If you’re like me, you like to start your day by firing up everybody’s favorite phone application/website, Twitter, to participate in those activities that bring us the most joy. Namely, sharing takes and participating in memes. Unfortunately, I recently found that a take of mine was being used as the basis of a brutal and unwarranted attack on my character, and by someone who I considered a friend no less.
The tweet my extremely dumb friend—let’s call him C. Moore—had objected to was the following:
Ah yes, the Star Wars prequels, those classic bastions of reasoned, civilized debate. If you would like to read Carson M’s astonishingly wrong and stupid take on this, you can do so here. In the meantime, I would like to defend my position.
First, I think it’s important to clarify what I’m not saying.
I’m not saying that these movies are good. Honestly, I’m not a particularly great judge of what constitutes a “good” movie. I’m not extremely well-versed in the technical aspects of directing and I don’t consciously contemplate narrative arcs as they’re happening during a film. I watch movies, I like what I like, and afterwards I sometimes even put some thought into why.
But even I can see that these movies are not of high cinematic quality. First of all, Hayden Christensen is a flaming Jawa Sandcrawler wreck in these films. I’ll say nothing more than Christensen is so bad that he ranks as the fifth (out of five) best actor to portray Anakin Skywalker in some form.* However, even the talented actors—Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, etc.—have clunky and cringe-inducing moments. Of course, this could be because of the bad writing. I won’t waste time rehashing some of the worst lines (“only a Sith deals in absolutes.” Really? Oof.), but I will say that it is shocking to me that producers of this film saw the script and rough cuts and didn’t hire a cadre of freelance screenwriters to come in and apply a heavy coat of writing polish to it.
In case you’re a simpleton like me, writing and acting tend to be two highly-consequential aspects of a movie, so when they fall short, it’s hard for the film to recover. And unfortunately for the prequels, the rest of their crafting relies heavily on CGI that didn’t particularly age well. All in all, there aren’t many high marks in terms of filmmaking.
The point that I was trying to make—one which my very dumb friend C. Caffrey seemed to have missed—is that these movies are still fun.
Star Wars is about a universe. I mean that in both the sense that it is about a large expanse of space that holds planets and stars and species of life, but also that it is about the creative undertaking of world-building meant to capture the imagination of its fans. This is the reason I fell in love with the original movies. There’s an outer rim desert planet where a seeming space-nobody feels like an outsider to the galactic turmoil taking place? Cool. There’s an ice planet filled with strange beasts where snow speeders can race around and trip up giant mechanic elephants? Awesome. The most enlightened being in the galaxy lives in a remote swamp and is reluctant to share his secrets and wisdom? Interesting, I wonder why?
Yes, the story and the characters of the original trilogy are great, but they are great because the world they inhabit is great. It is highly considered and developed and, if you become a devoted fan, it leaves you wanting more.
The prequels were more.
So I guess the question becomes: were they the right more? As expressed in my tweet, they are fine by me. Clearly the prequels represent a part of the Star Wars universe that George Lucas had been contemplating for some time (perhaps existing as far back as his boyhood imagination) yet was unable to fully realize in 1977-1983. But when computers got better and studio executives realized that anything with the brand Star Wars on it could rake in Galactic Credit Standards hand over fist, Lucas was unleashed.**
Perhaps the problem was the fact that as Star Wars fans got older, Lucas was—at least in the execution of his ideas—getting younger. Podracing, Jar Jar Binks, Jedi with Zion Williamson like leaping ability, etc. rankled audiences that had grown up burning out their Empire Strikes Back VHS tapes just hoping Luke Skywalker could stack a rock on top of another rock. This wasn’t their Star Wars.
But therein lied the problem. Fans were becoming too puritan about what was “authentic” Star Wars. The thing is, everything that made Star Wars great previously was still happening, it just felt different to an audience that was overly precious about their favorite franchise (we are seeing it happen again w/r/t Rey and her force ability). The universe didn’t change; we did.
So the point I was trying to make is that if you can get over the fact that these films are rough cinematic experiences (a big lift that I don’t expect of people) and let go of your childhood bedroom Millennium Falcon action figure set (not literally, that thing can only be appreciating in value!), then I think you can find some of that pure wonder and amazement in these movies that came with falling in love with the franchise to begin with.
That is why I am happy to watch scenes where Obi-Wan sits in a diner with his old friend Dex and discusses the intricacies of Kamino saberdarts or where Wookiees defend Kashyyyk from the clone army. The original trilogy set up the perimeter of the puzzle and the prequels filled it in piece by jagged piece until we were ready to start our whole journey again. I enjoyed being along for the ride; if you think about it, I bet you did too.
*The four others being: Jake Lloyd, young Anakin; James Earl Jones, voice of Anakin/Vader; David Prowse, physical Anakin/Vader; Sebastian Shaw, redeemed Anakin and original weird hologram
**There was even a sense of optimism from some of our more obscure pop-punk bands.