Showing posts with label Narrative Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Narrative Art. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

On the Necessary Similitude Between the Mythic and the Mundane

There has been much hype in the Star Wars community surrounding the infinite possibilities of havoc and hope which a Disney self-emancipated from any semblance of continuity with the entire artistic corpus of “The Maker” George Lucas—including, most especially, Lucas’ crowning masterpiece, The Prequel Trilogy—could reap upon the Star Wars franchise. But if one conjectured possibility—time travel or dimensional rifts—were admitted into Star Wars, it would fundamentally alter the similitude of “The Galaxy Far, Far, Away” (GFFA) to our own, thereby destroying the power of epic myth, in which there must be commonality and yet distance. The iconic opening line of the saga establishes the necessity of linear progression as the means of establishing a human manner of interacting with the GFFA: A long time ago in a galaxy far [, far] away… is only intelligible within the framework of our everyday experience vis-à-vis reality, that is, of a linear past and a three-dimensional expansion of space.
 
We exist in a linear progression of time; time travel would turn the epic into mere science fiction. By this I do not mean to imply that science fiction franchises such as Dr. Who, et al. are not amazing things in themselves, but nobody would contend that they contain the same power of epic myth that Star Wars always had since its very debut. These create interesting moral situations and things, but the element of time travel detaches them from our common experience of linear temporality, in which concrete actions and choices cause future results and which cannot be undone. Anakin's radical choice in Star Wars III is an example. He goes down the path of the Dark Side, and forever it "dominates his destiny". He cannot undo what he has done; he even remarks in horror at his fundamental choice "What have I done?!" while still in Palpatine's office; it is only in the linear progression of his actions and his son's actions that he is able to make a contrary choice; he cannot undo what was done, but—like us—he can make a choice for the good no matter how much evil has been done.[1]
 
There is a fundamental distinction, however, between going impossibly large distances in a short amount of time, and going back/forwards in time itself: the former is a mere variation of degree in a thing that bears familiarity; the latter is a fundamentally distinct kind of interaction with time. While I concede that the GFFA is not of necessity subject to our physical laws and often ignores them in the Saga itself—to the horror of a post-logical modern scientific establishment baptized in the name of the logically dubious methods of induction, inference, and generalization—I maintain that the physical laws of the GFFA should, in order to preserve the necessary similitude between our experience and the experience of the epic myth, be distinguished only in degree, and not in kind, regarding the effects—and not necessarily the causes—of those laws.[2]


[1] The preceding originally a Facebook comment, 5:55-6pm, 3 December 2015.
[2] The preceding originally a Facebook comment, 4:46pm, 4 December 2015.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Star Wars and the Unfolding of Narrative Art

A certain Star Wars fan made the following social media remark regarding another Star Wars essay:
"his claim that Episodes I-III are supposed to be seen after Episodes IV-VI…is of course a total nonsense (those films wouldn´t be called Episodes I, II, III, IV, V and VI if that was true)"
I have written the following short essay in order to show that such claim, while it may be false, is by no means "of course a total nonsense".
 
I tried an experiment once: I had a friend who hadn't ever seen Star Wars and didn't even know the story (she was truly shocked when she learned that Darth Vader was Luke's father!). I told her, "I've never done this, but I want to try it: I want to introduce you to these films in their numerical order, but I'll skip the end of Star Wars III for a reason that will become apparent later, and we'll return to that after Star Wars VI.” She agreed.
 
Well, I had never closely watched these films ‘for the first time’ since I had actually watched them for the first time, and my dad showed me the Original Trilogy (IV, V, & VI) first, then the Prequel Trilogy (I, II, & III) second. I began to notice many subtle things that are 'assumed' in the Prequel Trilogy that are already covered in the Original Trilogy.
 
For example: In Star Wars II, the understanding of Obi-Wan's Jedi mind trick is assumed—and it isn't really explained in Star Wars I, but in Star Wars IV. The best two examples of all, examples which I think are beyond dispute, are the culturally ubiquitous "I am your father" of Star Wars V and the climactic Luke/Leia sibling reveal of Star Wars VI. In Star Wars III, these two dramatic twists are wrapped into one scene, the Padmé birth scene, but clearly these were never intended to be revealed in such an anticlimactic manner; these familiar facts are assumed knowledge during Star Wars III, allowing the birth scene to serve other purposes in the unfolding of the story.
 
One of the more subtle examples, but nevertheless very relevant, would be the music of Star Wars—all the themes composed by John Williams, and to a lesser extent, by Kevin Kiner. The “Force theme” appears in Star Wars IV and is subsequently developed in interesting ways throughout all six episodes (and The Clone Wars TV series). Countless themes make important variations throughout the entire saga, enriching the scenes with subtle meanings that are only fully appreciated when all previous appearances of such themes and variations have been encountered. John Williams, like George Lucas, cannot help but develop his compositions only in the manner in which he actually—outside of the “galaxy far, far away”—composed his works. The magnificent subtlety of the music of Star Wars, one of the strongest elements of the saga by Lucas’ own design, can only be fully interpreted and appreciated in the order in which the themes were actually developed, i.e. the order in which the movies were actually released.
 
For the record, I like the Prequel Trilogy far more than the Original Trilogy, so my opinions should not be taken as adding a movement to the dissonant symphony of Prequel hate. My opinion regarding the proper order in which to watch the Star Wars movies does not spring from a belief that the Original Trilogy should be viewed first because it is better. It is not. I even used to agree with the position that the movies are best watched in their numerical ordering, which I now do not. I was never rigid on this matter, and I hope that other fans will give honest consideration to my argument before rejection or acceptance.
 
But I do think that it is best to watch the six episodes (and probably future spinoff ones—including The Force Awakens) in the order in which they came out from 1977-2005, not in their numerical ordering. Although the internal chronology is distorted by this, the fact remains that this is the order in which such films made their appearances in our real world, and a storyteller cannot help but reveal the unfolding story only in the order in which he actually makes it known publicly. I think this interpretive theory necessarily applies to all movie and book series, but it certainly applies to the six original Star Wars movies (and the subsequent Clone Wars series), the coherent corpus of Lucas' work, The Epic of Anakin as I like to call it.
 
Originally published as a social media comment on 9/21/2015. Edited for clarity on 11/7/2015.