by the Jedi Council in Episode I, the background is a spectacular vista of the galactic capital bathed in the light from a dark orange sunset. As Senator Palpatine is nominated for the position as Supreme Chancellor, the sun sets and the cityscape is shrouded in darkness. When we return to the capital in Episode II it is indeed shrouded in fog...
With the tonal variations, Lucas also employs an intentional variation in point of view. This is very subtle, but it generally follows the age and character development of Anakin Skywalker. In Episode I certain scenes are shot from Anakin's physical point of view. The boy being 10 years old at this point in the story, we sometimes have a frog's eye view of the world around him, like in his first meeting with Senator Palpatine and the Republic's politicians. These stylistic features are not only physically dictated, but also in line with the protagonist's general outlook, a world view and loyalty that turns seriously bleak in the course of the darkening story. The world around Anakin slips into darkness as his own mind slips from a sense of wonder and into the neurotic dementia that finally gives birth to his Sith identity, Darth Vader.
Historical themes and contemporary allegories
It is well known that Lucas modelled the original trilogy on the work of mythologist Joseph Campbell. The professor's studies of mythologies and religious storytelling throughout the world coalesced into his theories of the monomyth, the common thread that seemed to run through all mythologies. In large part, this revolved around the mythical hero's journey from innocence through trials and tribulations, to finally changing the world at a high cost to himself. Lucas created a story that was very much based on Campbell's books The Hero with a Thousand Faces and The Masks of God. However, the prequel trilogy delves into a different kind of storytelling, one that is akin to classical Greek tragedies and the real world history of Rome and other great Republics that have lapsed into tyranny.
The prequel trilogy is the story of a democracy turning into a dictatorship by choice, by greed and by corruption. The turn is manipulated from within, in contrast to the original trilogy's very overt theme of good guys versus bad guys. The prequel trilogy is grey, with democracy failing to counter the dark force within. Senator Palpatine sets in motion the events that lead to him taking the chair of Supreme Chancellor. Then, Chancellor Palpatine manipulates the external terrorist threat that consolidates his power and kick-starts military spending and the inhibition of civil liberties and freedom. The theme should be of interest to anyone, anywhere, at any time. But I have never read a review that even grasps the eerie real world allegories in evidence here...
Episode I has indeed been met with somewhat schizophrenic critiques, being both chided for its alleged 12 year old target audience, and at the same time criticised for its plot of political intrigue. The latter point is interesting, for the prequel trilogy does indeed have a much more adult plot than the simple good versus bad of the original trilogy. In Episode III, the manipulations and conspiracies finally result in the creation of the first Galactic Empire, with heightened security and military measures to counter a fabricated external threat. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? This is an important aspect of the Star Wars story that is usually ignored.
When Chancellor Palpatine is finally revealed as the Sith Master at the heart of the conspiracy, he is confronted by an arrest team of Jedi Knights. The Sith Lord refuses to come willingly, of course, but the Jedi insist that “the Senate will decide your fate”. Palpatine croakes his reply: "I am the Senate." For anyone familiar with president Richard Nixon's criminal abuse of power, this has a very eerie ring to it. What did Nixon tell reporter David Frost when pushed on the illegality of his actions? He croaked his reply: "[...] when the president does it, that means that it is not illegal." I am the Senate, indeed.
Time for reappraisal
It is probably inevitable that a much loved series making a comeback will come in for severe critical mauling. It certainly happened to Star Wars with the prequels, and it might just happen in Tolkien's realm with the release of the Hobbit movies in a few years. In my opinion, the hatred that the Star Wars prequels seemed to elicit was often based on false premises. For example, are the original Star Wars movies really as timeless and great as the prequel bashers seemed to insist? Hardly. They are darn good fun, at times brilliant drama, and Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back is one of the best fantasy films of all time. But the older Star Wars movies were always flawed, and always not quite taking themselves as seriously as some fans seem to do. On the other hand, the sheer vitriol that was sometimes reserved for the prequels often overshadowed those movies' strong points, one of which is the stylistic design of the storytelling that I have highlighted in this essay.
Particular mention should be made of the surprisingly dark and brutal Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. With this film, Lucas demonstrates his determination and ability to take his grand tale to its darkest point, trusting in the original A New Hope to follow in proper style. The Sith episode also showcases the impressive genius of composer John Williams, as he takes all his Star Wars themes to their dark conclusion and weaves a musical tapestry that is frankly head and shoulders above the work of contemporary film composers like Hans Zimmer and Howard Shore. Lucas has always insisted that Williams' music is at least 50 percent of the Star Wars experience, and the composer does not let down either Lucas or the viewer. The story reaches its absolute pitch black climax with the extermination of the Jedi Knights and Anakin Skywalker's massacre of the Jedi children. The sequence packs an emotional impact only made possible through the combined talent and insight of Lucas and Williams, and leaves the viewer physically reeling from the experience.
So, here I am, beating the drum for Star Wars. I do believe that in time, the status of Lucas' saga will achieve rehabilitation. If not for great dialogue or acting, then for its visual brilliance.
The way Lucas constructs this tale through stylistic means is subtle and tasteful, and of an entirely different kind than The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. The Star Wars saga warrants repeat viewings as a whole, and the prequel episodes deserve reappraisal. If the acting and dialogue doesn't quite match your expectations, try to soak in the visual storytelling and remember that Lucas' films are part of a very different cinematic tradition than those of Tarantino.
Recommended reading
Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces and The Masks of God
Recommended viewing
Akira Kurosawa's The Hidden Fortress and The Seven Samurai
The Star Wars movies:
Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)
Episode II: Attack of the Clones (2002)
Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)
Episode IV: A New Hope (1977)
Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
Episode VI: Return of the Jedi (1983)
Recommended listening
John Williams – Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
John Williams – Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
Christer Andresen is Assistant Professor of Film Studies, University of Trondheim, Norway.
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