I have always loved Star Wars.
I’ve loved it from the moment I saw an Energizer commercial in 1991 involving Darth Vader’s lightsaber dying for lack of a battery. Even though I had no frame of reference, I still chuckled when he dramatically raised his fist to the heavens and cried “Nooo!” (which I’m fairly certain was the original inspiration for Episode III’s snort-worthy conclusion).
The first film of the saga that I watched was a dusty, deteriorating copy of The Empire Strikes Back on VHS, which I enjoyed on a faux-wood, rotary dial television on the floor of my grandmother’s bedroom.
I was transfixed by that film from start to finish. We all were. Immediately afterward, my parents drove me to the video store as I bounced with anticipation. I snatched up A New Hope and was likewise enthralled by the mere existence of such a staggering story. Endless possibilities flew through my mind and opened my imagination. I couldn’t wait. I sat through Empire once more for the sake of chronology (even at the age of six, I was a completest) and slid Return of the Jedi into the tape player.
I knew something wasn’t quite right.
In contrast to the mythic drama, character and morally significant plot of Empire, this film seemed to be presenting the semblance of the of Star Wars I now loved as a smokescreen for the marketing of merchandise and the dramatic shift to a younger demographic.
Six-year-old me did not make those observations specifically, but I knew, inasmuch as a child can, that I was no longer watching the same series. I later learned that this had much to do with George Lucas’ significant creative absence from the making of Empire. (He was busy creating his own empire.) Director Irvin Kershner and writer Lawrence Kasdan were free to craft a mature and allegorical tale which would be considered one of the greatest films ever made.
Five years after my love affair, the release of Episode I: The Phantom Menace crushed any dreams I’d had of a rebirth and continuation of the feelings that Empire evoked. Lucas had carried the messy multi-set ending and cuddly, racist children’s toys of Return of the Jedi into his prequel trilogy, repeating his financially substantiated formula with an exponentially ramped up SFX proclivity. The substance was gone.
As a new age of Star Wars dawns, fans are confronted yet again with the question of thesis. Now that Lucas has loosed his grip on the franchise, will the story be free to take to the grounds of brilliant filmmaking once again?
With Disney’s purchase of the Star Wars rights, there are sure to be far more Star Wars films in our future than the five which have already been announced. Disney will be releasing at least one Star Wars film every year, beginning in 2015 with Episode VII (followed by Episodes VIII and IX, with two spinoff films in between).
We have all known about the new Star Wars trilogy since October of 2012. What do we now know about the film? That it is being made with J.J. Abrams at the directorial helm of the franchise. His notorious media silence is well in effect. This is both unsurprising and pleasant considering the rise of FES, or Fan Entitlment Syndrome (which I won’t allow to drag this particular article into the depths of its accompanying misery).
Disney is much too smart to allow something as important (and expensive) as Star Wars to be tainted by leaks, rumors and acidic speculation. If they have their way, we likely won’t hear anything concrete about the upcoming films until the release of the first trailers.
This topic of conjecture won’t be going anywhere for a good long time.
We already know that Episode VII will in fact be shot on film, as opposed to the digital of the prequel series. This means more practical effects and sets.
Producer Kathleen Kennedy divulged in an interview that “We all know that [creator George Lucas’] dream has become almost a religion to some people. I remember reading a thing somewhere, someone wrote about just wanting [the new film] to feel real; to feel authentic. I remember I felt that way when I was 11 years old, when I saw the first one. As much of a fairy tale as it was, it felt real. And to me, that is exactly right.”
To a point, these films will be bending to the attitudes of fans like us, because Abrams is first and foremost a fan of Star Wars. He wants to see a return to the heart and truth of the story that we loved, just as we do.
Nobody wants a repeat of what is known as the massacre of 1999.
Some argue that the prequel trilogy is so hated because of its story: The account of a democracy which, through corruption, crumbles from within—a prospect too terrifyingly familiar to be played at. The opposition feel that it was the clean cities, lack of “western frontier” feel and demystifying of the Force which ultimately spelled excrement for fans of the originals.
I say that we can place blame all we want, but by pushing past each painful detail to see the simple truth one will come to the conclusion that those films were soiled by nothing more than bad [filmmaking.] From casting to script to direction, they were doomed at their core.
In J.J. Abrams, however—a fan, just like us—we may yet have a new hope.
