I remember it like it was yesterday.
I had sat next to my dad, off to the right in the back of the theater. Tears streamed down my face. I had been crying since Samwise Gamgee had said he would have married Rosie Cotton. Since then, emotions had continuously crashed over me like waves at each ending until now the credits rolled on the screen. It was over, The Lord of the Rings: the Return of the King, and it was perfect.
Peter Jackson had cut the "Scouring of the Shire" section, but I was okay with that. It finished with the same line the book had, the same way the book had, and so I was completely fine with that. Joy overflowed in the form of tears and smiles that they had gotten it right.
But then something dawned upon me, a terrible thought that brought fresh tears, these not of joy:
There would never be another Lord of the Rings film.
At eleven years of age, it was a crushing realization. I had been living with this story for going on three years since my dad had given me the books a year or so before The Fellowship of the Ring came out. I had spent many hours alone and with friends on adventures through Middle Earth, hunting down orcs, dealing with elves; many hours talking about it; watching and rewatching the films; going frame by frame through Biblo's transformation in Rivendale to see what the effects crew had done. It was a significant portion of my life and would continue to be as I would dress up, get more Tolkien to read, join online forums, form friendships around it.
But for this to be the end of Middle Earth--for me it was a very unhappy realization. It meant I would never again go on another adventure like that again. Never see a new part of Middle Earth again. Or meet new character. That was it. It was over.
Years passed and to some extent, I lost interest. I fell out of love with the Shire. Lothlorien did not enchant me as it once had. Minas Tirith stopped calling me home. It was still something I enjoyed, marathoned, discussed, loved, but not as I once had.
Until they announced The Hobbit.
We were going back to Middle Earth once more. At first for two and the for three more, glorious films directed by the one and only Peter Jackson. I dusted off my copy of "The Hobbit" and re-read it. Re-watched the original films. Struck up conversations once more about Tolkien with people.
But still--it was not the same. Pop culture didn't take to it as it had taken to the original trilogy and neither did I. I still went to the opening nights. Saw them in theaters multiple times. Had long conversations with friends. Sacrificed precious sleep before a Spanish final to see Desolation of Smaug. Re-read the book again. Got some merchandise. Delved back into the online community some. But it was not the same.
--
The months leading up to this, the final Hobbit film, came swiftly and unexpectedly. One day I found myself with a dear friend, Sarah, at Disneyland. Both of us being annual passholders, we felt little need to hit every ride and so took our time at lunch to just chat about things. With the final film nearly upon us, The Hobbit came up. We talked about the movies, the changes Jackson had made, what we liked, what we didn't, and the in-universe history behind everything that was going on, namely with the Necromancer.
Having never finished neither the Appendices at the end of Return of the King nor The "Silmarillion," I had little knowledge about the significance of all of it. I understood that the Necromancer was Sauron and that we were leading into The Lord of the Rings, but the bigger picture of the history of the elves, Thranduil's history, the Maiar, the Valar, Illuvitar--all of the was lost on me. So Sarah explained it to me as best she could.
We barely got past the creation story before the genius of Tolkien started to dawn upon me. Suddenly, my prior conceptions about Middle Earth were blown away and I started to see the bigger picture. It was so much bigger than Lord of the Rings. So much bigger than The Hobbit, than what Jackson was doing. It had biblical proportions to it.
I remained in shock and awe for the remainder of the day. Even when I had to go back to school the next week and school consumed me, I couldn't quite shake it all. I picked up "The Hobbit" once more and read through it. I delved further into the online community. Sarah and I resolved to dress as Legolas and Thranduil for the final premier. Once more, Middle Earth captivated me.
The hype built up and up; "#OneLastTime" was everywhere; my Facebook wall and conversations were filled with Hobbit references; gifs flowed in abundance between friends; Peter Jackson got his star in Hollywood; it was distracting me during finals once more. And then, all too quickly and not quickly enough, it was here.
11:00 AM Wednesday the 17th my friends and I began the Extended Editions of the first two installments of The Hobbit in preparation for the final film. Those hours moved slowly, as I glanced at the time waiting to go one last time to Middle Earth, but it finally came. Sarah and I got into costume, drove with the others to the theater, and took our seats. We were ready, or as ready as we could be for this.
The film began and one last time, Peter Jackson plunged us into Middle Earth.
One last time.
--
We laughed, cried, crushed each others fingers as we locked hands feeling each emotional blow the film delivered until we got to the end of it and Bilbo answered the door for a very old friend as he had many years ago. Then we truly wept.
I would wager that I cried more this time than I did at the end of Return of the King, but once more it was not the same.
But it wasn't the same not because of a lack of love as it had been the past three years. It wasn't the same not because of the difference in scale of the films. Not because of the qualitative difference of the films or my age or cultural significance or actors or people I was with or even because I was a different person.
It was because I understood something that I had not understood last time.
Last time, my view of Middle Earth, of Tolkien, had been limited to the films. Though I owned "The Silmarillion," I had not taken the time to go through it properly. It had no bearing on how I saw Middle Earth, only the films did. Those, not the books, were where Middle Earth was and so when they ended, it ended.
But this time--this time I knew better. I know better. I know that Middle Earth exists far beyond what Peter Jackson has graciously put on screen; that there is much more to read, more to explore, more journeys to go on in this wonderful universe that Professor Tolkien has given to us. I know that Middle Earth exists in the films and books, and in the hearts and minds of those who choose to go there.
My realization this time around is very different.
I will go on another adventure, see a new part of Middle Earth, meet a new character, and become familiar with all of them. It doesn't matter as much that this is the last Jackson film, for Middle Earth will always be there for us to return to whenever we wish. It always has. And until the Lord comes, it always will.
There is no "One Last Time" for the road goes ever on and on as we look at last on meadows green and hills and trees we have long known.
The road goes ever on and on.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
"The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies" Review
At eleven o'clock in the morning, on the 17th of December, with ears like elves and stomachs like hobbits, my friends and I got very comfortable on the couches, and began what is one of the greatest marathons of all time: Peter Jackson's Middle Earth Saga (Extended Edition).
We managed to sit through the first two Hobbits, laughing, debating, eating, referencing the Tolkien companion, arguing, eating again, tearing up, eating some more, and wondering greatly how Jackson would treat the ending. Would he be faithful to it? Would he ruin it like he'd ruined other parts of the book? How would he kill Thorin? How would Legolas factor into this? Does Tauriel die? Does Kili die in her arms? Would there be a thirty endings this time? Would Thranduil the pie-maker resurrect the line of Durin?
(Alright, we didn't talk about the last one, but a girl can dream, can't she?)
After the film, we spent a couple hours at Denny's hashing it out, chatting about how they dealt with dragon fever, what would be in the Extended Edition, war pigs (WAR PIGS, guys), Legolas' gravity-defying moves, Smaug's cameo, and a dozen other things. All but one of us enjoyed it (the one who didn't is a purist who managed to get off of his war elk onto his high horse and is calling it progress).
Though I enjoyed it, there were things I didn't like. For example, how they dealt with Thranduil and his wife, but I assume there will be more in the Extended Edition dealing with it. Billy Connolly and his swearing was out of place (but I'll get to what I think is the root of it shortly). "Because it was real." "Because it was real." Come on, guys. And the rushed ending was bothersome.
But I did love it. I loved most every ridiculous battle scene, all of Legolas's impossible moves, Tauriel and Thranduil getting into it, Elrond fighting off some of the Nine, Bilbo and his acorn--I enjoyed it immensely.
Here's the thing: there is something qualitatively different about the Hobbit. We could chalk it up to the scale of the stories, the length of the original text, the pressure on Jackson the first time around, the novelty of the first film--and I think that while all these things are true, there is something else amiss. Well, I think two things are amiss.
The first is tied into Billy Connolly and his swearing. There was never anything like that in the first set of films. The same can be said for the Goblin King and his weirdness in the first one, And the gratuitous presence of the Master and Alfred in the second and third. My friends and I tried to think of what was the difference, what was the root cause of the discrepancies, and came to two conclusions:
The first if this: after talking with her genius brother about the film, my friend Sarah shared his wisdom with us: Guillermo del Toro. He helped write all three of them and it is his influence, I would contend, that is, in part, responsible for the difference in style and feel of the two trilogies. Now, I love some of his work. The Hellboy films? Great fun. Pan's Labyrinth? What I've seen and heard, I've liked. Films he's done creative consulting on like Megamind and Rise of the Guardians? Love 'em. He's brilliant, incredibly creative, wonderful, fun, and not in the same vein as Peter Jackson.
All of those things mentioned previously, and the general campiness of the films, felt like del Toro to me. They feel out of place in Jackson's vision of Middle Earth which has much more gravity to it.
But it would be very poor form to blame all of this on del Toro (plus, wildly unfair, since he wasn't all that involved in the final product). Now, I don't like doing this, but I think a lot of this is on Peter Jackson. (Obviously.) Let me explain why and what I mean.
It felt like fan-fiction. It was indulgent. It was gratuitous. It lacked emotional punch. The timing was awful. Harsh, but, I think, true.
Ninety percent (erm, or so) of Legolas' fight sequences in BOTFA were the stuff of fan-fiction. The bat? The stairs bit? Even the surfing in the shield this time around--fan-fiction. Or Tauriel and Kili and the scene where they save each other from the final blow one too many times, thus dragging out the death scene. I mean, Tauriel is a whole different post in and of herself, but it was just too much.
A lot of it was too much. The war pig for instance. A war elk is one thing. Sure, perhaps a bit much, but there's only one of it. Now we not only have the elk, but a pig, and a few rams. Minor things, but these movies are known for the minor things. Or the over-use of Alfred, the sniveling, uni-browed coward to whom the film devolved far too much precious time. Why do these things? I have no idea other than Jackson was being indulgent.
Now, most of that silliness and ridiculousness I would be willing to overlook. But the real issue the movie had was that it lacked emotional punch and resolution. When Fili died, I should have been crying. When Kili died, same thing. When Thorin died, I should have been weeping like a little baby. I did none of those things. I cried a bit at Thorin's death, but most of that is due in part to Martin Freeman's performance (which is something I'll get to in a moment). I didn't feel their deaths. Not like I had when Boromir died, or even, to a lesser extent, when Haldir died. When friggin' Haldir died, you felt it. And that's because the film breathed properly.
("Breathing properly" is a term I use a lot when describing films. It's just about the pacing and editing and how films allow enough time for the story to take moments for the characters and the audience to deal with things.)
While part of the lack of emotions is a writing issue - Thranduil's parting with Legolas left something to be desired, and Thranduil's final moment with Tauriel was written badly - it is also a problem with the timing of the time. Fili's death was too quick and not executed (ooh--too soon?) in the right way. I've no doubt that part of it is because of the camera work, but the pacing just didn't allow us time. We didn't spend enough time in that moment with the characters. Same for Kili's death, and same for Thorin's death.
Thorin's is particularly frustrating for a number of reasons. The chiefest of which is that they didn't give Martin Freeman enough time on screen to process it. I'll be honest--I just like watching him act because of how well emotes, so perhaps I'm biased, but the editing cut short his mourning shots. The cuts were rushed. Jackson also deviated from the book rather badly by not showing the burial scene with Thranduil which might have given some emotional closure to his arc as well.
See, that is one of the biggest problems though--the incredibly rushed ending. While we all enjoy joking about the million endings at the end of ROTK, having just sat through all six films recently for two straight days I can tell you that the multiple endings don't bother me at all. They breathed right. They gave us and the characters time to process and cry. The ending to BOTFA didn't do that. There was no closure. No closure for Bard or Tauriel or Thranduil or any of the dwarves really. And most of it is due to the lack of burial scene. Now, I'm hoping that'll be in the Extended Edition, but it needed to be in the theatrical edition. The ending of the story was too short without it.
It is frustrating, all of this, because not only did Jackson fail to live up to the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but, more importantly, he failed to live up to the ending of the book. He botched what should have been an easy ending to one of the greatest books ever written and that makes me sad because I love these films. I do. I love the LOTR films and I even love the Hobbit films at the end of the day because I grew up with these stories and characters. They have been a part of my life for most of my life. So, despite my frustrations and while the Hobbit films might be sub-par, compared to their predecessors, I will love them regardless.
Because, after all the problems with the ending of the story, after all the lack of emotional depth, after all the silliness and weirdness, and all the things he messed up, he did, in one respect, get the ending of the trilogy completely right. Because when Gandalf knocks on Bag End's door and Bilbo begins to shout, "No thank you!" we all find ourselves right back at the beginning of it all, in a hole in the ground, with very old friends.
And for getting that right, for all that he has done before, and for taking us one last time on a great and wonderful adventure through Middle Earth, I think I can forgive him and take the Hobbit films as they are to enjoy. Because truly, truly, I did enjoy most every silly, outrageous, gratuitous, over the top moment of these films and shall continue to enjoy them both independent and in conjunction with the book for many years to come.
We managed to sit through the first two Hobbits, laughing, debating, eating, referencing the Tolkien companion, arguing, eating again, tearing up, eating some more, and wondering greatly how Jackson would treat the ending. Would he be faithful to it? Would he ruin it like he'd ruined other parts of the book? How would he kill Thorin? How would Legolas factor into this? Does Tauriel die? Does Kili die in her arms? Would there be a thirty endings this time? Would Thranduil the pie-maker resurrect the line of Durin?
(Alright, we didn't talk about the last one, but a girl can dream, can't she?)
After the film, we spent a couple hours at Denny's hashing it out, chatting about how they dealt with dragon fever, what would be in the Extended Edition, war pigs (WAR PIGS, guys), Legolas' gravity-defying moves, Smaug's cameo, and a dozen other things. All but one of us enjoyed it (the one who didn't is a purist who managed to get off of his war elk onto his high horse and is calling it progress).
Though I enjoyed it, there were things I didn't like. For example, how they dealt with Thranduil and his wife, but I assume there will be more in the Extended Edition dealing with it. Billy Connolly and his swearing was out of place (but I'll get to what I think is the root of it shortly). "Because it was real." "Because it was real." Come on, guys. And the rushed ending was bothersome.
But I did love it. I loved most every ridiculous battle scene, all of Legolas's impossible moves, Tauriel and Thranduil getting into it, Elrond fighting off some of the Nine, Bilbo and his acorn--I enjoyed it immensely.
Here's the thing: there is something qualitatively different about the Hobbit. We could chalk it up to the scale of the stories, the length of the original text, the pressure on Jackson the first time around, the novelty of the first film--and I think that while all these things are true, there is something else amiss. Well, I think two things are amiss.
The first is tied into Billy Connolly and his swearing. There was never anything like that in the first set of films. The same can be said for the Goblin King and his weirdness in the first one, And the gratuitous presence of the Master and Alfred in the second and third. My friends and I tried to think of what was the difference, what was the root cause of the discrepancies, and came to two conclusions:
The first if this: after talking with her genius brother about the film, my friend Sarah shared his wisdom with us: Guillermo del Toro. He helped write all three of them and it is his influence, I would contend, that is, in part, responsible for the difference in style and feel of the two trilogies. Now, I love some of his work. The Hellboy films? Great fun. Pan's Labyrinth? What I've seen and heard, I've liked. Films he's done creative consulting on like Megamind and Rise of the Guardians? Love 'em. He's brilliant, incredibly creative, wonderful, fun, and not in the same vein as Peter Jackson.
All of those things mentioned previously, and the general campiness of the films, felt like del Toro to me. They feel out of place in Jackson's vision of Middle Earth which has much more gravity to it.
But it would be very poor form to blame all of this on del Toro (plus, wildly unfair, since he wasn't all that involved in the final product). Now, I don't like doing this, but I think a lot of this is on Peter Jackson. (Obviously.) Let me explain why and what I mean.
It felt like fan-fiction. It was indulgent. It was gratuitous. It lacked emotional punch. The timing was awful. Harsh, but, I think, true.
Ninety percent (erm, or so) of Legolas' fight sequences in BOTFA were the stuff of fan-fiction. The bat? The stairs bit? Even the surfing in the shield this time around--fan-fiction. Or Tauriel and Kili and the scene where they save each other from the final blow one too many times, thus dragging out the death scene. I mean, Tauriel is a whole different post in and of herself, but it was just too much.
A lot of it was too much. The war pig for instance. A war elk is one thing. Sure, perhaps a bit much, but there's only one of it. Now we not only have the elk, but a pig, and a few rams. Minor things, but these movies are known for the minor things. Or the over-use of Alfred, the sniveling, uni-browed coward to whom the film devolved far too much precious time. Why do these things? I have no idea other than Jackson was being indulgent.
Now, most of that silliness and ridiculousness I would be willing to overlook. But the real issue the movie had was that it lacked emotional punch and resolution. When Fili died, I should have been crying. When Kili died, same thing. When Thorin died, I should have been weeping like a little baby. I did none of those things. I cried a bit at Thorin's death, but most of that is due in part to Martin Freeman's performance (which is something I'll get to in a moment). I didn't feel their deaths. Not like I had when Boromir died, or even, to a lesser extent, when Haldir died. When friggin' Haldir died, you felt it. And that's because the film breathed properly.
("Breathing properly" is a term I use a lot when describing films. It's just about the pacing and editing and how films allow enough time for the story to take moments for the characters and the audience to deal with things.)
While part of the lack of emotions is a writing issue - Thranduil's parting with Legolas left something to be desired, and Thranduil's final moment with Tauriel was written badly - it is also a problem with the timing of the time. Fili's death was too quick and not executed (ooh--too soon?) in the right way. I've no doubt that part of it is because of the camera work, but the pacing just didn't allow us time. We didn't spend enough time in that moment with the characters. Same for Kili's death, and same for Thorin's death.
Thorin's is particularly frustrating for a number of reasons. The chiefest of which is that they didn't give Martin Freeman enough time on screen to process it. I'll be honest--I just like watching him act because of how well emotes, so perhaps I'm biased, but the editing cut short his mourning shots. The cuts were rushed. Jackson also deviated from the book rather badly by not showing the burial scene with Thranduil which might have given some emotional closure to his arc as well.
See, that is one of the biggest problems though--the incredibly rushed ending. While we all enjoy joking about the million endings at the end of ROTK, having just sat through all six films recently for two straight days I can tell you that the multiple endings don't bother me at all. They breathed right. They gave us and the characters time to process and cry. The ending to BOTFA didn't do that. There was no closure. No closure for Bard or Tauriel or Thranduil or any of the dwarves really. And most of it is due to the lack of burial scene. Now, I'm hoping that'll be in the Extended Edition, but it needed to be in the theatrical edition. The ending of the story was too short without it.
It is frustrating, all of this, because not only did Jackson fail to live up to the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but, more importantly, he failed to live up to the ending of the book. He botched what should have been an easy ending to one of the greatest books ever written and that makes me sad because I love these films. I do. I love the LOTR films and I even love the Hobbit films at the end of the day because I grew up with these stories and characters. They have been a part of my life for most of my life. So, despite my frustrations and while the Hobbit films might be sub-par, compared to their predecessors, I will love them regardless.
Because, after all the problems with the ending of the story, after all the lack of emotional depth, after all the silliness and weirdness, and all the things he messed up, he did, in one respect, get the ending of the trilogy completely right. Because when Gandalf knocks on Bag End's door and Bilbo begins to shout, "No thank you!" we all find ourselves right back at the beginning of it all, in a hole in the ground, with very old friends.
And for getting that right, for all that he has done before, and for taking us one last time on a great and wonderful adventure through Middle Earth, I think I can forgive him and take the Hobbit films as they are to enjoy. Because truly, truly, I did enjoy most every silly, outrageous, gratuitous, over the top moment of these films and shall continue to enjoy them both independent and in conjunction with the book for many years to come.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Thank You, Peter Jackson
Many, many thanks to the storyteller who has influenced and inspired me by introducing me to the world of Tolkien and by doing it as fair a justice as can be done in Hollywood these days. While I have read the books and loved them dearly, I can scarcely think of Middle Earth without thinking of Jackson's films.
They have brought me joy and laughter, tears and sorrow; they have terrified and inspired me, stolen my time and gifted me with stories to tell; and have allowed me and many others to go on the adventure of a lifetime these past 13 years. These films have been part of my life for most of my life. I look forward to sharing them with my children and theirs, getting to experience it again for the first time through their eyes.
So, Mr. Jackson, thank you for taking us to a hole in the ground where lived a hobbit, far over the Misty Mountains, to the White Tower of Ecthelion glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, to the end of all things. And next week, we'll follow you one last time, to whatever end.
God bless you, sir.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
For the Love of Star Wars
What sort of film related blog would I be if I didn't talk about Star Wars after the trailer? A poor one, that's what. It shouldn't have taken me this long, really, but pie-induced food comas tend to have that affect on me. (The pie was freakin' worth it, by the way.) Also, finals (yay, student).
But before I start into the purpose of this, let's get a few things out of the way first:
HOLY CRAP, THE TRAILER IS OUT. Who's that guy? and that chick? And--OH SOFT WHAT LIGHT FROM YONDER FREAKING SHATTERS--DID YOU SEE THOSE X-WINGS? And who's the dude in the sno--AND THE LIGHTSABER. WHAT. Oh, man, this is going to--
THE FALCON. THE MILLENNIUM FALCON. AND JOHN FRIGGIN' WILLIAMS. AND SO MUCH JJ ABRAMS. Sold. SOLD.
SOLD. GOLLY MOSES. WHY ISN'T IT DECEMBER OF 2015 YET?
cough. Ahem. Well, then.
Now that THAT'S out of the way, let's talk get to the purpose of this blog post. Hopefully you won't be too disappointed that I'm not going to analyze the heck out of the trailer. io9 already has a wonderful post on that right here and every fanboy and his mother are writing about it so I don't see a need for me to add to the internet literature about it.
Instead, I'd much rather discuss something I should have written about a long time ago, but didn't. The trailer gives me an excellent excuse to write about it:
Do we need another Star Wars film?
GASP
I know. I just asked that question. And right after I said I was "sold" on the new film too. Well, if you don't know me very well, you should be informed that I get swept up in the moment and so in the moment I am sold on the movie, but upon further reflection, I'm not so sure. I'm still excited, but--let me explain:
I won't dig into whether or not Abrams should be making it - if anyone should, it's him, let's be honest - and I won't talk about the prequel trilogy and whether or not the film will be like that - I doubt it. Nothing can be that bad (except this monstrosity which is actually worse). No, instead I'm going to dig into the end of Jedi and my theory of how to watch the movies.
"What?" Just follow me.
For those of us who are geeky enough to discuss such things, when discussing Star Wars the questions will arise, "What order should we watch them in" and its bedfellow, "In what order will we show these to our kids?"
Do we show it to them how we watched them: IV, V, VI, I, II, III and burden them with the disappointment that we felt? Or do we go I, II, III, IV, V, VI and pray their interest holds long enough for them to get past "So love has blinded you"? Even with the new films coming--how will we show these to our children? The argument gets very heated on both sides as people passionately explain why there way is better. Friendships are lost, bridges burned, families ripped in two--
Then some genius, who's name I know not, proposed what I think is not only a better way, but the only way. In fact, I think it's perfect: IV, V, then I, II, III, then back to VI.
You heard me right: split up the trilogies. First, if we can get our kids to the end of V, they are going to be curious enough to get to VI so we will be able to get them through the prequels. Second, they end on a high note without ignoring the low ones. And third - this is where the fun begins - it's the best way to tell the story of the Skywalker family.
Think about it.
We start in the middle of the story, like Luke, fairly clueless about the past, knowing only that some evil Empire is ruling the galaxy. We go with Luke on his journey, discover more about the galaxy, learn to fear Vader (he was terrifying as a kid), meet Yoda and Obi-Wan, get better acquainted with the Empire, all while hearing whispers about what happened before. Then, suddenly, at the end of Empire, a startling revelation:
"No. I am your father."
WHAT? WAIT. WHAT! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. We want an explanation!
Cue the prequel trilogy.
We are introduced to a much younger Obi-Wan, Yoda, and this kid Anakin--SKYWALKER? Could it be? Yes! We go down the rabbit hole and learn about how Darth Vader came to be, what happened the to Jedi, how the Empire took power, the mysterious Clone Wars, a little about Chewbacca, and the history of Luke's family so that by the time we get back to Jedi we now understand father and son and everything make sense. We have a fuller sense of the tragedy that is Anakin Skywalker and are prepared for the redemption at the end of Jedi.
And so when we get to the end of Jedi we don't just see father and son fighting, we understand how close Luke is to becoming his father. It's like Dooku and Anakin all over again* but with better music and cinematography.
What it really is though, is the culmination--the zenith of this epic story George Lucas has crafted. Everything comes together at this point where the evolutions of both father and son culminate in an epic and beautiful collision of good vs. evil. This is what their character arcs have been building to the entire time; so much so that when Luke finally "wins" and cuts off his father's hand he realizes what he learned in the Cave in Empire: he is Vader. And that's when it all comes together--the redemption of both father and son, good triumphing over evil, and the balancing of the Force.
That is the highest point of the whole series and what everything has been leading to. Therefore we should watch the movies in such a way that leads into it.
And that is why I question the need for another set of Star Wars films. Why do we need another film? Has not the story been told? Have we not redeemed the Skywalker family from its tragedy?
I hope you can forgive me as I just don't see the need to continue a story past it's intended goal.
Okay, before you get the pitchforks, let me clarify this a bit more (or make it even less clear): I like the Expanded Universe.** Timothy Zahn's Thrawn Trilogy is excellent on multiple levels. I also love some of the TV shows (haven't caught up with Rebels, but what I've seen I've liked). I own a few of the comics even. And I am really looking forward to another trilogy (as all of us are).
But--
So, Star Wars has a vast and rich universe that I embrace and love, but the movies are a bit different. They are special. Very special. They are all some know of Star Wars, they are what brought us in in the first place, they are larger than life, they are embedded in our culture--these films changed the world.*** And so they are very, very special. And the story they told, the story of the Skywalker family--it was finished.
That's why I don't necessarily want another Star Wars trilogy. This isn't Star Trek where you could continue to explore the galaxy in a million different eras, or Marvel where you can just keep expanding your universe. It's different. At least, it's different to me.
Does this mean I'm not going to see the new film? No--absolutely not. Abrams at the helm? The original cast back one last time? More Star Wars? Of course I will be there, in costume, lightsaber in hand, force-choking my friends as we stand in line for the opening night's first showing.
But what is does mean is that I'm going in cautiously and with a different critical eye than most of us fans because my standards for this film are very high. Everyone's are. But for me, this film doesn't just have to be a good movie, or even a good Star Wars movie. For me, this film has to justify its existence.
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*I know, I know. The Vader/Luke fight is the inspiration for the Dooku/Anakin fight. Not the point for the purposes of telling the story.
**I know it doesn't exist anymore; no need to rub that in.
**Whole different post, but it's true.
But before I start into the purpose of this, let's get a few things out of the way first:
HOLY CRAP, THE TRAILER IS OUT. Who's that guy? and that chick? And--OH SOFT WHAT LIGHT FROM YONDER FREAKING SHATTERS--DID YOU SEE THOSE X-WINGS? And who's the dude in the sno--AND THE LIGHTSABER. WHAT. Oh, man, this is going to--
THE FALCON. THE MILLENNIUM FALCON. AND JOHN FRIGGIN' WILLIAMS. AND SO MUCH JJ ABRAMS. Sold. SOLD.
SOLD. GOLLY MOSES. WHY ISN'T IT DECEMBER OF 2015 YET?
cough. Ahem. Well, then.
Now that THAT'S out of the way, let's talk get to the purpose of this blog post. Hopefully you won't be too disappointed that I'm not going to analyze the heck out of the trailer. io9 already has a wonderful post on that right here and every fanboy and his mother are writing about it so I don't see a need for me to add to the internet literature about it.
Instead, I'd much rather discuss something I should have written about a long time ago, but didn't. The trailer gives me an excellent excuse to write about it:
Do we need another Star Wars film?
GASP
I know. I just asked that question. And right after I said I was "sold" on the new film too. Well, if you don't know me very well, you should be informed that I get swept up in the moment and so in the moment I am sold on the movie, but upon further reflection, I'm not so sure. I'm still excited, but--let me explain:
I won't dig into whether or not Abrams should be making it - if anyone should, it's him, let's be honest - and I won't talk about the prequel trilogy and whether or not the film will be like that - I doubt it. Nothing can be that bad (except this monstrosity which is actually worse). No, instead I'm going to dig into the end of Jedi and my theory of how to watch the movies.
"What?" Just follow me.
For those of us who are geeky enough to discuss such things, when discussing Star Wars the questions will arise, "What order should we watch them in" and its bedfellow, "In what order will we show these to our kids?"
Do we show it to them how we watched them: IV, V, VI, I, II, III and burden them with the disappointment that we felt? Or do we go I, II, III, IV, V, VI and pray their interest holds long enough for them to get past "So love has blinded you"? Even with the new films coming--how will we show these to our children? The argument gets very heated on both sides as people passionately explain why there way is better. Friendships are lost, bridges burned, families ripped in two--
Then some genius, who's name I know not, proposed what I think is not only a better way, but the only way. In fact, I think it's perfect: IV, V, then I, II, III, then back to VI.
You heard me right: split up the trilogies. First, if we can get our kids to the end of V, they are going to be curious enough to get to VI so we will be able to get them through the prequels. Second, they end on a high note without ignoring the low ones. And third - this is where the fun begins - it's the best way to tell the story of the Skywalker family.
Think about it.
We start in the middle of the story, like Luke, fairly clueless about the past, knowing only that some evil Empire is ruling the galaxy. We go with Luke on his journey, discover more about the galaxy, learn to fear Vader (he was terrifying as a kid), meet Yoda and Obi-Wan, get better acquainted with the Empire, all while hearing whispers about what happened before. Then, suddenly, at the end of Empire, a startling revelation:
"No. I am your father."
WHAT? WAIT. WHAT! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. We want an explanation!
Cue the prequel trilogy.
We are introduced to a much younger Obi-Wan, Yoda, and this kid Anakin--SKYWALKER? Could it be? Yes! We go down the rabbit hole and learn about how Darth Vader came to be, what happened the to Jedi, how the Empire took power, the mysterious Clone Wars, a little about Chewbacca, and the history of Luke's family so that by the time we get back to Jedi we now understand father and son and everything make sense. We have a fuller sense of the tragedy that is Anakin Skywalker and are prepared for the redemption at the end of Jedi.
And so when we get to the end of Jedi we don't just see father and son fighting, we understand how close Luke is to becoming his father. It's like Dooku and Anakin all over again* but with better music and cinematography.
What it really is though, is the culmination--the zenith of this epic story George Lucas has crafted. Everything comes together at this point where the evolutions of both father and son culminate in an epic and beautiful collision of good vs. evil. This is what their character arcs have been building to the entire time; so much so that when Luke finally "wins" and cuts off his father's hand he realizes what he learned in the Cave in Empire: he is Vader. And that's when it all comes together--the redemption of both father and son, good triumphing over evil, and the balancing of the Force.
That is the highest point of the whole series and what everything has been leading to. Therefore we should watch the movies in such a way that leads into it.
And that is why I question the need for another set of Star Wars films. Why do we need another film? Has not the story been told? Have we not redeemed the Skywalker family from its tragedy?
I hope you can forgive me as I just don't see the need to continue a story past it's intended goal.
Okay, before you get the pitchforks, let me clarify this a bit more (or make it even less clear): I like the Expanded Universe.** Timothy Zahn's Thrawn Trilogy is excellent on multiple levels. I also love some of the TV shows (haven't caught up with Rebels, but what I've seen I've liked). I own a few of the comics even. And I am really looking forward to another trilogy (as all of us are).
But--
So, Star Wars has a vast and rich universe that I embrace and love, but the movies are a bit different. They are special. Very special. They are all some know of Star Wars, they are what brought us in in the first place, they are larger than life, they are embedded in our culture--these films changed the world.*** And so they are very, very special. And the story they told, the story of the Skywalker family--it was finished.
That's why I don't necessarily want another Star Wars trilogy. This isn't Star Trek where you could continue to explore the galaxy in a million different eras, or Marvel where you can just keep expanding your universe. It's different. At least, it's different to me.
Does this mean I'm not going to see the new film? No--absolutely not. Abrams at the helm? The original cast back one last time? More Star Wars? Of course I will be there, in costume, lightsaber in hand, force-choking my friends as we stand in line for the opening night's first showing.
But what is does mean is that I'm going in cautiously and with a different critical eye than most of us fans because my standards for this film are very high. Everyone's are. But for me, this film doesn't just have to be a good movie, or even a good Star Wars movie. For me, this film has to justify its existence.
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*I know, I know. The Vader/Luke fight is the inspiration for the Dooku/Anakin fight. Not the point for the purposes of telling the story.
**I know it doesn't exist anymore; no need to rub that in.
**Whole different post, but it's true.
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