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Thursday, January 19, 2017

Discerning the Spirits of the Force, Episode III: Rogue One and Building on Hope

       A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... there was a story you had read about in the scrolling introduction to a movie that was very likely a staple of your childhood.  But, you never imagined that you would care about what the story itself was in detail.  Until you watched it.  That story is called Rogue One: A Star War Story.


       Many people have had many different opinions about whether or not Disney's innovation of making side-story Star Wars movies, which are not official episodes in the saga, could actually work.  Some loved the idea as soon as they heard it.  Others would never accept it.  Still others, like me, had a simple response of "Let's wait and see."  So, I waited until the first trailer for Rogue One debuted.  And that first trailer left me with two simple thoughts: 1) It looks like it could be pretty good and 2) It also looks kind of like "Katniss in Space."

       There is really little question of whether or not the story plays into the recent trend of a specific type of 'tough as nails, but deeply broken' young heroine, which is epitomized by Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games.  In fact, if one did not already know that it was set "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away," one might be inclined to describe the story as a dystopian future epic.  I, for one, did not mind this approach, not only because I thought it also worked quite well as a quasi-prequel to the original Star Wars Trilogy, but also because I find this popular story model to be potentially quite meaningful.  As I elaborated upon in great detail in my talk Love and Vulnerability in a Broken World: Heroines, Divas, and Lady Hope, this model certainly contains a good deal of both positive and negative elements and can leave us with much provocation for thought.  In fact, I think Rogue One does an especially good job of portraying some of themes I discussed in that previous talk, which I will come back to later.  Perhaps the choice to craft the story and the lead character in this way felt very natural for those involved, because so much of what the story set out to do was to offer a much darker glimpse into the less charming elements of what the Rebellion might have, at times, stooped to in their desperation.

       This dark tone of portraying just how bleak life under the regime of the Empire would have been is really key.  In a thematic sense, I think it is an important part of what made it such an effective prelude to the episode of the saga entitled "A New Hope."  It became very clear rather early in the film that they were intending to build up, not only toward the events at the beginning of the story, but toward the theme of the dawning of this new hope that had been long awaited by the Rebellion.  One way to make this stark turn toward a new hope effective is by employing a method, which I think so many dystopian future novels have employed in earnest: namely, turning hope into a question.  The question is simple.  Is hope possible?  The more bleak the situation in the story portrays, the more the audience is able to truly suffer this question along with the characters.  It is a narrative form of the classic artistic technique known as chiaroscuro, which very deliberately attends to the interplay of light, darkness, and shadows.  Essentially, the deeper the darkness, the more brilliant the light.

       As a Catholic priest, I also appreciated that the movie was released during the Advent season (the four weeks leading up to Christmas, which is not actually the Christmas season, contrary to the common misunderstanding of our culture - the Christmas season goes from December 25th through the middle of January).  Advent invites us into the long waiting of God's people for the Savior who was finally born on Christmas day, in order to invite us into a more meaningful waiting for His Second Coming.  For this reason, I have also considered that it is quite an appropriate time to read and reflect upon the Old Testament.  This will include reading some of the harder to read stories of Salvation History.  When we see how desperate was the situation of God's people as they awaited their Savior, we can better appreciate the beauty of the dawning of the new hope, Jesus Christ, when we celebrate His birth on Christmas day.  

       So, while I can understand how some may have been turned off by the much darker tone than any prior Star Wars movie, I felt it gave them an opportunity to craft a prelude to A New Hope, which was truly a redemption story very much within the thematic realm of Star Wars.  Furthermore, I think they seized upon this opportunity brilliantly, such that it was truly "a Star Wars story" in a thematic sense, not simply in terms of the setting and subject matter.

       First of all, what saved it from being simply a dark, depressing story, instead of a genuine redemption story?  No, not simply the "happy ending."  The happiness of the ending I would say was a rather double edged sword.  {SPOILER ALERT!!!!!}  After all, none of these new characters we may have been gradually endearing ourselves to survived.  Yet, their sacrifice is what made this new hope possible (and let's be clear the "new hope" in the title has generally referred to Luke, not the Death Star plans, but I think we can allow for a sense of partial fulfillment, because the Death Star plans made it possible for Luke to destroy it).  Quite simply, what I would say made this a story of redemption, rather than one of darkness and despair, can be summarized in one word: HOPE.

       One of the simple taglines of the movie was very telling: "Rebellions are built upon hope."  In a sense, this tagline is what saved it from my greatest fears about what the film could have been.  One of the early trailers featured Jyn Erso giving an account for her deviant behavior with a rather cheesy one-liner that earned a bit of snickering: "I rebel."  Besides being worried that the film would be filled with tacky lines like this, which would have made it seem utterly unashamed of being simply a token cookie-cutter caricature of a rebel without a cause, this had me a bit worried that this young rebel around whom the story revolved would have been just that - without a cause.  In fact, it is most unfortunate that some of the marketing schemes at work still give this impression, as I recently saw a Jyn Erso water-bottle, probably aimed at children, with one word in bold letters: REBEL.  Let's be clear.  Rebellion is sometimes a necessary course of action.  And when it is, the courage that rebellion requires is certainly a laudable thing.  But, rebellion in itself is not something to be praised or promoted.  It is not a virtue, and is very often a vice.  It may involve virtues, especially fortitude.  But, rebellion in itself demands a cause.  It calls for the guidance of reason.  It is a dangerous and harmful thing to be promoting to our youth and our culture that rebellion in itself is to be praised.  Thankfully, if we watch the movie with its full context, we are left with a slightly more nuanced message.  Not only is the complexity of the cause and the motivation of the characters a constant theme, of which we see many different shades, it is always moved forward by a unifying theme: rebellions are built on hope.  Anyone finding themselves in a position in which they believe that rebelling against some authority seems necessary or appropriate should first examine the question of hope.  In what am I placing my hope?  This will necessitate a constant stream of follow-up questions: Is this hope in accord with reason and the true good, or is my hope misplaced?  Is it precisely that against which I am rebelling that is directly impeding this hope or is it something else?  Is the nature of my rebellion actually addressing the problem?  Or am I using the evil of a corrupt authority as an excuse to justify my own wrong decisions?  Am I falling for an oversimplified misrepresentation of the authority, designed to manipulate people's fears and inspire a rebellion?  These are just a few of the necessary questions.

       One of the most striking and beautiful elements of how the dynamic between hope and the cause (the reason or purpose, which gives guidance and direction to the act of rebellion) is the way it grows throughout the film, especially in Jyn herself.  When we first meet her, she is indeed a rebel without a cause, because she is also without hope.  We see how greatly her lack of hope has caused her to despair of meaning.  She has been deeply wounded and this despair has become her comfortable hiding place. It is from this place of despair that she is constantly lashing out, refusing to devote herself to any cause.  When asked if she can stand the thought of the Imperial flags flying over them her answer is very telling - "It's easy if you don't look up."  Despair and complacency go hand in hand.  Yet, even more telling is her response when she asks if she knows where her father is, and she answers that she prefers to think he's dead.  It's just easier, easier than the pain.  Yet, though her pain has driven her to despair and to neglect any cause or reason that would give guidance to her actions, the reawakening of her hope is one of the most beautiful moments of the movie.  This takes place when she receives the message of her father.  You can see the hope awakening within her, not only because she learns he is alive, or even because she learns of his plan, but because she receives the love of her father.  This is what reawakens hope (more on this here).  Once she has her hope restored by her father, she is capable of offering hope to Cassian and the rest of the small band of rebels the story centers around.  In return, they offer her a cause, complete with all of its messiness and complexities.  And together they find a way to pass this hope onto the Rebellion.  The role of "trusting the force" is also important to their joint restoration of hope.  For more on that, see Episode I of Discerning the Spirits of the Force.


       Lastly, how is it that Rogue One was "a Star Wars story" in a thematic sense?  In what precisely did Jyn place her hope?  She would not give up hope in her father.  Her father was indeed a complicated character.  In the eyes of some, he may have been considered a villain.  Yet, she would not give up hope in the good that was still alive in him, which had made possible a hope that many in the rebellion would not dare to believe.  By working to carry out her father's plan, in a certain sense, this entire story became about her working to accomplish her father's redemption, to atone for his crimes, committed in desperation.  Does this not resemble the beauty of the now classic redemptive story within Return of the Jedi, toward which A New Hope was building?  Do we not see this reflected in The Force Awakens, by the hope alive in Leia, and reawakened in Han, to the point that he is willing to die for it?  As I claimed in the first episode of this series, one of the most beautiful truths reflected in Star Wars is the power of a familial bond, which refuses to give up hope in those we love, no matter how far they have fallen.

       This is central to our faith as Christians.  We have rebelled against our Father, because we failed to trust Him and were deceived into believing that His rules are only restrictions, rather than being guidelines leading to our fulfillment, even when we don't understand them.  Yet, He refuses to give up on us.  In fact, He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to fight for us, to redeem us.  Others may think we are crazy, but we continue to fight for a hope that we cannot deny, because we have come to believe in the power of redemption.  Thus, a new hope dawns in a deeply broken world.  

Go back to Episode II          

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