Editorial: A Clone Too Far

Let me tell you a story about my first love.

It was June 4th, 1977. That Saturday, like most summer days in St. Louis, steamed under a blanket of oppressive humidity. Polyester leisure suits gave way to polyester tank tops, while feathered Farrah Fawcett hairstyles wilted in the unrelenting airlessness. Trans Ams shimmied on the blacktop like mirages.

Not even the cruel climate could have ruined my day that Saturday. Freshly released from fourth grade, I bounced happily in the backseat of our white ‘73 Caprice (which I called the Mach Five) and unconcerned about the lack of luxuries like air conditioning and decent stereo sound. Even my little sister Debbie’s presence, which would normally produce an effect similar to waving a red flag in front of a bull, could not diminish my enthusiasm in the slightest.

We pulled into the Carol House furniture store parking lot around 1pm. I knew we only had two hours until the show started, and every other pursuit in life seemed to be a pointless distraction from the truly important quest in life - seeing this movie. I tugged and twisted on my mother’s arm, begging her to hurry my father through the mattresses as quickly as possible. He stared vacantly at the wide assortment, as if his gaze might somehow alter the price. Then came the inevitable haggling session with the clueless sales clerk, which ended as it always did - with a stern and determined walkout. PERFECT!

We finally arrived at Creve Coeur Cinema with little time to spare. We whisked past the long lines at the ticket window like celebrities, having already secured our seats in advance; news reports were showing round-the-block lines waiting for this new cinematic experience. After going through the concession stand, I plopped down into my seat with my large Coke and waited breathlessly.

And then it happened. “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away” appeared in blue letters. A crash of trumpets. The title STAR WARS receding into a field of stars. Three paragraphs about a rebel alliance crawled into infinity. A planet with a lonely moon. And then, a little spaceship races away, while being pursued and fired upon by the most incredibly monstrous spaceship ever seen.

My mom describes my reaction this way:

“His mouth dropped open. He crawled to the edge of the seat, put the soda down, and sat there motionless the rest of the movie.”

And so it was that STAR WARS entered my life and altered it forever.

I was not alone that summer. By the end of 1977, everyone had STAR WARS fever. We collected and traded the bubblegum cards (the blue series will always be the best), played Meco’s ridiculous disco version constantly, and acted out our own STAR WARS mini-dramas in the backyard. The following year was even better, as STAR WARS toys flooded a dehydrated market. My basement floor became a STAR WARS museum, cluttered with little plastic figures and replicas of landspeeders and the Millenium Falcon.

My imagination ignited, I ravenously followed the development of the next movie in Starlog and Fantastic Films magazines. We saw THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK on opening weekend in the best theater in town, which was adorned with a gigantic poster of Darth Vader’s imposing mask. We were enthralled by the second chapter, and positively stunned at Vader’s revelation near the end. His FATHER? Could that be possible??

Recesses on the playground became fiery sessions of debate. Notebooks meant for notetaking instead became sketchbooks of spaceship design. We even conducted contests in which each participant had to write their version of the third chapter in the STAR WARS saga.

By the time RETURN OF THE JEDI arrived, I had developed pubic hair and a slight distraction with masturbation, but my love of STAR WARS remained strong. That opening weekend saw us together in the theater to witness the final chapter, and the answers to questions that had plagued us for three long years.

But something peculiar happened during that screening. Whiz-bang energy and inventiveness had seemingly disappeared, replaced by yet another Death Star and yet another rebel attack on it. Rubber puppets, used to great effect in the previous films, now looked palpably Muppet-like. Harrison Ford looked like he wanted to crawl under a bush and go to sleep. The Ewoks had zippers.

Still, Darth Vader’s last-minute rescue of Luke from the grip of the Emperor, accompanied by John Williams’ choral power, sent chills through my spine. I left the theater that afternoon satisfied, X-wings rocketing fireworks in the sky and the sounds of “Yub Yub” chanting in my head. With that movie, my childhood ended and I went on with the process of becoming a man.

Over the following years, I kept track of the little STAR WARS information that leaked out from Lucasfilm. My STAR WARS card collection gathered dust as it moved farther and farther into the recesses of my closet. My plastic figurine carrying case became a resting stop for my baseball cleats, and then later, my work shoes. Over the years, my growing circle of friends and girlfriends led me in new cinematic directions, often in movies with a much harder edge than the beloved saga of my youth.

Then came the mid-nineties announcement of a prequel trilogy to the original STAR WARS films. My heart, hungry for the exuberance of the original films, leaped with joy. By this point, I was actively involved with the young kids in my church, all of whom were new-generation STAR WARS fans. I took them to the 1997 theatrical re-releases of the films, which allowed them to truly appreciate the widescreen mastery missing from their worn-out VHS copies and television viewings.

The first trailer blew me away. There was the familiar Force Theme, giving way to the classic trumpet blast from so long ago. But instead of Luke, Han, and Leia, the trailer exploded with a kaleidoscope of unbridled imagination. My friends and I watched it repeatedly, asking each other in amazement: “Did George Lucas really pull this off??”

As I sat in the theater at midnight on May 23rd of 1999, I felt an anticipation similar to the adrenaline-fueled rush back in 1977. I couldn’t believe I was about to rejoin the galaxy far, far away that had entranced me so many years ago. And then it began. The same blue letters. The same blast of trumpets. The same title receding into a field of stars.

And then, numbness. The crawl talked of trade disputes and blockades. Everything seemed glossy and not-quite real. The Niemoidians looked like puppets and talked like lobotomized idiots. Jar Jar stepped in shit. Creatures farted. My inner child went sadly back to sleep.

I left the theater quietly. I reassured myself that George Lucas was trying to make movie for today’s children, much like the original trilogy had been for me. I tried to distract myself by marveling at the special effects and the effectiveness of Darth Maul. Still, I couldn’t shake the undeniable feeling that Lucas went back to make these films simply to milk the trilogy for more money. I threw my Taco Bell collector’s cup in the trash on the way to my car.

The following years brought two more films in the prequel trilogy. Each one teased us with galvanizing images in well-cut trailers, only to deliver torpid, uninspired dialogue and recycled situations. The films became a collection of oppressive CGI, ridiculous soap-opera melodrama, and coincidental character cameos from a constantly-shrinking galaxy far, far away. While Lucas insisted that these films were for children - and not the generation that initially supported STAR WARS - I knew in my heart that the original films were not stupefyingly dull and immature affairs. The original films had life and vision and drama at their core, powered by respectable performances and fueled by thematic cohesion. By contrast, the new films felt lifeless and silly, lacking the charm and imagination that inspired a generation so long ago.

When the rushed, tie-up-loose-ends finale of REVENGE OF THE SITH arrived, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The entire story was finished. In the months leading up to the premiere of SITH, Lucas told every newspaper on earth that he was gratefully leaving STAR WARS behind to pursue art films. I gladly welcomed this news, as I had, in my adult years, learned to appreciate Lucas’ pre-STAR WARS films like THX-1138. I couldn’t wait to see him move on, and use his vast wealth and resources to create something new, visionary, and unique.

And then came STAR WARS: The Television Show.

With the release of the trailer for STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS this month, fans have gathered anew in anticipation for this upcoming film and television show. The all-CGI production, which finally frees Lucas from the dreaded director’s chair, revisits the prequel trilogy in the time period between ATTACK OF THE CLONES and REVENGE OF THE SITH. In other words, the time period of least interest to fans of the series.

But not me. I’ve had enough. I refuse to give Lucas another dime of my money. Like a crack addict begging in the street, Lucas continues to panhandle his STAR WARS wares in a curiously obvious attempt to pad his already obscene bank account balance. Instead of flexing his creative powers, Lucas has returned to the nest of commercial viability, afraid to fly into the open skies of the unknown.

I will not support this anymore.

George, you can repackage the trilogy any way you want; you can release Blu-Ray versions of the movies containing lockets of Natalie Portman’s pubic hair, and I still won’t buy it. You can create ten television seasons of Yoda’s lost years on Dagobah, and I won’t watch it. You can offer an all-expenses paid shuttle trip to Coruscant and I wouldn’t even give it a second glance. I don’t want your movie tie-ins, George. I don’t want your merchandise, your movies, or your madness anymore.

Like a lover who has long overstayed their welcome, the STAR WARS universe has devolved into an object of scorn and ridicule. Gone is the magic. Gone is the inspiration. Gone is the love.

Goodbye, STAR WARS. It was fun while it lasted.

11 Comments »

I respect your opinion, but lets keep the tragedy for the greeks … I totally agree with the notion that prequels and animated versions of Star Wars are inferior in many ways compare to the original trilogy. For many years I had a love afair with the Star Wars universe, but then I grew up. I enjoyed the prequels despite the bad acting (with the exception of Ewan McGregor) and the poor dialogues. I just want to be entertained, and I will see the new animated version of Star Wars and I hope that one day Lucas announce that he or any other director will adapt for the big screen and/or for the TV screen some of the novels about the saga, in example “Heir to the Empire” and “The Jedi Academy Trilogy”. We are comparin one good thing (the prequels) with one great thing (the original trilogy), unfortunately not everybody can be satisfied … specially the obssessive compulsive fans of a movie. Let just detach from our expectatives and enjoy what we have … and what we have is the oportunity to watch movies as good (or not so good) as the originals. I know, I know … it’s conformity, but is my opinion to this date, if the new animated versio is really crap I may change my mind.

Comment by JAM | May 11, 2008

I loved reading this article, and I have to say I agree with every last word of it.

I wasn’t there when the original movie was released (for the first time) in movie theatres, but I’d grown up just in time for the special editions, which I fell in love with instantly.

I shared the same dissappointment with the prequal trilogy, and I’m equally as resentful of it. Some things are best left alone - if George couldn’t do it properly then he shouldn’t have done it at all - I was much happier with the story when I was left to wonder about Anakins past.

Comment by Original Sharp | May 11, 2008

Oh Ray, as always it’s heartbreaking to read youn excellently written pomes of disappointment.

From my perspective, I could never abandon Star Wars. The original trilogy (even though I’m too young to have seen them on their first cinematic releases) changed my life. Despite the flaws of the prequels, I still get excited by them and have a geeky love for all things from that galaxy far far away. Whenever the real adult world is all too much I slip off into Star Wars fantasy.

Grasping commerce has left crap stains on the classic mythology, but it still makes me smile and stimulates my psyche.

Comment by James Clayton | May 11, 2008

Let me start by saying that anyone who defends Episodes I, II and III should be shot! They are drivel, the bastard sons of George Lucas who still to this day is suckling on the udders of his Star Wars cash cow. And the real problem with it all? We will pay money to go and see this tripe because we are so easily pleased.

Let’s take a step back for a moment. It all begins in 1975 when Spielberg’s Jaws came out, followed closely in 1977 by Star Wars. Up until then we had been blessed by the talents of Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, Peter Bogdanovich, William Friedkin, (yes, that includes Sorcerer), and many more besides. Argubly, the 70’s was the greatest decade of movies ever made. Films created by directors with a vision, with aspirations of expressing themselves by this new form of art.

However, despite the delights of such films of the time, it was Jaws and Star Wars that would bring to Hollywood a new genre of film - the blockbuster! And the defining attibute? MONEY!

Certainly when Lucas arrived on the scene with THX, or likewise Spielberg with Duel, neither had aspirations of becoming the highest grossing directors of all time. Indeed, it was under the wing of free thinking Francis Ford Coppola that Lucas trod his first nervous steps into the world of film making on the set of The Godfather. They were not to know that a big fish and the Force would shape the industry as we know it today.

In a nutshell, Spielberg and Lucas managed to come up with the formula, (not deliberatly), for creating a film that appealed to the biggest possible audience. Jaws was, for its time, truly terrifying to watch, (in a good way). Kids these days might laugh at that statement, but if you cannot appreciate the way Spielberg builds tension and puts you on the edge of your seat, then you probably are the kind of person who thinks Uwe Boll is awesome.

With Star Wars, Lucas had presented the age old tale of good versus evil, but had tapped into the mindset of young impressionable adolescents who just wanted something ‘new’. Science fiction was hardly the biggest selling genre at the time, and indeed Star Wars was predicted to die a cruel death by any of those that had seen early cuts of the film. Quite why the two films captured the spirit of those that went and saw them in 1975 and 1977 can be interpreted in many ways.

But let’s bypass all that for the moment. The point is, the studios had finally rediscovered the midas touch as it were. By god, they probably did not know why exactly it worked, but soon enough they were churning out all manner of ‘big budget’ features with the sole purpose of raking in the big bucks.

It’s all about money.

And, having had blockbusters rammed down our throats ever since, our minds as consumers have been conditioned to accept it. We go to the movies and think, “Wow, those dinosaurs look real”. True, on a technological level, the movie industry has come leaps and bounds over the years. It’s quite frightening what can be achieved on a visual level.

But sadly, I fear that such an influx of ‘money making’ films has filtered our tastes somewhat. Yeah, I probably sound like an old cynic. Don’t get me wrong, I love to switch off and head to the cinema and watch the latest crap. Sometimes you don’t mind sitting through two hours of Keanu Reeves kicking the crap out of everyone, (though to be honest, I did mind the second and third time around). Actually, the Matrix is a rather good example. The Wachowski Brothers had quite a nice idea and, fusing their theory with a blend of pop culture, fashion and martail arts, tied in with the then unique effects of ‘bullet time’, they had managed to present a film that, for all its faults, was considered quite original.

Fair play to them.

But, having seen the success of The Matrix, they decided to milk that cash cow for all it’s worth. I’m not even going to debate with you the credentials of Reloaded and Revolutions. Any self respecting film lover would know and understand that The Matrix was good, but that the two sequels seemed somewhat ‘forced’. Of course they were. The Wachowski Brothers, shame on them.

And, thus, we return to George Lucas and Star Wars.

Episodes I, II and III are special effects driven, designed in the same way that McDonalds is. It’s fast films for fat people, ready to gorge on yet more special effects, wow factor, loud bangs and big shoot outs. Yeah, fine, Darth Maul was pretty cool. But really? Did these films ‘need’ to be made?

Come on people.

You honestly think that George Lucas was sitting there thinking, “I’m so desperate to communicate with the world the original three chapters because it will enhance their understanding of the Star Wars world and the message I’m trying to get across to them”.

No way.

What he was saying was, “Star Wars made me a shit load of money. If I make up some crap about some insignificant planet called Naboo, and some bad guys by the name of the Trade Federation or whatever it was, add in as many ties to the old trilogy as possible so that the older viewers can all pat themselves on their backs at how clever they are for spotting them, and finish off with merchandising everything from lunch boxes to underwear, maybe I could make even more money. And best of all, I can convince them all that it was all part of my original vision”.

Oh my god.

Anyway, to conclude, I’m afraid that as works of art from a film making point of view, Episodes I, II and III fail. They are nothing more than the equivilent of a music video designed to sell a band.

Should you feel wrong for liking them or paying to see them? Of course not. As I said, movies are a source of entertainment designed to waste two or so hours of your time. But when people start saying, “These are great”, that’s when they need to be shot.

If you want to see truly great films that inspire and provoke thought, just take a look at the 70’s! Immedietely most youngsters would be put off. “The 70’s? No special effects”? Well, if you think special effects makes a film great, then you should probably not have read this post.

I’m off to watch Taxi Driver now, to restore my faith.

Comment by Rory | May 11, 2008

@ Rory - I definitely understand your disgust, but I don’t quite agree with your entire assessment of the careers of Spielberg and Lucas.

While Spielberg has made films of mass appeal - in fact, he might be the one who succinctly defined it - his early films blended this format with powerful, well-crafted themes.

In my mind, the bigger tragedy is Lucas. His THX-1138 is a masterpiece of experimental filmmaking. AMERICAN GRAFITTI is a 180 degree turn, full of nostalgia and a fairly radical screenplay. And then came STAR WARS, which is a very bizarre fantasy film that could have failed, but didn’t.

Lucas showed early in his career that he has a keen mind and a sharp eye for composition and theme. The merchandise and the sequels and the prequels dulled this promise until it has been utterly destroyed. Very sad.

The only way to get him to stop is to stop supporting his habit. Stop seeing his movies, and maybe he will (finally) walk away from STAR WARS and try new things.

Comment by Ray | May 11, 2008

Yeah Lucas was one of the best filmmakers in American history in 1977–THX 1138 is a bold experimental film that only has 2001 as a precident at the time it was made, and in some ways Lucas’ film has a better narrative. Then a total 180 as he makes–to this day–one of the best character films of all time, a down-to-earth, intimate character drama in American Graffiti. Then he tops it off with a big-budget space opera fairy tale that completely and fundamentally changes film history. What a career! Lucas was like a fusion of the best parts of Kubrick, Coppola and Spielberg, and it really looked like he would have one of the most promising careers in the medium. And then…uh, he sold a lot of toys. And built a private compound that he barricaded himself in. And produced some bad films like Howard the Duck. And sold some more toys. And video games. And then made those god-awful prequels. And then DESTROYED the original Star Wars, the best thing in his career, with the damn special edition. And then made more Star Wars, and more Star Wars, each time bringing the story down to a new low (but conversely bringing it with more CGI–until now its literally ALL CGI).

Its a shame what happened to Star Wars, as much as it is a shame what happened to Lucas. The sad part is that not only were the prequels poor films, but in trying to make the series center around them, Lucas ironically destroyed the best thing he ever did by never releasing the original versions of the first films again.

Comment by Michael Kaminski | May 11, 2008

I don’t know … the difference between us (the watchers) and them (the film makers) is that they have the talent to do what they do and we don’t. At the end of the day there’s something called free will, that means that you can watch or don’t wathever you want. And I will, not because I have a blind faith in the “art” of somebody I don’t even know in person, but because I choose to. I prefer to spend my money watching movies, good or bad, than spending it in drugs or alcohol or in a casino. I just respect the fact that this people is living the dream of making movies, good or bad. I wish I could be living that dream. And there’s the universal law that says that nothing is perfect … All the movies of Kubrick or Cecil B. DeMille are great? I don’t think so. With the only filmmaker I have a problem is with Joel Shumaker when he almost kill the Batman franchise and with the superhero genre at the same time (God damn you Shumaker, God damn you !!!). After that, I don’t have problem with new Star Wars projects, or with other remakes or wathever the capitalist of Hollywood have in mind. If I want to see the movies the way I want them to be then I have to make them, but wait … I don’t have the resources nor the talent …so, what a shame, I guess I’ll depend on the talents of Lucas, Spielberg and others. And I also can read a book that is better than anything else. Free will, people, free will.

Comment by JAM | May 11, 2008

“Over the years, my growing circle of friends and girlfriends…….” HAHAHAHAHAHAHA girlfriends, who are you kidding.

Comment by Eric | May 11, 2008

Let us not forget that Lucas also wrote Willow…

Comment by Rory | May 11, 2008

Let me be the first to agree that Esp. I, II, and III are hard to watch. I caught them all not to long ago on HBO just to see if my original 2 star reviews on them stayed the same. Maybe in hindsight I would pick up something I missed and would now enjoy them better. However, that was not the case, they are films that if I never watch again I will be fine with it.

Where I respectfully disagree with Ray is the thought that Lucas did it for money. I just think he ran out of original ideas and this was the best he could do, or…. he had misgivings about this plot but the “yes” men around him constantly told him what a great idea it was and so unlike the 70’s where he would have fought to make it his personal best others convince him it is.

To me, GL legacy will be Star Wars he has plenty of money so putting out three movies for more money just doesn’t jive. I think like a 39 year old pitch he doesn’t want to leave the game. He continues to try his hardest but the young guns continue to hit his fast ball out of the park.

Still I enjoy your hypothesis, I look forward to your next editorial.

Comment by John Motley | May 12, 2008

Yeah, it’s a fair point John. Lucas, while making the films, could have been thinking “they’re going to love these movies”. Maybe he just read the market wrong, thought that the kids would go mad over the special effects and so forth.

Comment by Rory | May 12, 2008

The OWF Team