Whimsy

WHIM-SY Noun: Playfully quaint or fanciful behaviour or humour.

I can’t find the exact quote, but I’ve always found George Lucas’ admission in the Star Wars: A New Hope commentary that Dewbacks were created for whimsical reasons rather telling. His love of it explains a number of the left-field additions to Star Wars, increasing as Lucas’ complete control over the universe also increased. Unfortunately most of this whimsical elements completely jar with the rest of the universe, which – as the franchise’s name suggests – is grounded in war.

The latest offender into Star Wars cannon is the traveling circus in Bound For Rescue, the latest Star Wars: The Clone Wars episode. Put aside questions like why are they on this planet and why are they entertaining pirates, as flaws in logic frequently appear when ideas are added on a whim. Instead, look at how jarring the scenes are when shown along side Obi-wan’s bleak battle against the Confederacy. At best, they seem out of place. And at worst, they aren’t engaging by comparison.

Predominant whimsy is injected into Star Wars whenever the story becomes weak. The Phantom Menace is full of novelty inventions, gags and  sequences, all trying to cover up the fact that not much is going on. It also occurs when Lucas appears to grow bored with what he’s doing – the countless additions in the Special Editions are perhaps a creator who is more interested in technical innovation than considering what effect it has on the story.

Tellingly, the levels of whimsy were reduced greatly for Revenge of the Sith, which by Lucas’ own admission was the one that contained the majority of the original prequel trilogy outline.

The problem with including a whimsical circus in Bound For Rescue is that the episode is otherwise dealing with some darker elements of the Star Wars universe. Obi-wan and Cody in the middle of a (wonderfully animated) major space battle. And Hondo is threatening to sell Ahsoka to a crime cartel, who are very particularly interested in female Jedi, and want one deador alive. It’s an odd request, and leads to an unpleasant train of thought.

Shakespeare often used comedy in his plays to bring emphasis to his tragedy. Based on his reviews, I’d say he did a pretty good job of it. But – as much as I like them both – neither Feloni nor Lucas are up to the standard of Shakespeare. Instead, whimsy in Star Wars tends to undermine everything else.

No lightsabers, please. Let’s move on.

“The lightsaber is the Jedi’s only true ally” – Huyang, Star Wars: The Clone Wars

“For my ally is The Force, and a powerful ally it is” -Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

To the vast majority, Star Wars is about space battles and blaster shoot-outs and laserswords. “The big space battle at the end,” my Dad once told me, when I asked him about people’s reaction in 1977. “That’s what everyone talked about”. So much for Joseph Campbell, Jungian archetypes and Buddhist philosophy.

It’s a hard truth to accept that outside of fandom and film studies, no one gives two hoots about the mystical parts of Star Wars. Even Lucasfilm treat the Jedi in the Prequel Trilogy and The Clone Wars show like comic book heroes, with The Force seemingly just existing to grant them superpowers. And the lightsaber is their batarang, webshooter and, er, bow all rolled into one (A sonic screwdriver, then).

Personally, I am disappointed every time I see this. Like in the latest Clone Wars episode, where David Tennant’s droid directly contradicts one of Yoda’s earlier (later?) sayings. To my great sadness, it happens frequently across the Prequels and The Clone Wars.

Fortunately I can currently get my philosophizing fix from the EU. Dark Empire, Tales of the Jedi, and more recently the Quinlan Vos comics put The Force front and centre, only using the lightsaber when absolutely necessary.

But with the future of the EU uncertain (in the wake of Episode VII, a revamp or reboot could easily be on the cards) I’d like to see the Sequel Trilogy set a precedent and embrace The Force over the lightsaber once again. Or, at least, have the rumoured older, wiser Luke Skywalker follow in his mentor’s small footsteps and lose it.

If you really need to satisfy public desire for yet another lightsaber duel, let the young Padawans go at it. But let’s see how Luke has matured as a Jedi, leaving his lightsaber attached to his belt until it’s the last resort. Have him be cranky, snarky, dependent on a walking stick. And then – when the time is right – suddenly that bright green blade emerges once more from the darkness. And the audience will cry.

At the very least, please don’t have a CGI Mark Hamill waving it about for twenty minutes whilst somersaulting down the side of a Star Destroyer at 40,000 feet.