Remembering Adventure in Star Wars: The Force Awakens

My earliest Star Wars memories are not of the original films, surprisingly enough. The first time I ever watched A New Hope was in its final terrestrial airing before the special edition re-releases, sometime in the late 1990s. I was 10 or 12, probably a bit older than just about everyone else my year. I was precocious, and considered myself more of a Trekkie than anything else: Star Wars never entered my radar beyond "like Star Trek, but not Star Trek."

I didn't really know the characters of Star Wars at that point. Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Darth Vader, the Emperor, and other such icons were hazy and vague to me: at least voiceless sprites in platformers, at most legendary beings spoken of in hushed voices, their reputations long preceding them. The only original trilogy characters I had any familiarity with were C3P0 and R2-D2 - thanks to a Saturday morning cartoon. Much like my introduction to Conan, it seems somewhat perverse that this would be my visual introduction to one of the cultural landmarks of 20th Century science fiction.

So I came to Star Wars from a completely different place from those who first experienced that galaxy far, far away in cinemas back in 1977: people like my mother and uncle, and Mark Finn, who's written a series of fascinating insights into his personal journey (starting from the beginning). And as a result, my experience of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens will undoubtedly be different again.

Scotland Into Darkness, and other thoughts on Star Wars

“(Star Trek) always felt like a silly, campy thing. I remember appreciating it, but feeling like I didn’t get it. I felt it didn’t give me a way in. There was a captain, there was this first officer, they were talking a lot about adventures and not having them as much as I would’ve liked. Maybe I wasn’t smart enough”

“"I had no idea there had been 10 movies! I still haven't seen them all. I didn't want to become a student of Star Trek. I felt that was actually one of the few advantages I had. I was trying to make a movie, not trying to make a Trek movie." ”  

 - J.J. Abrams - just as well he isn't making any Star Trek films, right?

I had some other thoughts on it.  I could do the Energiser Bunny on this with my criticisms, but I'll just keep it to this post. If I think of anything else, I'll just add it here, and not clutter up the rest of the blog.

Star Wars Into Darkness

No Darth Vader, though.

So I've given you my thoughts on the previous Star Wars film, and since I've now seen Star Wars Into Darkness, I think it'd be fun if I did a review of it.

... This was a Star Wars movie, right?

Undeath of the Author and the Vagaries of Sub-Creation

So, of course, the internet is all in a tizzy as it transpires that George Lucas is continuing to monkey around with Star Wars by inserting new sounds and effects to the trilogy in a seemingly never-ending quest to tinker and fine-tune something which many people was fine the first time around. Most of it revolves around this scene:



While I love Star Wars, I don't have quite the same attachment others have to the series, likely because I was much older when I first saw it than most of my contemporaries. Besides, I'm a Trekkie, I'm honour-bound or something. Yet at the same time, I easily sympathise with those who object to these sorts of changes: even if you're not a massive fan of the films, altering such a dramatic, pivotal scene as Darth Vader's redemption by adding a big NOOOOO completely destroys the impact of the scene. Instead of being an understated, wordless, powerful image, it descends into cheesy melodrama. So why does Lucas insist on making changes that undermine the strength of his own creation?

There seem to be two main points of view in all this.

The first is that George Lucas is the creator of Star Wars and so it is entirely within his creative rights to alter his work as he sees fit. If he wants to add in stupid things like CGI beasties wandering in front of the camera or adding screams that ruin the understated power of scenes, then he's well within his rights to do it. Just as Harlan Ellison and J.D. Salinger were well within their rights to demand that their unfinished works be destroyed upon their death to stop posthumous collaborations. After all, he's the author, creator and artist, so who are we to decide what he should or shouldn't do to his own creation?

The second is that once a work has been exposed to the world, it ceases to be the sole propriety of the artist, but belongs to all of humanity. When a painting is displayed in an art gallery, or a book is published, or a film is released, then it has become part of the cultural landscape. It, in effect, belongs to everyone. George Lucas can thus be considered the creation of Star Wars, but in a sense, it no longer belongs "exclusively" to him, but to everyone.

It's an interesting dilemma with many ramifications.

Star Trek just isn't as expansive as Star Wars, according to Robot Chicken

I kind of like Robot Chicken.  It seems incredibly self-indulgent, a bunch of nerds making a bunch of nerdy sketches that only other nerds would get, but it has its moments every so often.  Plus the use of action figures adds a certain charm to it.

I think, however, that their Star Wars specials take things too far.  The whole episode felt less like an attempt at sketch humour, and more like a bunch of pals snarking and commenting on their favourite movies.  Family Guy did the same thing, and I can't fathom how these things are getting releases. However, Family Guy attempted to do the same thing with Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan, but Paramount shot that down. Apparently, Robot Chicken aren't even interested in doing something on not just TWoK, but Trek in general. Their explanation is somewhat bizarre.