Fandom & The Minority Menace

Being a Star Wars fan and living outside the United States can be alienating sometimes. Much is made of Star Wars’ use of universal myths, but the story of a small band of rebels struggling to overthrow a tyrannical Empire is particularly resonant to those born in the land of the free.

In fact, the metaphor pushes towards literal in The Empire Strikes Back, where the Imperial Navy is predominantly staffed by pasty men with stiff upper lips. So whilst Star Wars isn’t as overt in its nationality as say, Doctor Who, there’s little doubt that it is – in its essence – American.

Unfortunately, Star Wars also picks up some of the more unsavory aspects of American culture along too. Or, at least, embraces it to satisfy its audience. The lack of equality for minorities in Star Wars has always been an issue, right from the moment that George Lucas realised he hadn’t cast a black person in the original movie. Even the rectification in the sequel is inadvertently botched – Lando only really becomes a hero in the third movie.

It might not have been a conscious act of racism, but it illustrates that Star Wars channeling of traditional values – male white hero, young princess in peril, dashing rogues, comedy sidekicks – comes with some unexpected problems. Star Wars, like the westerns that preceded it, does carry heterosexual, patriarchal and aryan undertones.

It would be wrong to single Star Wars out as the only franchise that has done this. Star Trek, for all its fame about equality on the bridge, borders on misogyny in some episodes. But the difference between this, other franchises and Star Wars appears to be the reluctance of a core part of its fanbase to accept the change.

Two issues have come up of late that demonstrate how resistant Star Wars fandom can be. One is the reaction to the gay planet Makeb, a token gesture by Bioware in The Old Republic (inadvertently confining all gay relationships to one location in the game). Two is the outcry over Leia piloting an X-wing in issue one of the new Star Wars comic. Neither breaks continuity, or recons (fictional) history. Yet both have caused areas of Star Wars fandom to erupt with rage.

These are minor concessions in an otherwise dated fictional universe. For all intents and purposes, Star Wars has barely changed since 1977. From the prequels to the expanded universe, it still relies on its old tropes. Those same ideas that died about the same time as John Wayne. A simpler America. An easier America. An innocent America. Providing you were white, straight and a man, obviously.

By its nature, Star Wars is a fantasy. It doesn’t pretend to be hard sci-fi. It’s escapism – a blast of fresh and idealistic air that provides clear definitions between light and dark, moral absolutes and clear choices. They are tropes pulled from folk-tales and westerns. And they are the ones worth preserving. But that doesn’t mean everything else in folk-tales or westerns should stay.

A Very Unhappy Birthday & Identity

And we’re back! After an extended break over Christmas, the blog returns with an easy entry on the latest Star Wars : The Clone Wars. It also happens to be the 100th episode.

It’s a credit to Star Wars: The Clone Wars that at its worst I always think it merely falls short of its potential. A lot of times I feel as though it pulls back when it just starts to do or say something interesting. If it were a just kids show – as some believe – then my desire for it to question the deeper mythology of Star Wars would seem silly. But it occasionally plays with concepts that children would just not understand. At its best, Star Wars: The Clone Wars sits alongside the Batman and Samurai Jack as some of the most thoughtful western cartoons I’ve ever seen.

Missing In Action isn’t Star Wars: The Clone Wars at its best, though. For a landmark episode, it’s a disappointment. The pint sized Colonel continues to be infuriating, the plot is going no where and even Artoo fails to hold my interest. In my humble opinion, this four part arc is a train-wreck that should go down next to midi-chlorians as Things Not To Do With The Sequels.

That said, Gregor just highlights how nuanced this series has made the clones. The amnesiac is the latest in a long line of soldiers to be expressed as individuals. Kudos should go to Dee Bradley Baker, whose voice work defines each one quickly yet sharply.

So it’s a shame when the script doesn’t push nearly as hard. Mission In Action was an opportunity to continue with the thematic arc started in the excellent Umbara story arc in season four. A clone with amnesia should bring out the debate of duty, programming, loyalty, self-awareness and identity. If Gregor didn’t remember anything, would he really drop everything to fight a republic he hardly knew?

This internal conflict never really surfaces. In fact, as soon as he’s faced with the truth, Gregor drops back into the role of an obedient clone. “You’ve turned me into a slave!” he tells his boss. Surely this has to be a dark in-joke by the scriptwriter, given what he’s fighting to get back to?

When The Old Republic Falls

Last year I briefly investigated writing a PHD thesis on transmedia storytelling focusing on Star Wars. The singular narrative of the expanded universe, spread across every medium imaginable, is unique in media. For all the faults, no other franchise has woven its universe together as well.

I didn’t pursue the idea, which I’m now thankful for as the Sequel Trilogy looks set to destroy it. I suspect many elements of the Expanded Universe will be discarded over the coming years. Yet, for now, even the smallest elements still count towards the whole.

This has caused problems before. But nothing has occurred on the scale as The Old Republic, which increasingly looks set to become Star Wars’ first cross media flop. As it careens towards cancellation, it will leave a massive hole in the universe.

For those who don’t play, during The Old Republic the galaxy is split the galaxy in two, pitting a Sith Empire against The Republic. Players can roll either side, with the conflict between them the focus of the game.

Clearly the only outcome is victory for The Republic. It’s fundamental to the franchise. To fit in with the established universe, the following conditions must be met at the end of the project:

• The Sith are destroyed and forced from the galaxy.
• The Republic enters a period of peace
• Planets allied to the Sith Empire are brought back into the Republic

Put bluntly, this just isn’t possible. Whatever the story, there will still be countless Imperial characters, planets and locations required for the Sith player side of the game right until the final server is switched off. More problematic is that during the final hours, most NPCs will still be acting as if the Empire is strong and mighty, as they are scripted to do so.

At the very least, The Old Republic will require a wrap-up story to explain how a half the galaxy fundamentally changes and an Empire is struck off the map. I suspect it’s a story needing a span of books or an ongoing comic series. It would feel cheap otherwise.

The question is whether Lucasfilm Licensing will commission such a series that is fundamentally based on a franchise flop. Narratively it has to happen. But commercially is another story.

An Unexpected Hero’s Journey

Busy week! Culminating in watching The Hobbit in IMAX last night. I didn’t like Fellowship of the Ring on release, loved Two Towers and thought Return of the King was underwhelming. I find Tolkien laborious and thought The Hobbit was a terrible book. It was only after the extended editions of Lord of the Rings came out that I truly got into them.

So I’m surprised to find I loved The Hobbit in its entirety, cripplingly long first act and all. I can’t disagree with the criticism – there’s plenty to fault – but I willingly trade any small flaws for – in my view – the most interesting example of the Hero’s Journey ever to be put on screen.

This naturally leads us back on to Star Wars.

Much is made of the debt Star Wars owes to Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey. A thousand undergraduate essays have been devoted to spotting the milestones in Star Wars that are listed in the book. The Call to Adventure, Magical Aide, The Belly of the Beast and others all have obvious parallels in the adventures of the Skywalkers’.

But my particular favourite – The Refusal Of The Call – has never really been explored in Star Wars. Luke initially says no to Obi-wan on account of his Aunt and Uncle, but their prompt deaths allows him to get over that barrier quickly. Anakin doesn’t so much as refuse it as cries that his mother can’t come along too – somewhat understandable for an eight year old. But both of them yearn dream for high adventure.

The arrogance and naivety of youth is a common thread throughout literature and history. Heck, the First World War was initially rampant with idealistic heroism and nationalism, looking with relish to the heroics of conflict.

As shown by that example, however, optimism doesn’t last long when confronted with the realities of war. Running another human being through with a bayonet is a life-changing experience. So is seeing towns burn from your bombing runs or hearing screams from soldiers pumped full of bullets from your gun. War is not easy for normal folk. It’s not supposed to be.

Except, of course, your name is Luke Skywalker. This boy is shooting imperial stormtroopers, gunning down TIE Fighters and – oh yes – destroying battle stations full of millions of people. And he doesn’t even bat an eyelid. That’s cold, brother.

Now I’m aware this is a space opera about muppets and space samurai, so I don’t hold it against the first movie that Luke didn’t stop to agonize over his body count. But Star Wars did set the precedent for consciously following Campbell’s Hero’s Journey in cinema, thereby at least inspiring countless tales where heroes turn from shop assistants to superheroes, mentally ready and equipped for the life of high adventure (read: mass murder).

Martin Freeman’s interpretation of Bilbo Baggins breaks this nasty trend. Even after Bilbo accepts the call to adventure, he is still at best a reluctant hero. He doesn’t suddenly become ready to face down orcs, or shoot up trolls with a dozen arrows from a bow. He still retains his old traits, like preferring the homely surroundings of The Shire to life on the road or missing his books and hobbit hole. Even when Bilbo finds his calling and purpose within the adventure, he is doing it with one eye firmly focused on going back home once they have succeeded.

I personally find this type of character far more interesting than Luke in his initial steps, or Anakin throughout his own journey. The only similar parallel I can think of in Star Wars is that of Jacen Solo, who spend the best part of three books debating whether or not The Force was his calling in life. Even so, he has comes through at the end of Balance Point, becoming the Big Hero once more.

Aside from mixing things up, this different take on the Hero’s Journey also makes Bilbo a far more sympathetic character. Very few of us will ever be an ongoing hero of national leader. But most of us will at some point have to sacrifice the comforts of home in order to take on some sort of tough and trying problem. Think about work or school when you have to do this. It’s when don’t want to do something but we do anyway that is when we are at our most heroic.

Reading over the first few chapters of Hero’s Journey, I think this is exactly what Campbell was referring to. Not the eager youth looking to embrace the Road of Trials, but the smaller, humbler, content little person, moving beyond their village into the unknown.

The Monotony Of The Jedi

The picture above is from the top results of a quick Google search using the term ‘star wars yuuzhan vong’. I’m not sure where it’s from, but I presume it’s from Star Wars: Invasion, which depicts the Yuuzhan Vong conflict as brutal and epic.

This is in contrast to the New Jedi Order books, which seem to have dropped into the pattern of Big Three go to planet, Yuuzhan Vong invade planet, Big Three escape. Say what you will about the quality of the Bantam era (no, please do, it’s been so long ago that I can’t quite remember) but at least you could never accuse them of being monotonous.

Maybe things start to vary further into the series – I’m currently only a third through with Balance Point. I definitely would have trouble distinguishing between this and those that came before it, though. Aside from the little differences like Han acting like a jerk or Corran Horn going into exile for unconvincing reasons, little has occurred that warrants such a large amount of books.

I mean, I can understand that if you set a series during peacetime, options are limited. But here you have colonized and occupied worlds, star systems under constant attack. And you’re putting *everyone* on the same dull planet whilst the Vong launch yet another by-the-numbers invasion?

As I long suspected, The New Jedi Order is so far feels like a wasted opportunity for the Expanded Universe. Whilst I appreciate the subtle side-plots that weave through it – the debates of whether the Jedi Council is necessary and Jacen’s reluctance to use The Force are notable examples – I just don’t feel that enough is actually happening.

The lack of involvement of the New Republic is a huge misstep, too. And if the plot dictated that Fey’lya screws the defense of the galaxy up, then the plot was wrong. This is Star Wars. I don’t want to be reading about the New Republic fleet hiding out over Bothawui. I want to read about it in action, even if it’s losing with extreme resolve.

Star Wars 101: The Jump To Hyperspace

I’ve finally watched Secret Weapons, the latest episode in season five of Star Wars: The Clone Wars. I don’t intend to review episodes or books or anything like that. So I’ll just leave it at simply saying there are sometimes downsides to story arcs now lasting at least three episodes. Let’s see if a droid more irritating than Rex from Star Tours and a eighteen-inch ‘general’ get better this week. Preferably without more whimsy.

One thing I did notice in this episode is something that *really* annoys me. It annoyed me since I saw some storyboards for The Phantom Menace. It annoyed me since I read the script to Attack Of The Clones. Now it’s annoying me in The Clone Wars. What could it be? In a nutshell:

Apologies for the animated GIF. I know they’re annoying outside of tumblr.

In Star Wars, whenever a ship jumps to hyperspace and you cut to a shot behind the ship to show it leaping, the camera spins around.

It’s a minor thing. Clearly it is. But it’s the little things like this that reassure fans that the person behind the book, film or TV show understands the universe. Like when Timothy Zahn starts every book in the Thrawn Trilogy with a Star Destroyer. It’s the small things that convince the audience that the creative gets it.

So – bad form, Clone Wars. Next time a ship goes to lightspeed, spin the goddamn camera.

What if… Episode I

Interesting discussion on Quora that popped into my inbox today. What would be the best way to restructure and improve the Star Wars prequels? It’s one of those fandom questions that crops up occasionally and always takes my interest.

I have a lot of time for the Prequel Trilogy. There’s a lot that I like about it. One day, I’ll write a list for those who disagree. But I acknowledge that a handful of errors create massive flaws. I could actually accept the wooden acting, reliance on special effects and whimsy if the story had been given more care.

Personally I think the general outline of the Prequels is sound. I think with a revised draft by a good writer (say, for example, Lawrence Kasdan), The Phantom Menace could have been great. So, for what it’s worth, he’s my list of revisions that would immeasurably improve it for me:

1. Anakin is the same age as Luke. I’ve never seen this not featured. Having Anakin as between sixteen and eighteen solves a lot of problems. Immediately. His relationships with Obi-wan and Padme are more believable. Being too old to be trained makes more sense. Him being a great pilot is actually plausible.
2. Obi-wan is the one who meets Anakin. Again, a common choice. But having Obi-wan fill the Han Solo role is exactly what is hinted at in The Empire Strikes Back. Qui-gon gets injured when escaping Naboo and his reckless apprentice (sidenote: Apprentice, not Padawan) takes off with Padme and gets mixed up in freeing slaves and rescuing Anakin. It’s Obi-wan’s impulsiveness and bond with Anakin that sets the ball of Darth Vader rolling.
3. Darth Maul is the face of The Sith. Maul should be the fuzzy hologram, giving orders to the Trade Federation and pulling strings. Sidious doesn’t even appear. This allows both Maul to be a credible villain, whilst leaving some mystery around Palpatine. Then, at the end, the Master and Apprentice debate at most drops a little hint that Palpatine might be involved (non-Star Wars fans in the audience gasp!), but then, which was he? It’s more ambiguous.
4. No handmaiden for Padme. The character arc of Padme should be a stuffy Queen with a superiority complex is exiled and forced to face the potential of poverty. She learns about normal folk and realises her isolationist principles must end. She returns to Naboo, signs an alliance with The Gungans and wins back her throne, only to abolish it and turn Naboo into a Republic. Democracy is born for Naboo at the same time The Empire is born for The Galaxy. And what is responsible for her populist sensibilities? That would be meeting the earnest slave, Anakin Skywalker, whose selflessness shames her, and earns him her respect. Possibly affection, too.
5. Qui-Gon sacrifices himself for Anakin. Like the rest of the Jedi, Qui-Gon thinks training Anakin is a mistake, but puts up with him on the mission back to Naboo, as he’s in Obi-wan’s care. But Obi-wan’s bravado puts Anakin’s life in danger, and Qui-Gon takes the brunt of Maul’s lightsaber for him. Obi-wan, racked with guilt, is forced to grow up and accept responsibility. Anakin becomes mentally scarred at facing death so quickly, already sending his Jedi training off the rails.
6. Yoda wants to train Anakin. Anakin is somehow more instrumental in the overthrow of the Trade Federation, in the same way that even Luke’s rudimentary Force powers took down The Death Star. Yoda realises that leaving the boy is more dangerous than training him, and tells Obi-wan he will take over the boy’s instruction. But Anakin, after Qui-Gon’s sacrifice and Anakin’s attachment, claims he has a connection to him. That Anakin will do better with him. That he thinks he can train the boy, just as well as Yoda. Disagreeing entirely, but bound by tradition that a Jedi Knight can take on an apprentice of his choosing, Yoda reluctantly accepts.