Star Wars
In the ultimate battle between fanatic and critic, David Wall argues that Star Wars films are awful, and that those who like it are merely delusional.
Star Wars is bad. Really bad. At this point you should either be shaking your head in disgust or nodding agreement (whilst shooting looks at whoever dragged you to see it). Unfortunately, stating that the film is bad is not enough. It is necessary to drag you back through the series and all its terrible effects upon society until you too cry, “I hate Star Wars!” The most cited criticism of Star Wars is bad acting and bad dialogue, particularly in Episodes I and II.
Episode III continues this trend with decent actors and actresses such as Natalie Portman and Samuel L. Jackson rendered wooden. People often overlook the original trilogy due to a sense of misplaced nostalgia, which leads them to forget just how bad Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher were. This leads us on to the perils of nostalgia itself.
How many children have you seen demanding that their parents take them to see the new trilogy? How many children you have seen watching these turgid films (if like me you were foolish enough to pay out for these atrocities)? In reality the cinemas are packed out with those who saw Star Wars in their youth. At such a tender age the excitement of new special effects blinded them to the emptiness of the films, causing a lingering sense of reverence to all involving Jedi ever since.
Unable to reassess the original trilogy lest it cast a shadow upon their childhood, they pay out hoping to recapture the joy of youth. Yet with now adult brains they see the new trilogy truly and in their grief blame Lucas for ruining their ideal of what Star Wars was. The grim reality being that it was always this terrible. Jar-Jar Binks (yes he is an obvious target), is one of the most nauseating characters to ever appear on screen.
Forgetting the possibly racist undertones in his speech and stupidity, he’s just plain irritating. Yet whilst being the focus of much ire he is not alone. Chewbacca is just a big ball of fur that groans, while Yoda’s a small green gnome who despite being a Jedi guru can’t string grammatically correct sentences together. Away from the alien life forms lurks another, more real beast - the dedicated Star Wars fanatic.
Convinced that each and every one of Lucas’ films is a masterpiece they attend conventions, dress up outside cinemas and bore their friends with discussions of who has the biggest lightsabre. Some go deeper and talk of the inherent truths in the philosophy behind Star Wars despite the fact that they could probably find deeper truths on the back of a packet of cereal. People such as these actually put their religion down as Jedi on the census in all seriousness.
Star Wars also helped the evil rise of merchandising and film tie-ins. In retaining the rights to a percentage of profits from merchandise, Lucas showed canny foresight as Star Wars toys flew from the shelves. Today there are hundreds of sub-standard sci-fi novels set in the Star Wars universe, sitting alongside video games rushed to the shelves, gameplay safely sacrificed in the knowledge that people would buy them on the strength of the license alone.
Nowadays no child’s film is complete without tieins from games to McDonalds, helping to bleed parents’ purses dry. Blame Star Wars. Blame Lucas. Having barely scratched the fetid rump of Star Wars, this article must close. One should not write too much - a fact that Lucas should remember before turning out another trilogy. Just remember, bad Star Wars is.
Matthew Castle explains why the naysayers are wrong, and the franchise is a work of genius.
Along time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, George Lucas heralded in the age of the blockbuster. The first series to give B grade material the A grade treatment, Star Wars introduced the world to cinema’s ability to whisk the audience away to a wholly believable world beyond their imagination. Gone were the confines of cheap sets, the unbelievable effects and general lack of polish that had previously plagued the sci-fi fantasy genre.
Instead we were given believable alien worlds, intense dogfights and dazzling lightsabre battles, all tied up with a soaring orchestral score. With the recent trilogy having received consecutive critical beatings from the press it is easy for people to overlook the worth of the franchise. When laughing at the terrible dialogue or cringing at the wooden acting it is too easy to forget the debt the modern blockbuster owes to this series.
Had Star Wars not introduced the acceptability of the fantasy genre we certainly wouldn’t have seen many of Spielberg’s masterworks, and there is no doubt that Peter Jackson’s plans for hobbits and rings would have been laughed out of the studio. Ignoring its generic importance, there is no arguing with the sheer cinematic spectacle of the Star Wars experience. Take the opening of all six films for example.
A dark expanse of space, a brief silent moment shattered by an almighty blast of an orchestra. That such a simple visual and audio motif can instantly send shivers down the viewer’s spine is a testament to the power of Lucas’ vision. In Star Wars Lucas has created a series of motifs and conventions so satisfying to watch that to some they represent all that is great about cinema.
The crackle of the lightsabre, the mangled Yoda speech, Vader’s wheeze, that parental twist and even Jar-Jar Binks are cinematic sights and sounds with greater resonance than any other. Okay, maybe not the last one. However, the appeal of the films doesn’t begin and end in the cinema auditorium. For the dedicated viewer the films act as an introduction to a world with huge scope for exploration and an incredibly detailed mythology.
Beyond the original trilogy lie the stories told in the Expanded Universe novels, charting the fortunes of characters we have grown to know and love through their cinematic incarnations. Running alongside the films we have comics, games, toys, television shows; not as the cynics would claim, a simple cash cow, but a lovingly crafted continuation of the dreams implanted by the films. Perhaps only in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings do we find another world with such potential for expansion.
As a franchise it keeps giving and giving. If you love blockbusters, you owe something to Star Wars. If you love the spectacle of cinema you’ve got to love Star Wars. If you want an experience that keeps on giving you need go no farther than Star Wars. Having given us so much, isn’t it about time the naysayers stop the hate and give it the respect it’s due?.
Cyrus Azima has the privilege of attending the Revenge of the Sith premiere
…Row G Seat 7. We’ve been waiting here for what must be fourteen hours. Although battle-weary, having flown two Death Star runs, skirmished on Hoth, Endor and Geonosis to name a few, the force remains ever resilient. It’s been a long day and the final chapter is fast approaching but, allow me to crack a bad one, we’ve got a good feeling about this. The Tusken Raider to my right certainly seems to think so…
To spell it out, today is the Star Wars marathon. We are going to endure, or rather enjoy/celebrate, all six Star Wars movies back-to-back (Hope through) starting 7am sharp Empire Leicester Square and ending with the world public premiere of Revenge of the Sith. It is no small undertaking but to call it an endurance test or Jedi trial misses the point. We are fans and this is the way to watch the saga – simple.
It’s 6am. Thanks to the presence of the 501st UK stormtrooper garrison a line of 1300 rabid fans forms in an orderly manner outside the Empire. John Williams’ score soars from the centre of Leicester Square courtesy of the Royal Philharmonic as people ready themselves. Despite a 4am rise my fellow viewers have certainly made the effort – this isn’t your average 6-year-old’s fancy dress party. A Wookie, apparently from Germany, looms in front. A council of Jedi behind . We even have a pair of Boba Fetts…dressed in dinner jackets.
Once we enter what will become our home for the best part of a day we have our Galactic Passports stamped and are handed an airline style travel bag. Opening it you find energy bars, polos, stickers, merchandise etc. – nothing out of the ordinary. But rummaging further I discover face wash; even further…a toothbrush.
The lights dim for A New Hope, applause at the sight of the blue text and a thunderous roar at the yellow crawl…it was beginning. Lightsabers were periodically powered up in the audience to mark the entrance of a major character, there was laughter at that ‘Tashi station - power converter’ line. It continued for the next 14 hours.
It’s 9pm. Revenge awaits. “It was meant to start 27 minutes ago” – The Tusken Raider. The noise dies down, the stormtroopers march down the aisles to the front of the screen: “We have an announcement to make”, says the manager of the Cinema, flanked by white. “I would like to present the producer of Episode III…Rick McCallum.” People go berserk. “…Ian McDiarmid, Hayden Christensen” – euphoria. “…and The Jedi Master himself, George Lucas” – bedlam.
Speeches by the cast follow. The atmosphere is unbelievable. The combination of the excitement for the impending episode and the presence of its makers is simply indescribable. They leave, the 20th Century Fox drum rolls, blue and then ‘STAR WARS Episode III REVENGE OF THE SITH’. The screen is bleached with the flash of a thousand cameras – all capturing a historic moment for our group, the first public audience.
The film ends. As I walk to the front of the screen taking the side exit the crowds part. A body guard points to me, a line forms beside me. Lucas emerges from the vanguard – “So, what did you think?”
The whole day was enough to leave me speechless. But then again I did read the novels as a child.
26th May 2005