Star Wars on Trial (63 page)

While another Defense witness claims that the throne room fight isn't about galactic power at all! It is about Luke rising above the use of "Force," while sinner Dad helps out-and achieves redemptionby dealing with grouchy-retro Grampa....

While another witness makes the most interesting case of all. That George Lucas knew exactly what he was doing all along. That it was intentional for the Force not to matter in the Rebels' final victory. Because the New Republic should stand on its own, made up of a trillion proud citizens who won this victory themselves, and plan never again to let themselves be dominated by mystic bullies!

Isn't this what Matthew Woodring Stover-privy to secret briefings from the Very Source-tells us? That Star Wars isn't elitist at all, because every snooty Jedi and Sith proves impotent in the very end, and civilization emerges to be the "hero" in this journey, after all?

Whoosh. I admit it. I really am fascinated. It's the best excuse so far. I'm open. Convince me!

Though-as I have asked repeatedly-if this is the core lesson, shouldn't even I% of the millions of Star Wars fans have actually perceived and grasped it, by now?

Moreover, I am forced to reiterate that this defense was never raised during any of the past arguments over Star Wars, when Yoda's wisdom used to be a matter of faith among Star Wars aficionados. It arose only after more than two decades and under duress.

Are we to believe this lesson will be absorbed and understood in the last five minutes of the entire series, while fireworks explode and a trio of Force-monsters beam at us out of Jedi Heaven ... without a single character ever mentioning it in words? Saying, in even a single sentence, that this time, we the people will do it all without gurus!

Yes, I do believe that good Luke will start a new Jedi Order that's more akin to what good Qui-Gon envisioned. More egalitarian, like the karate studios that any kid can attend nowadays, adding a little skill and discipline to his or her eclectic lifestyle. (Heck, without Yoda, anything is possible.)

But still, must I point out that the title of the movie is Return of the Jedi? As if that event is the important thing. It is not Return of the Republic. Nor is it Citizens Triumphant.

The title-all by itself-seems to belie the Defense argument. In fact, it seems to say... they're ba-a-a-ach.s

Sorry. But I can't look at this the way my kids do-fantasizing I am a Jedi Knight with a nuclear light stick to wave around. Sure, as Matthew Woodring Stover will discover sometime, I'm an above-average saber-wielder. Despite that-or maybe because of it-I could never identify with all those prancing mystics. Rather, I can't help imagining that I am a dad on Coruscant, or Alderaan, watching my entire civilization collapse all around me, just because a bunch of arrogant demigods can't own up to their faults and behave like grown-ups.

I don't see the Old Republic as a symbol of foolish haplessness. It is, in fact, the only thing in the series that a decent person could deem worth dying for!

Across more than a dozen hours of screen time, the character I most identified with was a guy who got throttled to death in the first minutes of the very first film. Captain Antilles, a brave rebel com mander who led a courageous, outnumbered crew on a desperate mission, fighting to save a civilization that was betrayed. A civilization that's too gallant to give up, even when its so-called "protectors" have all vanished or gone into hiding. Captain Antilles never gets to utter a sentence. But he stood in there for me. For every other dad. For each citizen who leaves the theater wondering-

Well, that sure was vivid! But is this "art" doing anything more than just diverting people with eye candy? Is it teaching us anything at all that might help us save our own Republic out here in the real world? Does it stoke our confidence? In our ability to know and understand? To negotiate, to solve problems, to stand up for each other, to hold tyrants accountable, and ultimately prevail?

I kept hoping for brief scenes showing Leia following the tradition of her real father-the one who raised her. Wearing glasses and poring over paperwork. Soothing allies and brokering agreements. Using her adult version of "force" in the mature way, knitting together an alliance of free peoples. Even a glimpse of this-between lavish explosions-would have spoken volumes. But alas.

All right. It's time to close this down and give the Defense their final say. (I await the inevitable insults, confident that sincere readers will know better. I like to poke, provoke, ask questions and stir debate. CITOKATE!6
And never let anyone tell you that I say "obey!")

What I do ask of you jurors is not so much to convict Star Wars of any particular fault, but rather, to come away from all of this determined to ask more from the next set of myths that you are offered. To at least notice when yet another tediously cliched "chosen one" or preordained demigod inevitably strides onto the silver screen ... or your favorite video game. When feudal inheritance and vague mystical claptrap are put forward as reasonable substitutes for an open, confident and scientific society, built upon both individualism and accountable institutions that we get to criticize and control.

Believe me, there are those in this society-in any society-who want us to lose faith in that new way of doing things. They would have us return to simpler, more regal and "heroic" modes.

Sure, it's much easier to write a violent adventure story with demigods and flaming swords. It was always easy to tell fables that way. The cheap, lazy way. It's why stories like that are so numerous. So predictable and banal. And I say this only 10% as a writer. The other 90% is pure consumer. I want to be taken on adventures that rock, while expressing something other than complete contempt.

Hey, it can be done. Directors like Spielberg and Zemeckis, like Meyer, Kershner, Cameron, Scott, Howard and the Coens ... all have managed to evade these hoary cliches, from time to time. They blaze harder but richer paths. In part, they do it by telling stirring stories about characters who are only a bit above average, and thus far more courageous when they stand up against evil. More realistic and far better heroes than you'll find in ancient myths. Because they are people we could aspire to be.

Yes, I am asking a lot of you. But there's a payoff.

If you demand better myths, they will make them. Stories with rambunctious fun, like Tom and Huck... but also offering some of Huck's wit and fantastic sense of honor. Tales that beckon forth the little boy, without snubbing the brave little girl. Adventures that take us rollicking on pirate ships without making all heroism ultimately futile, all spear carriers foolish victims and all civilization useless.

Epics that don't yammer and preach at us for hours, and then say, "hey, lighten up, you're taking us too seriously!"

There are more than enough examples-I have cited plenty-of storytellers who can take you further.

It all starts by saying, enough.

We want more.

ADIES, GENTLEMEN AND OTHERWISE, and Artificial Beings of the jury-

I've been having a tough time throughout this trial. You've probably noticed.

I've been having a tough time keeping a straight face.

Probably because I haven't really been trying.

Before I explain why I haven't been trying-before I paste that cheerfully mocking grin back on my face-I want to 'fess up to something, in absolute honesty, without any mockery at all.

Sometimes, in the course of these proceedings, I've gotten the sneaking suspicion that the fundamental question actually under consideration is whether the Star Wars films might have been better movies if David Brin had written them.

Now, I know that sounds like a cheap dig. It isn't. Because David Brin is a fantastic writer; I've enjoyed his novels for years, and if we had come right out and debated that point, I not only would have lost, I may well have surrendered without firing a shot.

So let's imagine, for a moment, a world in which Learned Opposing Counsel and his Sith dupes-dammit, I was being serious-in which Mr. Brin and the Prosecution witnesses had their way. A world in which Luke Skywalker was not a Secret Prince, but just a farm boy with dreams of being a star pilot; in which starfighters were merely clouds of gnats wiped from existence by capital ships bombarding each other from distances so vast they're visible only to each other's instruments; in which spaceships spew reaction gases in absolute silence-