by David Brin
Some people-yes, I'm looking at you, Counselor-would respond with the GIGO argument: garbage in, garbage out. Fill a kid's head with junk science, and junk science will be all he ever learns. This is absurd. Do we still believe in Santa Claus as adults? Do we still leave teeth under our pillows, hoping to make a quick buck? By the time we reach adulthood we are quite able to distinguish between reality and fantasy, because we have learned the rules.
Science is, by definition, a process of exclusion; it is the method by which we figure out what can't be done. As a useful tool for intelligent beings, it's terrific. As a philosophy, it's not so good.
Please, please, put down your weapons. All I'm saying is that no matter how vital or useful science is, it needs an emotional counterweight; it needs compassion, curiosity, inspiration. It needs imagination. It needs balance.
Perhaps this is the most contradictory yet profound message in the entire trilogy. Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One, the one who will bring balance to the Force. At the time of his birth, there are many Jedi Knights and only two Sith Lords; thus, it would seem that bringing balance to the Force would consist of slaughtering a whole bunch of Jedi. This is exactly what happens.
Was this a good thing?
Yes.
Because, no matter how nice the Jedi seem, no matter how evil the Sith are, they both represent natural forces. The Jedi are selfless and the Sith selfish; the Jedi champion freedom, the Sith believe in control.
Neither system can be allowed too much power. A free, democratic society can be corrupted by manipulative individuals like the Emperor; a tyrannical dictatorship with all of its power concentrated in an ultimate weapon or despotic ruler can be destroyed by a single skilled pilot or champion. Impose order and you destroy free will; give people unchecked freedom and the system will tear itself apart in bickering and civil war.
The Jedi do not represent science. They represent chaos ... and chaos is necessary for freedom. Chaos is all those things we don't understand but are driven to try. Chaos is imagination; chaos is the new, the unknown, the mystery. Chaos is childhood. No, we don't want to live in world run by children-but we don't want to live in a world without them, either.
The Star Wars universe is like a Zen hoan, an inherently contradictory saying that is not meant to make sense, but rather to stimulate thinking. In closing, I would like to leave you with my favorite koan from Episode III, spoken by the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi during his climactic battle with his apprentice:
"Only the Sith think in absolutes."
Nothing further, Your Honor....
Don DeBrandt has been accused of authoring The Quicksilver Screen, Steeldriver, Timberjak, V.I. and the Angel novel Shakedown, as well as writing several books under the pseudonym Donn Cortez: The Closer, a thriller, The Man Burns Tonight, a mystery set at Burning Man, and the CSI:Miami novels Cult Following, Riptide, and the upcoming two-part Harm For the Holidays. He does not deny these charges.
THE COURTROOM
DAVID BRIN: Lovely. What fun. And, of course, as you point out, fun is the main point of entertainments such as Star Wars.
And yet...
... and yet, Mr. DeBrandt, are you telling us that a story must either be fun or intelligent?
Let me put it to you that there are counterexamples. Books and tales and movies that both entertain and give a nod or two in the direction of craftsmanship, plotting, consistency and something for the adult in us to chew upon.
Wasn't Raiders of the Lost Ark just such a marvel? Combining rollicking lowbrow fun with remarkable internal consistency and some thrilling glimpses at a few really big ideas? Don't many of us feel that way about The Empire Strikes Back? George Lucas took part in those works. He saw that they were good and beloved. So, could it have hurt to incorporate a little consistency and brains and heart-and maybe a smidgen of maturity-into the other films, as well? What resources were lacking? Money? Time?
Certainly none of those things, which George Lucas had, and plenty. So I submit to you, Mr. DeBrandt, wasn't the missing ingredient something called respect?
DON DEBRANDT: My esteemed colleague misconstrues my point. A story can be fun, or intelligent, or both. Certainly, those stories that manage to incorporate both are of a much higher quality than a story that ignores one in favor of the other.
While there is a single, defining element lacking in the Star Wars movies, it isn't respect. It's a composite of those things you've already mentioned: consistency, brains, heart and maturity.
It's sense.
In order to fully enjoy the spectacle of Star Wars, you must suspend your disbelief. Every mistake, every contradiction, every single piece of information that just doesn't compute interferes with that process. But the universe Lucas has created is so fascinating, so fun, we want to believe; and so, rather than simply ignoring that which doesn't make sense, we put our imaginations and minds in gear, and try to fix it.
In your own words, Mr. Brin: "I care because I passionately believe that important stories ought to make sense." As well you should-and when a story does not, you apply that passion to finding a way to make it make sense. It is precisely that process that is responsible for this very book, and whatever pearls of wisdom are contained within.
When a rational and inquisitive mind is confronted by the engaging yet irrational it often responds in this manner. This process is not usually appreciated by those undergoing it; the most common reaction is a deep irritation.
But isn't that always how pearls are formed?
DROID JUDGE: Mr. Brin, do you have any further witness testimony?
DAVID BRIN: No, Your Honor. Though I want to thank Mr. DeBrandt for a cogent and courteous argument. It's the kind that makes all of this wrangling fun.
DROID JUDGE: Mr. Stover?
MATTHEW WOODRING STOVER: No, Your Honor.
DROIDJUDGE: Then you may each give your closing statements. Please address your comments to the jury. Mr. Brin, you first.
'ELL NOW, WASN'T THAT FUN? If only most "trials" could be as extravagant, harmlessly entertaining and so worth the price of admission!
Of course, a bit of humility is called for. Especially since all of this wrangling amounts to very little more than poking at the edges of a truly substantial mythos. Indeed, as a social phenomenon, Star Wars has grown huge-the six-hundred-pound gorilla of movie scifi.' And yet, isn't that enough reason to take a closer look? Should we leave to "experts"-like movie critics and academic literary mavens-the task of examining such an important piece of popular culture? Shouldn't anything that gets big and powerful-from presidents to epics-merit skeptical examination from the people, as well?
Or is that just my way of pleading that I shouldn't be kneecapped for taking up this quixotic bit of windmill-tilting! After all, there must be an expression for fools who go out of their way to challenge kings, emperors or eccentric billionaires. In other times, such people were used for kindling! Nowadays? Well, if you never see another movie made from one of my books, draw your own conclusions.' Just kidding!
Okay, let's get serious. It's time to sum up, and then hand this matter over to the jury. An informal jury of public opinion that will gather at a Web debate site organized by Benbella Books, to argue, deliberate and finally cast their judgment on the indictments discussed here.
Would I have done anything differently, now that this brash and rambunctious book is drawing to a close?
Well ... I do wonder if we should have tried harder to recruit someone to praise old Yoda, perhaps from among his fiercest partisans, during a decade of online controversy since that first Salon article came out. I wonder about this because the Defense team, chosen by BenBella and Mr. Stover, seemed reluctant to stand up for a grumpy green goblin-guru who is the central preachifying figure in the Star Wars universe-who sermonizes for the better part of an hour (in total) about life and how it ought to be lived. Their chosen tacticcasting Yoda overboard, into the category of big-time movie villainmay not sit well with some hardcore Star Wars
fans out there ...
... and those fans are welcome to step forward during the coming jury deliberations! By all means, get your own arguments organized. Then put your hands out, like Frank Oz, and give Yoda some backbone! Make the elusive emerald elf-illusionist come alive! Choose between Brin and Stover you do not have to do! Justify how the limecolored asbestos oven mitt's secrecy, lies, bullying, bad manners and relentlessly awful decision making all add up to wisdom ... you can do! Well, try.'
If the approaching debate is anything like those earlier wild online discussions, there should be a lot of freewheeling excitement and some wondrously creative back-forth bluster. Oh boy, there's nothing more fun.
Just remember this, members of the jury. It's only about a bunch of silly sci-fi flicks. So let's keep it fun.
What would I like best? I figure at least a few of you out there will mull over the clues that have been gathered together, for the first time, in this volume. Hints that have always been right there in front of us. Not in the movies themselves, but in the holes, the glaring gaps that lie between those scenes that made it to the screen. The flagrant plot inconsistencies, many of which seem to point in the same weird direction, toward the same hidden plot twist. Is it possible to imagine just five minutes here, five minutes there, that would combine just so, in such a way as to bind together and make sense out of a mortally wounded story arc? Clues to a hidden plot behind the plot, turning chaos into sense?
Imagine Episode 111 112: The Darth Design....
Only, now I'm getting a sharp look from the Droid Judge, telling me to settle down and stop dreaming. Because it'll never happen. We are stuck with what we've got. Something far different than we seemed to be promised, in the ebullient aftermath to The Empire Strikes Back.
A tale not of confidence, but fatalism, in which a majority of brave deeds accomplish less than nothing.
A mishmash, in which light shows and earsplitting sound matter far more than plot.
In which costumes and computer graphics count far more than character or dialogue.
Where science, history and credible philosophy might have been given at least a modest place at the table, but instead wound up insulted at every turn.
Where even the rigid story arc prescribed by Joseph Campbell would have been a huge improvement, if only it had been followed at all!'
An epic where civilization is relentlessly portrayed as a hopelessly futile endeavor, subject to the whim of all-knowing elites who may use any means-from lies to mass murder-while citizens stare in dull confusion, their institutions impotent, their wishes ignored, their immense potential brushed aside. A potential that might have been shown for what it really is, something more powerful, by far, than any "Force."
To our surprise, the Defense did not put up much of a fight over any of this. Indeed, a few of their witnesses sounded even harsher toward the films than I have been! They tell us that the whole melodrama is about the betrayal of civilization, by both groups of Force-users. Light and dark. Jedi and Sith. Elites who must both be overcome, amid torrents of blood, in order for renewal to be achieved!
Wow.
Still, it makes me wonder. Did the Defense take this tack becauseat last-it has become impossible to keep making excuses for Yoda after all? Or because they sincerely believe this new line of argument, that the Star Wars series is an epic tragedy about Darth Vader coming into his ordained role as a righteous Scourge of God, cleansing the universe of both evil Jedi and evil Sith ... and the Old Republic must go, too ... like baby with the bath water?
I can't help but shiver at such dedication and ruthlessness. At best, if we accept this, then we have all been watching something very, very, very dark. There's a lot more here than just waving your flashlight and making zhvoom sounds, or saying Luuuuuuhe into a two-liter Coke bottle!
Oh, by the way, in answer to Don DeBrandt, let me assure you that I am perfectly capable of liking silly fluff! I am a big fan of both Galaxy Quest and The Fifth Element, and I never asked either film to make a scintilla of sense. If Star Wars had not been so ponderously lecturey, it might have been filed under the same category. But with more than an hour of preachy lectures and a relentless series of bummer scenes in which brave heroes die for nothing, I think we can admit that this epic wants to be held to a higher standard. And we have a right to do exactly that.
In order to keep my summation within bounds, let us put aside some of the charges for debate online. Those concerning Star Wars and women, for example, or whether the series has harmed science fiction. Witnesses who felt strongly about those issues have had their say, and I have little to add.
No, I want to stay focused on the subject that I think we all find most fascinating. The core Defense excuse for Star Wars-that it really is about common folk rising up, in the end, shrugging off mystical elites and taking charge! This Defense argument offers a couple of advantages, right from the start. For one thing, it lets them escape one of the most glaring plot holes of all, the fact that none of the Force-people actually make any difference in the final battle between good and evil.
After all, in Return of the Jedi, it is the Wookiee who captures an Imperial walker, brings it back to the power station, thus enabling the commando team to blow it up ... allowing Billy Dee Williams to dive the Millennium Falcon into the Death Star II, blowing it up (yes, that old stunt), which ultimately empowers the Rebellion's final victory. Was George Lucas aware that no "Force" at all was involved in this final triumph? The simplest hypothesis, in a series story arc already full of holes, might suggest that it's yet another oversight, because no one was at the plot-tiller.
But maybe not. One Defense witness claims that the throne room confrontation scene-between Luke, Vader and the Emperor-was meant to distract Palpatine, so he could not intervene, thus allowing common folk to succeed....
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.