Lessons of the Sith

Boy, Star Wars: Episode III sucked.

I remember when I saw it last May. I was in New York for a few days for a family wedding and they had digital projection at the AMC on 42nd Street. So I bought my ticket to a matinee and settled in.

Undeniably powerful in places, sure, but I remember audibly groaning at most of the dialogue - and I wasn't the only one. After it was over I trundled out into the greatest city in the world and, you know, found a bar.

I really didn't think too much more about it. Well, since the DVD's out, last night on a lark I decided to rewatch it with my critical eye. I guess it's good when art allows you to salvage some meaning, even if it's not the meaning the creator intended.

REFLECTED DRAMA, RELY ON IT YOU MUST NOT.

Now that we've seen the three films of Lucas' second trilogy, the whole "why did they suck," "are they really kids films" etc. Let's lay all that fanboy stuff aside. What struck me watching the third film a second time was, though it was easily the best of the flawed second trilogy, it also relied heavily on you bringing your knowledge of the first trilogy into it. In fact, most of the emotional moments were tied and predicated on you knowing what happened next. Yet they did nothing to reveal or recontextualize those moments. I see this a whole lot in student scripts and scripts by new writers people ask me to read. A crime drama that spends so much time referencing Pulp Fiction or Goodfellas, that there's not really any room for any spark of originality. The fact that Lucas was cannibalizing himself was just sad. Really, you have to ask yourself, what beyond circumstantial evidence (the "CSI-what's") did you learn about the turning of Anakin from watching the third film?

In structuring the second trilogy, I think the biggest mistake they made was making it the story of Anakin. Because we know what happens to Anakin. The hero of the first trilogy is not Anakin, it's Luke. The natural heroic journey for the second trilogy would have been to track Obi-Wan. Then maybe you could have had an interesting character exploration -- how does one man's failure lead to the loss of a friend forever?

Near the end of Sith, it gets interesting for about fifteen seconds when Anakin thinks that there's something between Obi-Wan and Padme.

Now there's a story.

A triangle! Wow! I get it! A triangle between Padme, Obi-Wan and Anakin would have given the whole second trilogy so much more heft. The friendship would have been messier, it would have given rise to jealousies real and imagined. It would have given Obi Wan some soul. Imagine having to step aside because the woman you loved loved someone else?

Nah. Probably wouldn't have worked. Certainly didn't work in say, oh, I don't know... the King Arthur mythology.

What did the entire "Jedi's must not love" thing serve? And where did it come from? I mean, the idea of courtly love is a big part of the Knights of the Round Table, which is presumably the inspiration for the Jedi.

Throughout the first trilogy, whenever you heard about the Jedi Knights, you got a great chill. It was great. But by the second trilogy, the Jedi Knights became the Jedi Order. And ... you know... not so much with the chill. In fact, more with the yawning than the chilling.

Watching Episode III, I kept thinking that the fatal flaw that made the Jedi boring was this: with the dark side, you give in to your bad emotions. Okay, yup. Got it. That's not good.

But the Good side of the force, as embodied by the Jedi, seem to me to be not about keeping those bad emotions in check (which is interesting, and indicative of actual human struggle) but learning not to feel them at all. And why do I want to watch a film about characters who don't feel anything?

Pretty retarded.

WHEN WRITING GENRE, TO THE FANBOYS DO NOT LISTEN

Fanboys always like to nitpick. And George Lucas is nothing if not the ultimate geek. Fanboys like to know the reasons why spaceships work, and how this thing could happen. Trying to play that game is ri-dic-u-lous. They will find flaws that aren't there. And if you play that game, you'll wind up going down some weird paths.

Exhibit A: The MidiChlorians. No one cared how The Force worked. Exhibit B: Ben Kenobi and Yoda appearing after their deaths. No one cares that that's a skill that needed to be learned. It was nice to bring back a name check to Qui-Gon or whatever his name was, but in a film with nine endings, it just wasn't needed.

Ten or twelve minutes could have been cut from the ending by just getting to the hero shot of his uncle and aunt holding baby Luke on Tatooine.

COOL EFFECTS SHOW DON'T TELL DOES NOT MEAN

There's an article in the Globe & Mail today, picked up from the WSJ, that talks about how visual effects are becoming more cost effective for TV shows. I think they use the example that there are 200 more effects shots now in each episode of Smallville than there were a few years ago. And an effect that once cost $7500 now costs only $1500 to reproduce. One of the speculations is that this, combined with the move toward bigger TV's, might shift TV from being more about the writing and the story to the spectacle, a la the movies. Of course this means that TV then becomes a director's medium, just like film is now.

Once again, based on the example of Sith, and that whole second trilogy: I call bullshit.

George Lucas could have done anything. He proved pretty muscularly that he could show anything. That whole final fight on the Lava planet is some pretty jaw-droppingly awesome stuff.

But the rest of the film, the big ugly middle, is all talking. We hear about plots and plans and suspicions, and never see them. The film finally takes off only when the Jedi start getting offed. At least that's visual.

I have zero patience for the whole writer vs director pissing match. It's why I don't have much ambition to ever work in film. But the thing is: the directors who make good movies are the ones who actually do have an understanding of story.

Most directors I know think in terms of visual sequences, and cool moments, but not in terms of story. The ones who do -- Clint Eastwood, say -- inevitably turn in richer, better films. George Lucas is not a story guy. Michael Bay is not a story guy. And you know it from the second you see their films.

You know what show I've been watching a lot of lately? South Park. And you know the thing about South Park that's great? The stories. They actually have nice, simple, executable, logical stories.

George Lucas could learn a thing or two from Trey Parker and Matt Stone. I know he's developing series based on the Star Wars universe right now.

Whether I watch one second of those series is entirely dependent on whether he steps up and hires a showrunner. A writer.

Spectacle might fool me into the theater. But it won't keep me coming back week after week.

Which leads me to the final lesson of the Sith:

SURROUND YOURSELF WITH SYCOPHANTS, YOU MUST NOT

If there was ONE person around Lucas who could speak truth to power, maybe the films could have been better. Rick McCallum, you hack, I'm looking at you. Or whoever.

But for powerful producers or spec monkeys alike, the lesson is the same: you need someone reading your shit who will call you on your shit. Some writers I know are married to that person. That's great. For some, it's a trusted friend, or a fellow traveller. Whatever. Find that person you must. Or suck your work always will.