First things first... I consider myself a casual fan of Star Wars. We've known each other a long time, we've hung out often... we're well aware of each other's eccentricities and though we may have long periods of time spent away from each other, we'll always find our way back to each other. But we're not, y'know... in love or anything.
Some Star Wars fans are hopelessly in love with the franchise. Some take it to an unhealthy extreme... but I'd be lying if I said that I can't at least see what they see in it. What's good about it is really good. It's a very effectively entertaining series, and even its worst installments still have SOMETHING cool or interesting to offer. The Phantom Menace may be the worst episode... or maybe it's Attack of the Clones... or according to some, it's now The Last Jedi... but regardless, all those films still have something about them that manages to find an audience. The Phantom Menace, for all the seemingly unanimous and vitriolic condemnation it receives... still sits at a 55% critic score and 59% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes. [See Here.] And despite that qualifying as "Rotten" on that site (a system I've often questioned), that means more like it than don't. Even though the story is underdeveloped yet convoluted at the same time, even though the acting leaves a lot to be desired, and even though Jar Jar Binks... is Jar Jar Binks... the movie still captures many people's imaginations. Perhaps it is just because it's a Star Wars movie. But what does that really mean? What is it about Star Wars... that makes it Star Wars?
I propose that the real essence of Star Wars is not actually the story or characters.
The Hero With A Thousand Rip-Offs
The story of Star Wars has certainly grown over the years and become a modern day mythology. Who doesn't know about the story of Anakin Skywalker's transformation into Darth Vader, and Luke Skywalker's noble journey to bring his father back to the light. It's a good tale, for sure. But that grand arc wasn't always there. The original film was just a simple story of a young man leaving home to join in a rebellion against an empire. It's an old story. We'd seen this same arc in many iterations before. The structure is based on the archetypal format of "The Hero's Journey". [See Here.] Lucas wrote the script very intentionally to be a Flash Gordon-esque take on the old monomyth. The story itself is not what made that original film have such an impact. It was something much more unique to the motion picture medium than just good old storytelling.
If I had to describe the real essence of Star Wars in one word, that word would be:
DESIGN
Star Wars is all about its design.
Ok... so what do I mean by "design"?
In film, design refers to how a film is visualized. There are many different elements and production departments that go into the design of a film. It starts with conceptual artwork in pre-production, which is then interpreted by the production designer and/or art director who oversee the design and building of sets, props, and any special make-up effects or practical effects. Costume design will interpret the design through characters' wardrobe. Even the cinematography will affect the design of a film, as the lighting and style of camera work will affect the look and feel of the world in profound ways. After the film is shot, post-production design will include the visual effects work and the sound design. All aspects of a film that determine the look and feel of the world presented on-screen would be included in what I mean by "design".
A film's design is something quite unique to the motion picture medium. You don't get it from books. You don't get it from a song. You don't even get it from a play. Stage design is meant to be much more abstract. Film design is meant to be immersive. Believable. Real.
What is the design of Star Wars?
George Lucas sought to put a grand vision on-screen of this "galaxy far, far away" that had been in his head for years. It had been inspired by the Flash Gordon serials he would watch on tv as a kid. And true to the spirit of a real artist (for better or worse) Lucas was actually disappointed in the results of the production design. He had envisioned something much grander, and most likely stranger, than the film's budget and resources at the time could deliver. However... he appears to be mostly alone in that disappointment. The film was massive success that changed the world and still lives with (or haunts, depending on your tastes) us today. To explain why that was, I think an anecdote from my first video production teacher in high school might shed some light:
"I remember my friends and I sitting in the movie theatre in 1977, we were all kinda sunken into our seats, y'know... too cool to sit up straight... we're seeing this kinda silly space movie, not really knowing what to expect... and when it got to the part where the Millenium Falcon shoots into lightspeed and the stars stretched around us and then it just SHOT away into space... we all just immediately stood up and went "YEEAAAAHHHHHH!!!"." [paraphrased to the best of my recollection]
It was an incredible cinematic moment. Effective in conveying a sense of excitement for a story beat where our heroes escape capture in the knick of time, but it was quite clearly more than that. It was visceral. It was something nobody had ever seen on-screen before. A really cool, almost psychedelic visual... realized in such a believably physical way. The Millenium Falcon felt real, because the design made it feel real. Those stars stretching looked so cool... because the design of the visual effects made it look cool. It felt so exciting, because the editing, the music, the sound... it was all designed to achieve a certain feel.
Star Wars looks, sounds and feels cool. It's what captures the imagination of kids and adults alike, because it dazzles us. It sparks our sense of wonder and adventure to see things we've never seen before, hear things we've never heard before and feel the sensation of being in this galaxy far, far away with these characters and creatures and vehicles and moons- er... I mean, space stations. When something so visually, audibly and sensationally unique like Star Wars comes along and gives people this experience they can't quite get anywhere else, then it becomes so particularly valuable. It was one of those movies that proved something was possible that may not have been believed to be possible prior to its success. You can find the individual elements elsewhere, but the whole package is unmistakably its own thing.
What is more important? Story or design?
The design of a film has the effect of framing the story. Especially in today's world, where marketing tends to saturate us with images and sounds and music from the film before we ever get to find out what the full story is... the design will very much colour how we set our expectations for the story. I remember being taught in film school to always keep in mind what the audience expectations will be and how you can influence that through how you approach the design of any given moment or aspect of the film. In the case of the original Star Wars, nobody had ever heard of or seen this galaxy far far away, and with this being an original screeplay with no pre-established brand name recognition... it wasn't going to be sold on the strength of its story. This was, after all, being mostly treated as "just a kid's film" at the time.
So what got all those butts in seats? The look of the film. The sounds they heard in the trailers. The strange style of Princess Leia's hair. The laser sword sparking up. That big ball in space. That strange shaped flying saucer type ship... it all looked and felt so imaginative. THAT is what attracts the masses.
But... story is what makes them stay.
Substance Through Design
If Star Wars really were JUST cool design, then its value would be pretty superficial. While there may be those who believe that Star Wars is pretty superficial, there has always been a profound sense of meaning to it all. Lucas has stated that he wanted the Force to be a new, more open way of recognizing spirituality. And to that end, the Force was treated as a mostly mysterious thing that you just have to "feel". Obi-Wan tells Luke, "Your eyes can deceive you. Don't trust them." An interesting line to come from a movie so heavily based on cool visuals. But perhaps that's the point. The movie may dazzle our senses, and it's a lot of fun... but in the end, we have to switch off the computer and just feel something.
The visuals in the original Star Wars from 1977 may not be all that impressive by today's standards. We can still look at it with a sense of appreciation for what was done at the time, with such limited money and resources... and there's certainly many shots that still look totally believable (that opening Star Destroyer shot will never cease to be eye-catchingly epic)... but if you’ve seen even just one or two blockbusters a year, then you've been heavily spoiled on epic visuals and cool effects. These things don't impress on their own anymore, if they ever really did. There has to be something more.
In a way, the first film actually had it relatively easy. It was able to surprise and amaze in a way that the installments which came after it had to work harder to do. There were little to no expectations for an original property. You could do a fairly simple re-telling of The Hero's Journey and get away with it. But when it came to Empire Strikes Back, suddenly the freshness and cool-factor of it all wasn't going to get them as far. The story had to do more work. And it did. Empire Strikes Back is still widely considered the best movie in the series. And while I would argue that the most memorable elements from the first movie were design elements like the lightsaber [and its sound] or the Death Star or the Millenium Falcon... the most memorable single element from Empire Strikes Back is a line of dialogue that reveals a major twist in the relationship between the hero and villain. "Luke, I am your father."
Sorry, Mandela effect kicking in...
"No, I am your father."
Inarguably, the story of Empire Strikes Back is its strength.
Buuutttttttt... I still think the design is what really makes it work. I mean, what is it that's actually uniquely memorable about that line? Is it because it's such a big twist in the story? Is it because of the emotional impact it has for the characters and therefore for the audience? Is it the line itself... that simple statement of who and what Darth Vader really is?
Nope. You know what it is. You imitated it when you read the line...
It's James Earl Jones' goddamn amazing voice. It's that breathing sound that Ben Burtt created by just recording the sound of a scuba diving respirator. It's the score that John Williams wrote to accompany the revelation. It's the epic atmosphere of that gigantic... room?... in Cloud City. It's the cold, inhuman robotic look of Darth Vader juxtaposed against the raw emotional humanity of Luke's face. It's everything about the way that scene FEELS.
And in that particular scene, it all feels right. It feels suitably dramatic and intense. The emotional substance of the scene and its place in the story are all highlighted by how the scene is designed. The director of the film, Irvin Kershner, obviously knew that this scene couldn't just be played in a small room somewhere. It couldn't have happened earlier in the fight when they were still in the enclosed hallway. It had to happen after the fight had worked its way to the most epic location. It's still an enclosed space, with the background strongly resembling the look of the Death Star, conveying the sense of Vader being in control here and the Empire looming over the situation. The bridge they are on dwindles, pushing Luke to a point of confinement with the only option for escape being apparent suicide. The story informs all of this, so the design can in turn support and highlight the story.
How can design be detrimental to a film?
One word: Ewoks.
If everything about Empire Strikes Back's design worked for and enhanced the story of that film... Return of the Jedi suffered a bit from design working against the story. This would go on to be a MUCH (much much much) bigger problem in the prequels, but Return of the Jedi offered a taste of it.
The ewoks are a good story idea. They were meant to represent the ability of "the little guy" to make a difference in the world. These primitive creatures with nothing more than sticks and stones are able to help bring down the evil Empire. A compelling enough idea in the abstract. And when you think about that story through the lens of, say... Hobbits in Middle-Earth fighting against the evil Sauron... it works. Because that was a well-realized version of the same concept. Especially when talking about Middle-Earth as visualized by Peter Jackson in his Lord of the Rings films (but not so much in his Hobbit films, unfortunately), then the design of that concept helped bring it to life and make it feel legitimate within its own world.
The ewoks look and feel out of place. The first two films, and most of this film, feels like Star Wars. A gritty, dirty, lived-in galaxy where technology looks and feels industrial, things feel hard-edged and dangerous, alien creatures are ugly and strange, and all comedy or light-heartedness comes from the personality of the characters... not the tone of the film's design. The Ewoks are a glaring exception to all of that. They're cute, cuddly little teddy bears who look and feel like toys aimed at kids. The feeling of them ruining the film comes not from any objective narrative problem that they present... it comes entirely from the sense that they simply don't FEEL like they belong in the movie.
Originally, the ewoks were supposed to actually be wookies. And a lot of fans seem to feel like this would have been a much better way to go with the movie, because wookies were already established, they aren't as cutesy, they don't look as much like toys, and the story opportunities might have actually been better to explore Chewy as a character and his people's culture. (hopefully to better results than in that infamous Christmas Special...)
It's no secret that Lucas wanted to push Return of the Jedi in a more kid-friendly direction in order to sell more toys. And who can blame him? Those merchandising profits allowed him the freedom to do as he pleased, which was always his goal as an artist. (Again... for better or worse.) So the design took a less gritty turn. This continued with the Special Editions released in the 90s, where added visual effects pulled the films in a even more goofy kid-friendly direction in several scenes. The Special Edition version of Jabba's Palace is just... just... too much, Lucas. Too much.
But it wasn't too much enough for Lucas... the prequels went even further. While the prequels suffered a lot from poor screenwriting decisions and poor acting... the general story arc of the prequel trilogy actually isn't bad. It tells an effective enough story of the subversion of democracy and rise of tyranny through manufactured war and propaganda. Where the prequels fail most notably is in their design. It may be cliche to use Jar Jar Binks as the example of what's wrong with these movies, but I want to actually make what may be a novel suggestion: Jar Jar Binks could have worked.
Character Design
Most will say the only way to solve the problem of Jar Jar would have been to just get rid of him. Use another character for any purpose he served, but just keep him out of it. I don't think the character itself is the problem. Jar Jar was clearly meant to be an eccentric character that seems useless, but ends up serving an important purpose in the story. I mean, he's the one who pretty much initiates the empire by moving to vote Palpatine emergency powers. And we can throw ideas around about how valid the "Darth Jar Jar" theories are, and how Jar Jar was actually meant to be a secret Sith Lord... but let's just stick to what we know for sure.
We've had eccentric, borderline "annoying" characters in Star Wars before, like C-3PO. But where 3PO fit into the rough and old technological world of Star Wars by being a kinda old-fashioned looking robot... Jar Jar looks and feels like a cartoon. He sounds like a cartoon. He moves like a cartoon. The design of the character clashes with what the world of Star Wars was established to be. Had the design of the character been more in line with what the established style of Star Wars was, the character would have been more readily acceptable as part of the story. And that would have allowed people to actually give his character a chance. People may have actually been endeared to the character as a fun piece of comedic relief, just like 3PO. Then when he ends up being responsible for granting Palpatine the power that ultimately launches the Empire... it would seem all the more emotionally troubling, seeing this character that we previously thought was just a fun tag-along... becoming an essential tool in Palpatine's rise.
It's hard to get past that voice to care, though.
Is Star Wars still Star Wars?
So now that Disney owns half the universe, including that galaxy far, far away... what have they done with the design of the new Star Wars films?
Well... they've mostly tried to recreate the design of the original trilogy, but given a modern day "polish". To be completely honest, The Force Awakens worked as a Star Wars movie for me, mostly because of that very element. It wasn't because the story reminded me of A New Hope (although I could have done without the Starkiller Base being just another, bigger Death Star), and it wasn't really because I liked the characters (even though I did)... it was because the movie FELT like Star Wars. But still felt different enough to offer a new experience. I thought it was a great way to start the new trilogy, because it set the tone, design-wise, in a way that I felt was appropriate. I was ready to see new things done with the story, as long as that approach to the design of the film was maintained.
I guess the most important thing I look for when it comes to continuity in a series is the design. A series where I can look at every installment from beginning to end and feel like it all actually belongs in the same world is one that feels cohesive and believable. The Lord of the Rings trilogy feels cohesive and believable, because the design feels consistent through all three films. Even when it changes tone, going from The Shire to Rivendell to Moria to Rohan to Mordor... it all feels like different parts of the same world. Then you watch The Hobbit, and the design is different. More whimsical. The look of the films is different because they shot the The Hobbit digitally, whereas Lord of the Rings was shot on film. They used a lot more green-screen and CGI characters than they did in Lord of the Rings, where more prosthetic make-up was used for the orcs instead of motion captured digital orcs. And while I think The Hobbit films may look pretty impressive in their own right... when you compare them to Lord of the Rings, there is just something so noticeably artificial and digital about The Hobbit, where Lord of the Rings feels more real. Regardless of how well the screenplays were written for these two trilogies... Lord of the Rings is just inherently going to feel more serious and dramatically believable on the virtue of its design alone.
The same goes when discussing the merits of the prequel trilogy as opposed to the sequel trilogy of Star Wars. The prequels may actually have a better overall story, that is actually more applicable to the politics and uses of power in our world, than the sequel trilogy does. But the sequel trilogy is designed much more competently, and feels like it fits more readily in the world of Star Wars. That is why I believe we see more critical appreciation of the sequels than the prequels. When people feel like a movie "feels right", it's easier to accept storytelling flaws. When it doesn't feel right... it doesn't matter how good the story might be... it's not going to resonate very well if we're distracted by bad design.
Judging by the response to The Last Jedi, I would say that design is not necessarily the problem that Star Wars is facing, but that the design still ends up being representative of the film's quality. The Last Jedi is a very well-visualized movie, and it tends to feel good when watching it. The problems most people (myself included in some respects) have with the film is it's handling of the story and characters, at least in relation to what previously established characters and themes were set up to be. The Last Jedi currently has the lowest audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes of all the Star Wars movies, at 48%. [See Here.] It's a good movie, in my opinion. But it doesn't feel like Star Wars. The design of the film, while beautiful... is too removed from what makes Star Wars feel like Star Wars. It starts from some questionable decisions with the story, interpreted through a director that seemed to feel the need to subvert expectations and change things up, but without really respecting how it would affect the overall continuity of the series. Luke's overall arc feels wonky now, where before it felt well-formed. The lack of respect paid to a fan-favourite character like Admiral Ackbar shows a lack of respect for the material and what it means to people. The people making these films may know Star Wars... but it doesn't feel like they actually love Star Wars. They're using it to achieve different purposes now. This sense of incongruity finds its way into the feel of the overall film. I remember when looking at trailers for the film, just based on the visuals alone, I thought, "This looks good... but... I don't know if it looks right." My instinct, based off the design of the film alone... turned out to be spot on.
Imagination Made Real
Next time you watch a Star Wars movie, or even just think about Star Wars... note how much the design of the film affects how you feel about it. Heck... this is true of any movie. Star Wars is but one very notable example where the design truly elevated the film. The nature of the sci-fi and fantasy genres allows design to be really creative, and I've always found that aspect of films to be one of the most exciting. It's the reason I was almost convinced as a kid that this galaxy far, far away actually existed. It's the reason the lightsaber may be the most popular movie prop ever. It's the reason all those toys sold so well and made Lucas so rich. It was all just so damn cool.