Rage Against the Empire’s Machine
Revelations of character relationships can be tricky to pull off. That Lucas and his crew were able to keep a lid on so much information about the protagonists is admirable in itself. Now that so many cats have been let out of the Imperial bag, what next? Why, back to the new and improved Death Star, of course. Where else?
For many fans, this “back to the past” movement ruined the continuity of what had been so carefully built up over time. Expectations had risen that things were about to take off in earnest (literally!) with the release of Star Wars: Episode VI — Return of the Jedi. At the movie’s midpoint, Vader sneaks his vessel onto the forest moon of Endor’s landing pad. As Lucas put it in his commentary, it’s time to settle accounts and concentrate on the battle between Vader and Luke Skywalker, the so-called “emotional core of the picture.”
Ben Burtt, the series’ sound FX engineer, expressed the difficulties inherent to trying to match voiceovers and dubs three years after the fact. Namely, with older-sounding actors, vis-à-vis the variable acoustic environments that separate the original edited voicework from their current redubs. Headaches, always headaches. Why not leave things as they were? Nah, too easy. Let’s make them harder for everybody.
Vader escorts the handcuffed Luke to face the pot-marked emperor. For his part, Luke tries to work those Jedi mind games into his dialogue with Papa Vader, a calmer and more subdued exchange than their last one. He reminds Vader of his former self by calling him by his given moniker, Anakin Skywalker. “That name no longer has any meaning for me,” Vader insists, pointing Luke’s own lightsaber into his son’s face. Be careful what you wish for, dad! Luke’s attempts at rekindling some feeling in the old boy fall flatter than the Tatooine landscape. Vader is too far gone in his twisted logic to be manipulated by one so young and so hopeful.
Yet Vader acknowledges the truth of the matter: that Luke is indeed as powerful as the emperor has foreseen. That’s why Luke was brought to Endor in the first place, to bear witness to that time-tested changing of the old guard (Darth Vader) for the new (Master Luke). As he speaks, Vader physically has his back turned to Luke, a powerfully symbolic gesture indicating he’s far from ready to join his son in battle against a common foe. He reiterates that old Sith myth about the power of the dark side, yadda-yadda-yadda. That’s for certain. And it continues to exert a strong pull on its adherents. Too strong, in fact.
Producer-director Lucas exults in the knowledge that Luke refuses to comply with Vader’s command. He will not fight, he will not bend, nor will he join forces until the very end. All this, despite Vader’s insistence that Sonny Boy learn the “true nature of the Force” from that evil bogeyman, the equally twisted emperor. As Lucas pointed out, this is unlike the physically exhausting fight the two combatants had at the end of Empire Strikes Back. This encounter is more of an emotional conflict, a one-sided psychological ploy to influence the outcome through wordplay, not swordplay. Will this work? We shall see.
Let’s get back to the rebel forces. Lucas reiterated his belief that small fighting units could indeed make a difference, much as the Huns did against the Romans, or the colonists against the British in their struggle for independence. This is a not a new idea, he went on, but one that’s been around for centuries. Here, the thought that a mighty Galactic Empire might be brought down by those “cute little teddy bears” is what keeps that new hope alive.
We transition to the rebel fleet, about to jump into hyperspace to confront their foes. Just as quickly, we’re back on Endor with that small rebel detachment about to launch their concurrent “surprise assault” on the empire’s force field. This rapid jump-cutting, in itself, is “proof” of what modern cinematic techniques have accomplished through the intervening years. A physical manifestation of what a visionary George Lucas had implied in his director’s commentary (remembering that not Lucas, but Richard Marquand did the actual directing duties here).
In author Jonathan Rinzler’s The Making of Return of the Jedi, he points out that Lucas’ initial rough draft for the picture placed Princess Leia on Endor as the sole instigator of the rebellion. Along with the cuddly Ewoks were these gigantic aliens, the Yuzzum, whom Leia convinced to join forces with their tiny partners in a battle to the death. Luke was still on Tatooine, trying to rescue poor Han Solo, now unfrozen from the carbonite, in time before his execution.
In addition, the final confrontation between Luke, Vader, and the emperor occurs in a lava pit somewhere below the planet’s surface. It’s supposed to be a three-way duel of sorts, with the Evil Emperor and the Dark Lord having much more than a difference of opinion as to who has the upper hand in the Galactic realm. That’s not all: other surprises await, including unexpected appearances by Obi-Wan Kenobi and the late and much-lamented Yoda. How’s that for an encore!
Ah, well, none of this was meant to be. As rough drafts go, this one was lightyears ahead of Hollywood and ILM’s ability to carry out those rough ideas and bring them to fruition. They belong to the “What if” school of lost opportunities.
Meanwhile, Princess Leia hears from Threepio that one of the Ewoks is about to make an unwise move: he’s going to steal a speeder, and right from under the Imperial guards’ noses. “Not bad for a little furball,” mouths Han to Leia. This maneuver supplies the element of surprise needed for the rebel force to temporarily storm the generator shield.
Back on the Imperial Star cruiser, Vader leads Luke up the steps to meet his fate. The color red predominates. “Evil, the red devil,” claimed Lucas. “The bad guys,” in the book according to George, “exist in a black and white world. The good guys live in an organic world, which is either browns, light browns, tans, or greens.” Earth tones, in other words, warm and approachable. Whereas the bad guys reside in a world of absolutes, a mechanical world where views are cold and rigid. Indeed, they are!
The emperor greets Young Skywalker with his usual false courtesy. “In time, you will call me master,” he boasts, in that bullfrog’s voice of his. Ugh, he’s as much of a badass, if not worse than, that slimy old toad, the late Jabba the Hutt. Fascinating how the emperor’s makeshift throne gives the appearance, through spokes that make up the window frames behind him, of a spider’s web. So that’s it! The Evil Emperor is a big, black hungry bug hunter, “luring the flies into his web,” Lucas remarked. Added to which, he’s so full of himself, so sure in his ability to foresee events as they are about to unfold. However, prescience and advance knowledge, in our view, have made the old bloke overconfident.
The man in black gives notice to Luke that, one: his friends on Endor are walking into a trap; and two, so is the rebel fleet (to be reinforced by Admiral Akbar’s oft-quoted line, “It’s a trap!”). Never one to overlook the obvious, the emperor senses that Luke wants his lightsaber to strike down the old fogey before his plan works its magic. No sooner has the evil one spilled the beans on what’s about to happen when we transition back to where the rebel force enter the area guarded by the force field. They’re thwarted in their mission by Stormtroopers and other guards. Look quickly for Ben Burtt’s cameo, as he speaks the word “Freeze,” prior to getting a toolkit thrown at his noggin.
We’re just in time for the next memorable line: “You rebel scum!” Eew, don’t you hate it when they say that? To compensate, Burtt tells listeners about a young Kenyan man who spoke the words of one of the rebel co-pilots in his native tongue. They dubbed in the lines, which when the film was shown in Kenya, drew raves from an appreciative audience. Just in time, too, to enjoy the marvelous FX of incoming TIE fighters, flying in and out of formation, battling it out with those X-wings, all courtesy of blue screen, scale models, and computer-aided programming. Lucas confessed that, originally, there was to be only one Death Star and one giant battle involving not the Ewoks (a reworking of the name “Wookiee”) but the Wookiees themselves. Still, as we all know, the best laid plans can often go awry.
Back on the Imperial star cruiser, the emperor goads Luke on into reacting to his repugnant sayings — daring him to strike him down “with all his hatred,” thus letting slip the angry dogs of war that will turn him to the dark side of life. Flash forward to the rebel base, where things do not look well for our friends. Nice feel of the Imperial Walkers lurking about, which segues directly to the amassed Ewok attack. Finally, somebody’s doing something to stop the bad guys from winning.
Again, it’s a sheer joy to hear our furry friends sound the battle cry of freedom, a tune straight out of Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments (if you’re into useless trivia). Against the combined might of Imperial forces, the Ewoks hurl their bows and arrows at the oncoming hordes. If you’re thinking Robin Hood and His Merry Men, battling the Sheriff of Nottingham in Sherwood Forest, you’re right on the money. They even used the same type of feathers that give the arrows that “swish” sound.
Believability is the key, as the seesawing confrontation goes back and forth. The Ewoks are up, the Ewoks are down. True, they’re no match for the Galactic Empire’s high-tech might. Still, to cast the Ewoks as the disruptive element that distracts and saps the strength of a superior foe made audiences root for their success all the more. In this, Lucas and company did not disappoint.
We return to the emperor’s throne room. He’s still trying to get Luke to work up a head of steam, in order to blow his top off at Papa. Words, words, and more words. A torrent of lies — all aimed at poor Luke, the venom unleashed in slow, steady strokes. The anger begins to well up in our hero. You can practically hear audiences whispering under their collective breath: “Don’t give in, Luke!” Though he wants Luke to strike him down with all his might, the emperor knows that his ultimate aim is to get Luke to kill his father, then take dad’s place beside the emperor.
It’s the age-old “point of succession” theory: you don’t REALLY want that person to take your place, now, do you? You want him or her to THINK that’s what they’re doing. This same illogic will reoccur in Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi (2017), specifically in Rey’s make-or-break clash with Snoke, another pot-marked baddie. The truth is, you’re the next victim of the emperor’s whims. He’ll use and abuse you, until you’re spent and done. Then along comes another bright whippersnapper to take your place, and we’re back at it again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
It’s Siegfried turning on Grandpa Wotan/Wanderer and marrying Aunt Brünnhilde; it’s Oedipus slaying his father Laius to marry his mother Jocasta. And BINGO! You’ve got a whale of a Greek and Norse tragedy, if not a helluva tale. Well, if it’s Luke murdering his dada, then taking up with a monster who’s got no blood relation to him at all, then you’ve got yourself an unresolved conflict — and a winning formula guaranteed to earn boffo box office returns as well as the audience’s sympathy.
In the meantime, the tide of battle begins to turn when Chewie, our eight-foot Wookiee wonder, joins in the frolic by volunteering his fair share of service to the rebel cause. The Ewoks, those little Vietnamese counterparts, inflict enough damage on the opposition that it allows our friends, the sidelined Leia and still-clueless Han, to hold the advantage.
Example: A wounded Leia lies on the ground. As Imperial Stormtroopers approach, Han, who’s bent down to assist Her Highness, covers up the fact that she’s pulled a laser weapon on the troopers. “I love you,” Han whispers. “I know,” Leia answers back, reversing the same snappy give-and-take quips they hurled at each other toward the end of The Empire Strikes Back. A nice, full-circle loop to their classic Tracy and Hepburn routine, a love-hate relationship for the space age.
It’s Over and Done With (For Now)
We approach the crux of the drama, which to most fans involves the best sequence of all: that of Luke and Vader’s final battle. This fabulous match-up spills over into the very bowels of the craft (in another nod to Warner Brothers’ classic The Adventures of Robin Hood). A dip into Hell itself, but not the physical lava-filled landscape that will take place in the as-yet-to-have-been-filmed Episode Three: Revenge of the Sith. No, that’s yet to come. This is a Hell of the protagonists’ making, placed before them by the machinations of a thoroughly malevolent being.
According to George Lucas, the emperor’s primary objective is to make Luke angry. Knowing that anger has the affect of turning the Jedi to the dark side, Luke employs reverse psychology in his banter with Vader. “Your thoughts betray you, Father. I feel the good in you, the conflict.” Vader replies smoothly: “There is no conflict.” But Luke does not budge. He presses on with the verbal onslaught, insisting he will not fight. To do so, will only lead Luke down the path to the dark side, a no-no in anybody’s book.
As the rebel forces seem to reverse their earlier losses, Vader seeks out Luke in the underbelly of the emperor’s throne room. We hear his slow and steady breathing, an ominous growl that telegraphs to audiences to beware the Big Bad Bear. If you poke him, he will respond. At this point, Vader tries a different tack, using Luke’s model of reverse logic but taking it to another realm entirely: that of the emotions. Vader senses Luke’s fondness for his friends, especially for one in particular: his sister Leia!
Instinct has informed the Dark Lord that sheer force of arms won’t turn his son into a Sith. This leaves him no choice: Vader must fight fire with fire. And, boy, does he unload the big one on our unsuspecting hero. “If you will not turn to the dark side… then perhaps she will.” That did it. Luke immediately goes into action mode: “Never!” he shouts, pointing his lightsaber directly at dear old dad.
Their duel to the death is the highlight of the series. And it’s here that this 1983 Star Wars entry finally approaches the grandeur it has so far lacked; where the clash of titans elevates the saga to the operatic, made all-the-more potent through John Williams’s use of underscoring and a wordless, mixed chorus of voices. The basic thrust of the action accompanying the “music” is the lightsaber duel that gives off plenty of sparks in themselves. They supply their own musical tones, along with appropriate CGI-effects. The dominant colors, then, are red and green: red (bad, evil), for the Sith; and green (good, virtuous), for the Jedi.
The sequence climaxes with Luke’s hacking away at Vader’s weapon. Finally, the Dark Lord releases his lightsaber, perfectly timed to Luke’s slicing of his father’s right hand — the same right hand that Vader had sliced off in their earlier battle in The Empire Strikes Back. This brings out the gloating, bile-spilling emperor, wallowing in the carnage and exhorting Luke to fulfill his destiny by taking his father’s place at the old geezer’s side. Go on, dude, finish him off!
Not so fast! Luke takes a long, hard look at his black-gloved hand (appropriate, in this context) and compares it to what’s left of his father’s mechanical stump. “Never,” he finally responds, but in a much quieter, self-controlled mode than before. “I’ll never turn to the dark side.” Gasp, gulp! Luke finishes his speech by asserting his firm stance against further harm: “I am a Jedi, like my father before me.” And how does the emperor react? In typically villainous fashion: “So be it, Jedi,” spilled out with all the relish that are in the evil fiend’s capacity.
Having accomplished what they set out to do, producer Lucas, director Marquand, and co-screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan wrap up what’s left over, story-wise, in a purportedly tight little bow. For one, the shield generator is destroyed, which brings down the force field; and for another, the rebels resume their nonstop attack on Death Star II. Go get ’em, boys!
Okay, that’s one plot element out of the way. Now, what about Luke and the Evil Emperor? An interesting juxtaposition between two opposing forces, but do you really need to know the outcome? I mean, isn’t it obvious that Luke will prevail, or that Vader will do an about-face by picking up and tossing that vile emperor into the Death Star II’s nuclear reactor pit, or whatever you call it? We need not go into specifics. The only genuine thrill is the ultimate revelation of what’s behind the dark helmet. Who’s underneath that evil exterior, anyway? Why, it’s a kindly old, worm-bitten English gent (Sebastian Shaw). Oh, gee, how nice! Just before the big reveal, as Vader drops the emperor into that nuclear frying pan (how the heck did he lift the fiend with only one usable limb?), a brief glimpse of a skeletal skull is flashed across his lordship’s dark visage. Whew! Talk about evil escaping!
Of course, the Death Star II will be eliminated. And of course, the explosion will be mammoth sized in proportion to its surroundings, but patently anticlimactic. Down goes the Imperial trawler. Up comes Master Luke as he tries to rescue dad from the flaming wreck, but dad can’t make it. So, the kindly old British gent expires, breathing his last with what looks like Bob Dylan or Neil Young’s harmonica strapped to his kisser. Good, Lord! Didn’t anyone see the connection? I sure did. Another one bites the dust, making room for the new and improved. Time to play a happy tune, for once! Hit it, Darth!!!
That final, massive Death Star II explosion unleashes a spontaneous celebration on Endor. Ah, but there’s one last plot point to be resolved: Han learns that Leia is related to Luke by birth. And, boy, is he clueless about it to the end. Man, what a sap! And a clear disappointment to Solo’s millions of fans: a slam-bang, much-admired hero turned into a simpleton with a whimper and a kiss. Speaking of which, Little Wicket emerges from the underbrush, spreading good cheer about their victory against the Empire.
The final wrap-up of events includes Luke’s burning of his dad’s remains. How he managed to heave Vader’s hefty carcass up the gangplank and into his fighter craft is anybody’s guess. (Hint: He used the Force.) This is followed by an extended glimpse into other planetary celebrations extolling the rebels’ victory. Whoopee!
My biggest and loudest complaint was, is, and will forever remain the replacement of that wonderful little Ewok song and dance number (so apropos in this context) with a totally unsatisfactory, minor, minor, and I do mean minor musical interlude. Hey, where’s the chorus? After they made their first “appearance” in the duel to end all duels, Lucas decided to drop them? Fans won’t hear another vocal display of this magnitude until Episode I: The Phantom Menace, in the climactic “Duel of the Fates” sequence. In the interim, shame on you, John Williams, for giving in to this charade! This must have been Lucas’ biggest faux pas; one I’ve learned to revile and despise from the minute I heard it.
The other egregious example of gratuitous, self-congratulatory exploitation is Lucas’ replacement of reliable old Sebastian Shaw, as Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, with (get ready for it….) the figure of young Hayden Christensen as an allegedly adult, whiny-voiced Anakin, in long-flowing priestly Jedi robes no less. AAARRGHH!!! Spare me from washed up producer-directors, please!!!
Beginning of the End, or End of the Beginning?
Throughout their struggles, the Star Wars characters have indeed changed. They have undergone immense transformations in how they think and how they act. They’ve evolved into areas one could never have possibly envisioned: from the series’ humble beginnings in 1977 to their blockbuster 1983 ending. This, then, is what has made Star Wars so beloved by fans.
The three earlier films can be looked at by each succeeding generation as a continuously evolving epic saga on the grandest of scales — a modern myth for Baby Boomers, millennials, Generation-Xers, -Yers, -Zers, and whichever part of the alphabet comes next; both nerds and geeks everywhere, and from sci-fi freaks, computer whizzes, and wimpy kids, to anything and everything in between.
We’ve all grown up, we’ve all grown old, matured, or become more infantile (if you prefer) with age. Similarly, the series has encompassed all phases of our lives. Indeed, for nearly two generations the Star Wars series has been such an integral part of our youth, and our movie-going experience, that as time passes it gets harder and harder to let go. Before our eyes, and in three back-to-back episodes, the struggles of the main protagonists — and numerous side characters — have meant many things to many people.
We see the father we never knew. We meet the sister we’ve come to love. We’ve made close contacts, lifelong companions, and hardened foes: the bonds that never break, and the ones that should have broken. We’ve welcomed furry little bear-like creatures into our homes, along with eight-foot-tall walking carpets. Other fantastic creations, such as robots, droids, rocket ships galore, blasters, and galaxies so far, far away; daring escapades, split-second space travel, incredible floating cities in the sky; the villains you love to hate, the characters you hate to lose — an infinite technological and emotional universe where wonders never cease to amaze.
America, too, has changed. The country has evolved from the pure innocence of postwar prosperity to middle-aged anxiety, holding on to an ever-more unattainable cultural dominance and influence. On the debit side, we’ve become incapable of resolving the complex issues that were once so easily within our grasp. Indeed, the country has advanced into another sphere entirely, certainly apart from the vaunted vision the movies had formerly inspired.
In a scant thirty years, our military forces have, indeed, become powerful, as our leaders have foreseen. They are the envy of the planet; while our prestige and honor, at home and abroad, as the symbol of truth, justice, liberty, and fair play, have begun to erode. Only the old saying that “might makes right” appears to have been retained. Can we prevent, or at the least circumvent, our own downfall? Can the ultimate fate of our nation be stemmed by a reversal in policy, or will we be brought to our knees, as the errant Darth Vader was, by the pure faith, innocence, and belief of a young Luke Skywalker, before it is too late?
George Lucas and his film empire have evolved as well and grown to Babylonian proportions. His Lucasfilms, ILM (Industrial Light and Magic), THX certification (after Tomlinson Holman, a colleague of Lucas), and CGI-equipped workshops have labored over a number of projects: from Jurassic Park and Robocop to Titanic and well beyond. His special FX wizards Paul Tippett, Dennis Murren, Stan Winston, Jim Henson’s creature workshop, Frank Oz, and all the puppeteers and purveyors of movie magic, have outpaced the actual work done by Old Georgie, who’s always considered himself more of a visionary producer and merchandiser than a director. I’m inclined to agree.
The special FX created for the original Star Wars films, while big, bombastic, and superior to anything from the 1930s or ‘40s before it, were detailed and finely rendered; there was a tactile beauty, a brilliance and a sheen to the scale models of impressive battle cruisers and intergalactic freighters. Part of the beauty of the Millennium Falcon and other sturdy spacecraft was that they had a solidity to them, that “used and lived in” look so endearing to us fans.
But as the original Star Wars epics have concluded their second and third series of stories, the more technologically advanced digital realm of the cinema has superseded the model-based Millennium Falcon of old. The charm, daring, and over-arching idealism of a brash, cheeky techno-geek named George Lucas have given way to the stale, standard, and joyless digital exercises of today, those utterly devoid of character and appeal.
Lucas’ “revivification” of the Star Wars series, with Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Episode II: Attack of the Clones, and Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, were box office hits, no doubt of that; but they were also emotionally barren, dramatically inert, and technically nullified duds, barely registering on the human scale, but gigantic on the technological meter and desktop front.
Similar to the pleas above, can the series itself survive its long-prophesied demise? The latter entries were promising at best, but ultimately failed to recapture the spirit of the originals. Can we stem the ultimate tide? And can we bring it to its knees, as previously described, in the way Darth Vader was forced to do by the strength and power of the Force and its followers — those purveyors of the pure faith, the keepers of the Jedi flame — with the same innocence, naïveté, and belief that an optimistic, incorruptible Luke Skywalker had experienced, before it is too late?
We cannot provide the answers, only more questions. However, let me leave readers with this final word, a message from the great beyond, received directly from the source: May the Force be with us … always! Φ
Copyright © 2022 by Josmar F. Lopes
Curtain Going Up! 
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