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.
Delusions Of Grandeur 