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| This is what I wanted. It's what we all wanted. Payback. |
That was the artificial atmosphere that I took with me to
see Return of the Jedi. I had to go
see it. I wasn’t crazy. But at the time, I’d been into Star Wars for half of my life. I felt like I’d outgrown the movies.
I wasn’t sure. I mean, most of the time, I wasn’t watching Saturday Morning
cartoons, either. Things were different, now.
But of course, I had to see this movie, if only to find out
what happened to Han Solo. I was excited to return to Tatooine, and I was over
the moon at the prospect of a showdown with Boba Fett. It was, after all,
inevitable. Besides, Luke now had a robot hand, and there’s no telling what
cool stuff it could do, right?
Even at the age of 13, I could tell the fix was in. I did
not watch Return of the Jedi with an
uncritical eye, even back then. Worse, I watched it with an intact sense of
propriety and ownership—me, at the age of 13. But I was not alone. See, I was a
kid when Star Wars started. (To my
way of thinking), I wasn’t a kid for Jedi. I wanted to see something more in
keeping with my evolved situation. After all, it was Star Wars (really Empire
Strikes Back) that told me to man up by cutting Luke’s hand off and giving
him some crushing news. But he soldiered on. We all do. You get your bionic
hand and you deal with the new information.
So, I wanted to see where this all was going. My opinion of Jedi is virtually unchanged in 32 years:
it’s a failed masterpiece. I walked out of the theater, really pissed off, in
1983. The only thing that has abated in the intervening years is my righteous
indignation. In its place is a knowing cynicism about the power of money and
how much of it is needed to cause an artist to amend their thinking. Another first
lesson for me on the relationship between art and commerce.
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| This is what we ended up with. It's got moments, but on the whole... |
Jedi starts
out good enough. The rescue of Han on Tatooine had to be the first thing
covered, or we would have collectively lost our damn minds. And what an opening
it is—right into the heart of Jabba’s palace, for a reworking of the Cantina
scene from the first movie—a reminder that we are in another world—and a
promise of future derring do in the scene with Leia, Chewie, and Lando. When
Luke shows up, we’re as skeptical as Han is: “A Jedi Knight? I’m out of it for
a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur.”
One of the better lines in the movie is the reunion of Han
and Luke in Jabba’s Palace after Luke dispatches the Rancor. “Together again!”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“How’re we doing?”
“Same as always.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad, huh?”
This kind of dialogue has always been my favorite, because
it speaks to character and also establishes history. This isn’t the first time
these guys have been neck-deep in trouble. The stories and situations that
conjures up with just a few lines of dialogue make the scene infinitely more
rich.
Out on the barge, when Artoo proves once again why you never
leave home without him, and Luke gets his lightsaber and that wonderful music
cues you in, things get awesome. I have no idea what Lucas was thinking when he
put Leia in her “slave” costume. Clearly, Jabba was humiliating her. I never
took away any other implication than that, initially, but it’s worth noting
that the second she is able to do so, Leia strangles Jabba with her own
chain—that’s some brutal, up-close and personal shit, right there. Since the
story literally makes zero mention of it afterward, maybe this is all just part
of the “get Han back plan.” It doesn’t have to be an abusive or deviant thing,
no matter what the subtext implies.
However, at the age of 13 I was far less concerned with the
liminal space between Princess Leia and Slave Leia and one hundred and twelve
percent focused on the instant Boba Fett steps off of the barge, fires his jet
pack, and moves to engage Luke Skywalker, heir to the Jedi mantle.
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| This two page spread exists because every kid I knew who was into Star Wars meticulously collected every scrap of information they fed us about Boba Fett. |
See, I was an expert on Boba Fett. We ALL were. I had the
sketchbook designs, showing all of the various weapons and lasers and missiles
that were literally buried in his armor. Here’s a guy who looks Darth Vader in
the eyepiece and speaks to him as if they are equals. He fears no one. He is
(and we know this because we were told this in ad copy, on the back of gum
cards, in print, and anywhere Kenner and Lucasfilm could tattoo the message) “The
most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.” Superfans, who had absorbed and
memorized the lore of the back story, knew that the Mandalorian armor (what
Boba Fett wore) was a special kind of shock-commando suit designed for Jedi
hunting. In short: Boba has done this before. This was not his first Jedi
round-up. I flashed on ALL OF THAT in the two seconds it took Boba
Fett to cross the distance between the barge and the skiff and land opposite
Luke, ready to do battle. This was going to be epic.
Epic, I tell you!
Aaaaaaany second now.
Wait, was Boba Fett going to actually shoot a Jedi? The guys
who can knock blaster fire out of the sky with their lightsabers? Oh, well,
maybe he was just testing Luke. Yeah, that’s it. Only it cost him his rifle, so
that was kinda dumb. Now he’s using a tow cable to wrap around Luke. Okay, that
was only going to last a few seconds. What he should do now is fire those wrist
rockets! Or the flame thrower! Come on, Boba! Oh, damn, he got knocked down. By
the deck gun’s stray laser blasts.
Um.
Okay, Luke is over there, now, and Boba Fett is about to
shoot him! Wrist rockets? Flame thrower? Oh, damn, Luke, here it comes...wait,
what? Did we just actually see a blind man accidentally hit Boba Fett’s jetpack and cause it
to malfunction? Did Boba Fett just actually fall into the Sarlaac Pit? Did the
Sarlaac Pit actually just burp?
You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.
According to one interview, Lucas did this because he was
frustrated by his ongoing divorce at the time and didn’t want to deal with working out of how this battle between Jedi and Bounty Hunter would go down. If
that’s the case, it becomes rather damning evidence for—but I’m getting ahead
of myself.
That scene, about thirty seconds of film, made every Star
Wars fan in the audience cringe. We were gypped! Ripped off! The adults tricked
us! You promised us (implicitly, if not explicitly) a pay off, and, well, yeah,
okay, now the sand barge is blowing up, and Leia just strangled Jabba the Hutt,
and everyone is together again, but...couldn’t this have been done with a
little more panache?
Luke goes back to Dagobah. He has some questions. As do we all.
See, as shocking and as soul-splitting as the revelation that Vader was Luke’s
father was, it fundamentally contradicts something that Ben told Luke in the
first movie. We were all very concerned about this. After all, there were now
three movies to keep straight in our heads. What would Yoda say?
We don’t know. He dies pretty quickly. But hey, cool, here’s
Ghost-Ben, and while that seems problematic, it’s at least answering the
question. Luke’s reply to Ben’s explanation carried the same tone as ours did:
“From a certain point of view?” Really? That’s your take? Well, okay, we’re
going to let that go, as well, because even though none of us had yet read Robert
McKee’s seminal screenwriting bible, Story:
Style, Structure, Substance, and the Principles of Screenwriting, we
all instinctively knew that it made for a much better story to have Vader be
Luke’s father.
And now we find out that Leia is Luke’s sister? Are we just
supposed to forget that smooch in Echo Base on Hoth? Dammit, Lucas! Well, that
does explain the telepathy scene in Empire. But please, enough with the
surprise family nonsense!
Whew. Okay, moving on.
Okay, they are rebuilding the Death Star, and this time,
they are putting Duct Tape over that pesky exhaust port. Now the Death Star will
finally be the ultimate power in the universe. So, the rebels have to take it
out before it’s finished. This is a good plan. What could possibly go wrong?
Family drama, is what. Admiral Akbar splits everyone up.
Lando gets the Falcon for the big
space fight. Han tells us he’s got a feeling we’re never going to see it again.
I almost started crying right then. Either Han Solo is going to die, or the Millennium Falcon is going to blow up.
Or both. Super Duper Darth Vader was right all along! Nooooooo!
All of this happens in a minute of screen time. Always in
motion, is the Star Wars franchise.
Now the group is in the jungle, and they run across some
stormtroopers in cool armor, on these amazing hover bikes. What follows is one
of the best scenes in the movie, as Luke and Leia engage in a high-speed chase
through the woods with crashes, some lightsaber fu, and great high speed
photography. They get separated, of course, and then the story splits off into
thirds. Luke goes to confront Vader (and the emperor). Okay, this is a good
storyline, and we are interested in this. It's somber and melodramatic and is emotionally and physically what we were expecting, a promise made by Empire that was fulfilled by Jedi.
The second story is just as compelling. The fleet is amassing for the big
fight, and our POV characters, Admiral Ackbar (one of fandom’s favorite Star
Wars aliens) and Lando are raring to go. Only, there's problems! The Shield isn't down! The Empire knew they were coming! Who didn’t get goosebumps when Lando
yelled, “That shield is still active! Pull up! All craft pull up!” and
suddenly we see the Star Destroyers and Ackbar exclaimed, “It’s a Trap!” So,
Space battle. Good. You know we’re on board for this.
The third story is all about how the Ewoks get involved in
the fight. From the first second the Ewoks are on screen, I knew that Lucas no
longer cared about Star Wars. Rather, he cared about getting paid.
See, one of the unintended consequences of the Star Wars
movies was the massive amount of money made from the merchandise. Even back
then, the numbers were being published and no one could believe how many
millions of dollars were being generated by the toys. When Empire came out, far
and away the most popular toy from that movie was anything having to do with
Yoda. He was small, he was cute (in an ugly sort of way), he had the funny
voice and the strange syntax problem, and oh! Did you know that Frank Oz was
the puppeteer for Yoda? He also does Miss Piggy! If this suddenly sounds like
your mother, that’s on purpose. Moms everywhere finally had a hook, an in, from
which they could attempt to relate to their latchkey children. Something,
anything, to make all of this space-gobbledygook make sense.
In short, Yoda toys; puppets, plush doll, etc, went like
hotcakes. They were must-have items at Christmas. This would not have gone
unnoticed by George Lucas.
Now there’s a third movie coming. Granted, at some point,
there was supposed to be a planet of Wookies helping the rebels, and well,
everyone likes Chewbacca, but that Yoda outsold the Chewie teddy bear six to
one. If only the wookies were somehow smaller...cuter...hey, wait a minute...!
In short, the fix was in. Here’s how I know: Stormtrooper
armor, we were told, was riot gear, designed to protect the clones from unarmed
or lightly armored peasants. It offered excellent protection against things
like sticks and stones, but was no match for well-aimed blaster fire. Right.
Okay. Gotcha.
So, two movies later, here we are on the forest planet, and
the stormtroopers are being mowed down, cut like sheaves of wheat before the
scythe, as the Ewoks bring them down with...sticks and stones.
The last thirty minutes of Return of the Jedi is both the
zenith and the nadir of the series. Every time we cut away from Luke struggling
with his father in an awesome lightsaber duel, or the massive, impressive,
so-very-cool space fight going on around the Death Star, and we head back down
Endor to watch the stormtroopers getting slaughtered by teddy bears holding
dirt clods, a part of my soul died.
This is not adult Mark, talking to you. Even at the age of
thirteen (and perhaps especially at the age of thirteen), I knew this was
bullshit. Star Wars opened my eyes to
the infinite size of the world. Empire
taught me how to shave. And Jedi
reminded me that I’m still too young to drive the family car and father knows best.
In the end, Luke and Anakin get their resolution. Han
doesn’t die. The Falcon survives the explosion. Super Duper Darth Vader was a bit
fat liar all along. And the Ewoks are singing this song that sounds like
something from Sesame Street.
That was the final shot of the movie.
I wanted to like it. I felt as if I was supposed to like it.
But at the time, I remember being supremely disappointed. Another life lesson for
everyone who watched it, now it’s become part of the fabric of the movie-going
universe, that the third movie in a trilogy will inevitably suck. That
tradition started in 1983 with Return of
the Jedi. A dubious honor, to be sure, but you have to include it as just
one more thing the franchise gave the world.
After that, it was easy to wean yourself from buying Star
Wars stuff. The Ewoks had arrived, and your younger brother and sister
(including mine, now) loved that crap, but I sure didn’t. Worse, they didn't even try to hide the fact that it was aimed at little kids. It was inevitable
that there would be Saturday morning cartoons featuring both the Droids and the
Ewoks. Ugh. I am shaking my head as I write this. Did they think we were all
stuck at age seven?
