Jedidicy: justifying the ways of Lucas to Man

O.K., get ready for a nerd explosion. Here we go.

Table of contents:

1. Introduction

2. Disclaimer

3. Apology

4. The theory

INTRODUCTION

When the Star Wars prequels came out, I could not contain my excitement. If that had been true only of The Phantom Menace, it would have been one thing. But it was still true after I saw The Phantom Menace and knew it to be deeply, deeply bad: even though that movie pained me, injured me, even so, I was doing the metaphorical equivalent of salivating—hell, I was literally salivating—by the time I got to see L'attaque des clones in Paris three years later. But no, it was worse than that: being excited to see the second prequel after hating the first is bad, but I saw the first one like eight times. Stop for a second: did you hear and understand what I just said? I said I hated the first prequel and still watched it again and again and again...in the fucking theaters!

There is something wrong with me. Of course, whatever it is is evidently not unique.

I grew up on Star Wars. I saw Return of the Jedi with my dad in the theater; I think we drove to Brooklyn or something in order to avoid the crowds. I had mad action figures, yo. I had the sheets, I had the Underoos. I had this. I even had the pre-hipster retro dorky-cool semi-demi-ironic Star Wars passion in the early-to-mid 1990s: there was a time when there was something great about talking with people about Star Wars, when it was almost kind of a funny topic of conversation, whereas of course now the prequels have ruined that. Yet another thing the prequels have ruined.

Summary: I was brainwashed, sorta.

But if you can believe it, I am not here (up on this soapbox) in order to complain. Nay, I come rather (if you can believe it) to explain how the prequels are not quite as terrible as they... Well, not seem. Let me put it this way: how the prequels are not quite as terrible as they actually indeed indisputably are.

First, an unnecessary ranking of the six films, which I'm not sure why I'm including except that I know that people will disagree and want to argue with me:

Star Wars: A-

The Empire Strikes Back: A

Return of the Jedi: B+

The Phantom Menace: C-

Attack of the Clones: C+/B-

Revenge of the Sith: B

[I have corrected partially but not completely for grade inflation. Here a C is not an F; however, an A is not a real A, either. If you know what I'm sprayin'.*]

So that's, what, an average of about a C+ for the prequels? In a series with an overall B average, where the first three films averaged out at a solid A-?

DISCLAIMER

I have been known to come up with elaborate, persuasive theories that are not necessarily true. Usually these are the result of rationalization, by which I mean that my motives in developing the theories have to do less with the pursuit of truth than with the construction of a more palatable truth. For example, I will come up with excuses for people when it appears that they have done something rather embarrassing or shitty, and people will say, "Hm, well, that makes an awful lot of sense, and you may be right, but frankly I think you're way wrong." This is not what I am doing here today.

What I am doing here today is speaking truth to power.

APOLOGY

Generally I have mixed feelings about referencing Star Wars "facts" that didn't happen in the Star Wars movies themselves—hell, I don't even like to treat the prequels as "canonical." I think, for example, that the name "Palpatine" might not actually appear in the original films, I might have known it only from reading the novelizations—I'm not so sure about that, but I am sure that shit like what you read on Wookieepedia is preposterous. I gather that contemporary Star Wars fans (age 17?) talk about what's canonical, what's part of the "extended universe," and so forth; to me, there are three categories: the original movies, the prequels, and total ridiculousness. I mean, when I first looked at Wookieepedia (after a student recommended it), I found myself reading about the Sun Crusher, which "was built by using funds diverted from the Death Star I project": ludicrous. Later I learned that Boba Fett didn't die when he fell into the Sarlacc ("the Sarlacc could never hold Fett"). Apparently he escaped, fell back in, was regurgitated, fell in again, and wound up leading the Mandalorians (whom you have not heard of): "After returning to Mandalore, Fett made a few controversial decisions..." And while writing this I found the following information under the heading "Did you know..." on the main Wookieepedia page:

• ...that Dezono Qua would purchase slaves of various sentient species so that his droid E-10 would cook and serve them to him?
• ...that protocol droid C-3PO once served fungus crackers as a snack to Jedi Master Mara Jade Skywalker?
• ....that Pter Thanas saw action on F'Dann IX early in his career in the Imperial Navy?
• ....that Colonel Niovi surrendered the Super Star Destroyer Guardian to the New Republic?
• ....that Helen and Roric Goldenfield were Tatooine residents who had trouble with a group of pirates?
• ...that Obi-Wan Kenobi once left the Jedi Order to take part in a civil war on Melida/Daan?

No. No, I did not know any of that. I have heard of C-3PO and Obi-Wan Kenobi and Tatooine. But none of the rest of that shit is real. C-3PO and Obi-Wan and Tatooine are real; the New Republic, Mara Jade Skywalker, and Melida/Daan ARE NOT REAL.

BUT:

I am going to draw on the ridiculousness because here the ridiculousness connects to something you can actually see in the movies. (Of course, the central question is whether that's "you can see" in the sense that you can see something apparent that inheres in what you're observing or "you can see" in the sense that you might perceive something that isn't there—the way "you can see" dippers big and small in the night sky. See "Disclaimer" above.) I guess the idea here is that it's not evidence; it's an illustration. It's not material; it's a tool.

THE THEORY

The very, very short version of why I think the prequels have some value is that I think they're like crappy picture books—by which I mean that just as the little kiddie-book version of Return of the Jedi (with like 15 pages and a record at the end that you were supposed to play while reading) wasn't as good as the actual motion picture Return of the Jedi, a movie like Revenge of the Sith isn't as good as what you might call the ideal version of Revenge of the Sith. My theory is that George Lucas is actually a pretty good storymaker and a godawful storyteller (which is why the very best of the six films was not written by George Lucas and the very worst three were). The Star Wars prequel trilogy is like a crappy storybook version of a much better series of films that just unfortunately does not technically exist.

Here's what I mean:

In the Third Great Salivation Period (2004–2005)—during which, in spite of my disdain for Star Wars Episodes I–II, I grew increasingly crazed in my anticipation for Star Wars Episode III—I purchased and played two video games (note, please, that I do not generally play video games): Jedi Knight II and Knights of the Old Republic. I had heard that the latter was much better than the prequels, and it is that game that I'd like to discuss with you (see "Apology").

In Knights of the Old Republic, you get to go to both Jedi school and Sith school. (The Sith, as I believe was also never mentioned in the original movies but only in the novelizations,** are bad Jedi.***) You're given the ability to choose whether to be a good guy or a bad guy, so if you're going down the path of the Dark Side, then when Yoda's grandfather*** says, "Are you ready to begin your Jedi training," you can say either "Yes" or "Yes [lying]." Funny, but not important. What's important is that you know already from the movies that the Jedi are against getting too personally attached to anyone—that's particularly clear in the prequels, but in the originals, too, Yoda and Obi-Wan are both telling Luke that he should give up on his dad, that he should forget about his friends when they're being tortured in Cloud City—and of course they're also always trying to get him to chill out and keep the passion under wraps. The Jedi want you to clear your mind of all emotion, whereas the Emperor wants you to get mad, feel the hate flowing through you, etc.

With me so far?

Well, in Knights of the Old Republic, you learn—this isn't heavily emphasized, but it's clear and unambiguous—that the one thing both the Jedi and the Sith have to teach you in their respective training programs is that love is not kosher. The Jedi tell you to avoid love because it leads to passion; the Sith tell you to avoid love because it leads to compassion. But either way, caring too much about any one person is to be avoided—Jedi and Sith agree!

So now look at the course of the whole six-movie saga. What is it about? Anakin Skywalker is supposed to "bring balance to the Force," yeah? The Jedi weirdly assume that "balance" would mean wiping out the Sith, but whatever: as it happens, Anakin Skywalker does wipe out the Sith (when he kills the Emperor and himself goes back to the good side, no more Sith, prophecy fulfilled). But it's not just that. A big part of what makes Anakin go bad is that he is secretly in love with Natalie Hershlag and gets no support from the Jedi (after having been separated from his mother with no sympathy from the Jedi), so all the Sith have to do is pretend to help him out, to care about how he feels, and he's theirs. But of course Darth Sidious doesn't give any more of a crap about Natalie or the Moms than the Jedi Council does. Again, Jedi and Sith (and Snoop Dogg) agree: "We don't love them hos!"

But so then what have we got? Luke Skywalker ignores what Obi-Wan and Yoda and Darth Vader all tell him and risks everything to try to save his dad. Why? Because he thinks it's strategically valuable? No: because it's his dad. Repeatedly Luke goes against official Jedi advice by making choices to save his loved ones or family members, and this is what wins the star wars. Why-and-how does Anakin Skywalker end up killing Darth Sidious? Because-and-when he is moved by the sight of his son's being electrocuted. In other words, the crucial, most important, pivotal actions in the saga have to do with people acting out of love, or at least out of caring for other people, which is exactly what both the Jedi and the Sith forbid. In other words, the balance that's brought to the Force is a new, third course, neither dogmatically Jedi nor Sith, one that puts love and personal attachments front and center. In other other words, all you need is love?

When you view the saga this way, then all the ridiculous bullshit that happens to Anakin Skywalker takes on at least something resembling meaning. Love is more important than any ism, maybe you could say.

I don't really know. But I do know one thing:

"Around the survivors a perimeter create" may be one of the worst lines of dialogue ever written by anyone in any context.

P.S. The prequels are terrible.

* In case you don't know what I'm sprayin': when I taught at an elite Manhattan private school, a veteran teacher complained that there were now in effect only 5 grades: A, A-, B+, B, and B-. That was a bit of an exaggeration, but true it was indeed that students responded to something in the C range pretty much exactly as you ought to assume someone would respond to a flat F. The idea that "B" means "Good" and that "C" means "Satisfactory" would strike a lot of people as ludicrous. But come on, people: 85%? If you get a C, that means (or ought to mean) that you're ¾ of the way to perfect! A recent article about how Fæcebook makes you dumb was based on a study of college students in which "Facebook users...had GPAs between 3.0 and 3.5, while non-users had GPAs between 3.5 and 4.0." A 3.5 GPA is a fucking B+/A-! This is the average? The dumbest of the dumb are getting B's?!

** I remember being very interested to see Darth Vader identified as "a Dark Lord of the Sith."

*** This is not quite precise and will piss some people off. Ha ha.