Sunday, December 29, 2019

Discerning the Spirits of the Force, Episode IX: Hope Rises (Belonging, Family & Communion)

By now, a whole range of opinions and perspectives have been offered and shared about The Rise of Skywalker, the conclusion of the epic Star Wars "Skywalker Saga."  Here's my two-cents.  You can keep the change.


We recalled the fall of night (prequel trilogy), after considering some of the insights offered within the glimpses of the dark of night (Rogue One and Solo), the long dawn of a new hope (original trilogy), and now we come back to the desperate attempts of hope to rise again, amidst a mysterious new nightfall (sequel trilogy).

When Abrams first indicated his intention to make Episode IX a fitting conclusion to the entire saga, some of us were left nervously intrigued to see how he would connect it to the prequels.  Would he bring back midi-chlorians to explain Rey's origin? Would Snoke turn out to be Darth Plagueis? Would he actually have the nerve to follow through somehow on the infamous Darth Jar-Jar theory?  Interestingly enough, the basis of the Darth Plagueis theory was staring at the answer and not seeing it. The dialogue in Revenge of the Sith about Plagueis teaching his pupil the secret to cheating death was indeed foreshadowing (even if only retroactively), but in a much simpler and more obvious way, which ties the whole saga together much better.  Sure, introducing the villain of the sequel trilogy in the last episode of the prequel trilogy would have made for an interesting connection, but it would not have made the nine episodes feel like a complete whole in the end. The idea that Palpatine was dark-prophesying his own eventual return from the dead does that far more effectively. 

It was Palpatine orchestrating things all along... all over again. Admittedly, it might seem like such an easy solution to tie things together, in that it lends towards some explanations that were able to be left still quite vague.  Nonetheless, it's kind of... perfect, however "easy" it might seem.  Palpatine was always the main villain of the saga, who first entered the series (substantially anyway, with the exception of that one hologram scene) in the third episode of the original trilogy, after having been in the background, pulling the strings, while hidden from the audience - just like with this trilogy, only this time he was hidden from most of the characters as well.  His role within this final trilogy emphasizes even more how deeply connected his scheming and maneuvering for power is with his fixation on corrupting and exploiting the powerful Skywalker family.  But, why is this family so important?  Why are they such a great threat to him?  Because the most powerful weapon of all is found in the Skywalker family: Hope.
In hindsight, the sequel trilogy was about Palpatine, hidden behind the scenes, trying to destroy this hope once and for all and coming so close that he brought the whole galaxy to the brink of despair. But, this hope would rise again.  That is part of what hope does and so it is what the Skywalkers do, as well.  And the great irony is that Palpatine's own granddaughter would be the key to that rise, in more ways than one.

Running through all nine episodes was the notion of people looking to the Skywalker family for hope, and Palpatine attempting to kill that hope.  It began with young Anakin.  While many of the masters on the council were very cautious, there were also a number of Jedi who looked to Anakin for hope, believing he was the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy.  Even after his fall, the hope of his redemption was still alive, symbolized by the tears of conflict and pain on his face.  Thus, his face was covered, so that others (including himself) would believe that the menacing evil on the outside was his true identity.  The hope that Anakin seemed to hold was believed to be dead. Until a new hope rose in the form of the next generation of Skywalkers: Luke and Leia.  So great was the hope this new generation of Skywalkers would bring that one of them, Luke, would see through the mask and be adamant that hope was still alive for their father.  This new hope would reclaim their father just before his death and apparently restore the galaxy to a new era of relative peace.


Until the new scheming of Palpatine, who secretly has risen in the shadows, would begin to be put into affect, with the rise of the First Order, apparently so called in order to prepare for the Final Order (and admittedly, this is one of the parts that is harder to believe, that Palpatine remained in the shadows, while raising so vast of an army, even though he probably used clones).  But, if this new scheme was to effectively destroy hope, it had to include a personal attack on the Skywalkers.  Conveniently, the third generation is much like the previous generations: incredibly powerful - making him a quite useful pupil - but greatly conflicted and troubled.  If he could be turned, it would be the greatest weapon against the hope in the hearts of Luke and Leia.  And he too would stubbornly seek to use a mask to hide the hope found in the conflict on his face.  Ben was not the sort who would likely have fallen for Palpatine appearing as himself to lure him to the dark side, especially after the resilience that his uncle showed.  But, if he could believe that it is his own grandfather leading him down this path, he could be swayed.  And the idea that it was some other dark master (whether Palpatine or simply Snoke) deceiving him in this regard is always the only explanation that I think would have worked for me.  Why would Anakin, who was reclaimed in the end, be leading his grandson down a dark path?  It had to be a grand deception.  One remaining question I wish they would have answered is why and how the real Anakin is silenced.  It is true that we don't know much about how the "Jedi afterlife" of being "one with the Force" is supposed to work.  Nonetheless, it doesn't seem likely that if Luke, Obi-Wan, and Yoda can visit their pupils, that one as powerful as Anakin could not appear to his grandson to reveal the truth.  There may be a good explanation, I just wish Abrams had chosen to include it in the movie somewhere.  But, when the final piece of Palpatine's plan - his incredibly powerful granddaughter - entered the scene, she would actually become the final piece of the puzzle of the unraveling of his scheming.  She would assist the Skywalkers in recovering their hope, as they assist and guide her in bringing the hope within her into its full glory.

The story of Rey has always been deeply intertwined with that of the Skywalkers, just as the story of her grandfather has always been.  Some criticize the notion that she "becomes" a Skywalker, claiming that her story is about paving her own path and realizing that she doesn't need anyone to determine her identity.  I'm sorry, but that claim completely misses the point.  That kind of radical individualism fails to understand the glory of humanity, which is found in our capacity for relationship.  And while there is real danger in looking to others to tell us who we are, the reality is that identity and belonging will always be deeply intertwined.  Rey's story certainly is about realizing that her past and her family of origin do not determine her destiny.  But, it is also about her quest for belonging.  She doesn't truly belong to the Palpatine family, in the sense that her evil grandfather wants to think, but she does belong somewhere.  When listening to the words of the villains, we should consider precisely how and why they are lies.  Palpatine could not be more wrong when he says "the only family you have here is me."  Likewise, Kylo Ren was quite wrong when he told her "you have no part in this... you're no one, but not to me."  He attempted to lure her into finding her identity in him.  But, it is more than the fact that she is a Palpatine that gives her a place in all of this.  She has found the belonging that she was seeking in the Skywalker family.  Part of that belonging includes that she would play a key role in helping Ben himself realize that he still belongs in that family as well.  It's not too late. 

Come on.  I know I'm not the only one who thought of that song... :)

And this notion of belonging is an incredibly important theme to this conclusion to the trilogy, which told the story of various characters seeking belonging.  In this finale the contrast between the lie of despair and the reality of communion was very apparent.  Indeed, as we hear first from Zorii Bliss and later from Poe Dameron, the enemy wins by making us think that we are alone. We are not alone.  This was a beautiful theme to see coming across so strongly in a story that has always been about family and about the hope of redemption within that family and rising from that broken family into the rest of the galaxy.  But especially striking was the contrast between that lie of despair which tells us that we are alone and the element of communion (presumably in the Force) among the Jedi even beyond this life, which was emphasized in this movie more than any other.  When we first see Rey, she is in meditative state, calling out to the Jedi of every age: "Be with me."  In this initial attempt, she gives up in frustration, deciding "they're not with me."  But, this seems to be less a sense of genuine abandonment from the Jedi and more a sense of her frustration with her own apparent inability to commune with them.  It seems more about insecurity than about any genuine lack of communion with them.  This all foreshadows the moment she is nearly beaten, with most of the "life force" drained out of her and again calls out to them, "Be with me," only to be truly strengthened by them to rise again to her feet and face her foe.  She is not alone or abandoned, and her evil grandfather is not the only family she has there.  They are truly with her and able to assist her in her moment of need. As a Catholic priest, I was deeply enriched to see this glimpse of the reality of the communion of saints, whose days on earth have run their course, but are able to assist us and to truly be with us, by our communion in the Body of Christ, which reaches from Heaven to earth.

Also interesting is the contrast between the notion of her communion with those who have gone before and the very different sense in which her grandfather means that he is "All the Sith."  The Sith have always sought dominance, with masters and apprentices seeking to overthrow and supplant one another.  Palpatine is seeking to tempt his granddaughter to take his own life, but only so that he can take from her, by allowing his spirit to pass into her.  Palpatine claims the power and perhaps even the souls or the "life force" of the Sith who have gone before by being the dominant one who has taken them unto himself.  By contrast, Rey has chosen the selfless path of the Jedi and so has found genuine communion with the Jedi who have gone before, who have given themselves to her, by coming to her aide and entering into this communion with her.  This is where authentic communion comes from: making of one's life a gift given to others.


Furthermore, this emphasis on communion & belonging also helps to redeem the very weak and problematic immature portrayal of rebellion in The Last Jedi.  The emphasis of the strength of this new rebellion is now being placed on the fact that they find hope in one another, not simply in their rejection of the authority they are fighting.  In a final attempt to state the case, I want to again assert that rebellion can be an instrument of hope in the right consequence, but it is not the source of hope.  It is not to be celebrated or promoted unconditionally.  If it is always to be promoted, implying that the rebels will always be the good guys and the authority will always be the bad guys, then it is not a tool of hope, but of despair.  Why?  Because if this is truly the case, then there can be no hope of having an authority ruling that is not corrupt and in need of being overthrown.  The vision that this notion implies is that there is no hope of justice, peace and harmony, but rather that the perpetual struggle between corrupt authorities and righteous rebels is an inescapable destiny (more on this here).  Rather, the emphasis is now being placed on the fact there are many others who are willing to fight for goodness, justice, and right.  This is a far more hopeful message, rather than simply celebrating rebellion in its own right.

This takes us to the final matter of whether it is right for Rey to claim to be a Skywalker in the end.  I offer the opinion that it most certainly is.  I must admit that I did not immediately come to this conclusion, but left the theater thinking this was still one of the weaker aspects of the movie.  The more I thought about it and discussed it with friends, I began to quickly and quite decidedly change my mind. One can belong to a family by adoption. As I've said, Rey's story has always been about finding belonging, not simply her origin, but where she belongs. To what family does she belong? She found that in Luke, Leia, and Han and also somewhat in Ben.  Furthermore, the idea that one's blood matters, but it does not determine their destiny has always been an important theme.  Although he was much like his father, Luke was capable of not only his own redemption, but also his father's.  Rey's path wasn't to pursue the redemption of her grandfather, like Luke's (that would have been a far cry, to say the least).  But, the idea that she could help redeem the Skywalker line, while the Skywalkers help her redeem even the line of Palpatine (even if not him personally) - that's pretty intriguing.  One of the main concerns I did have with her taking the name Skywalker at the end is that it could seem disrespectful to her parents, who seem to have been honorable, admirable and heroic people, who certainly began the process of redeeming the Palpatine line.  But, in another sense, it seems to honor their sacrifice.  Did they not "become no one" in hopes that she would have a better life, a life not plagued by the legacy of her grandfather?  I think it really is quite fitting.  The blood of the Skywalker line is gone (as far as we know), but not only is their legacy alive, their family is alive. Star Wars has always been largely about family and belonging and this movie was especially so.  The lie of despair was uttered by her grandfather, who claims to be the only family she has.  But, she has found a genuine sense of belonging in the Skywalker family.  And in her, the Skywalker name, a name that has been almost synonymous with hope, rises again.   
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And with that, I sign off (more on that here).  Thank you to anyone who has ever given this blog a bit of your time and mental energy.  I hope that it has helped you in any way, not only to better appreciate a story or song that you enjoy, but to recognize more clearly the Truth, Goodness and Beauty that is attempting to speak, however imperfectly, through any genuine human expression.  May the errors that we find in pop culture be seen through, in order to recognize that our God is present everywhere, trying to get our attention.  May glory be to Him in Jesus Christ, His Son now and forever, for we find salvation from the lies that surround us in Him alone.  God bless you.

Thursday, December 19, 2019

Discerning the Spirits of the Force, Episode VIII: Recalling the Fall of Night

This entire series has dealt very little with the prequel trilogy.  It's time to offer a few thoughts. Since J.J. Abrams keeps insisting on his intention to bring a fitting conclusion, with reference to all nine episodes (and we will find out how that goes so soon that some of you may already know, by the time you read this), I suppose I should follow suit.


With Rogue One, the concept of a new kind of prequel was introduced, which leaned heavily into the notion that it's always darkest just before the dawn.  Meanwhile, Solo attempted to offer a slightly more playful and lighthearted moment a bit earlier in this "dark of night" phase.  But, before these new "Star Wars Stories," there were the original prequels designed to show us all how the night fell in the first place.  It began in a sort of moment of twilight, when a hidden threat, a phantom menace, was creeping upon a fragile republic, which was losing faith in its leadership.  It progressed into a sort of long dusk, only to end in a moment of darkness so deep that it seemed that the very light of hope had been sent scrambling forever into hiding.  Yet, that hiding was just a matter of waiting for the dawn.

Thus far, I've kept the prequels as a sort of can of worms I've chosen not to open. There are a number of reasons for that, beyond simply that it's not exactly my favorite aspect of the universe.  Even more basically, I thought, if I were to comment on them, where would I start? 

I could add my voice to the chorus of commentators who have already pointed out the illogical nonsense to which Jedi apparently ascribe, as revealed by the silly Obi-Wan quote: "Only a Sith deals in absolutes" (one of a great many absolute statements that the Jedi follow).


On one hand, I could say many positive things about how accurately the subtlety and insidiousness of evil is depicted in the brilliant scheming of Palpatine.

Or perhaps I could reflect on the good and the bad of the understanding of the Jedi commitment to celibacy, comparing and contrasting it with the understanding of celibacy in the Catholic priesthood and religious life.  These views on celibacy, namely that of the Jedi and that of the Catholic Church, are quite distinct from one another and might bear an interesting blend of similarities and also very significant differences. Unfortunately, the only perspective the movies offer us of what the Jedi intend in this commitment is from one who doesn't seem to understand it very well, and whose rejection of it leads to his downfall.  

On a related topic, I could comment about how obvious it was - and certainly should have been to a strong and intelligent woman like Padme - that this same confused young Jedi's romance was never healthy or stable. 


Perhaps I could focus a post on the notion of the prophecy of the chosen one, and how it seemed to be a compensation for the fact that Anakin turned out not to be the kind of character that most viewers would sympathize with.  Much effort was seemingly put into showing the brokenness of Anakin's nature (even at the earliest stages) which showed him as being quite susceptible to the influence of evil from the beginning.  This was done so effectively that he didn't really seem to possess much of the natural goodness and virtue that might have been expected from some of the high praise spoken of him in the original trilogy.  Thus, it seemed as if some other basis had to be established for the high expectations that many of the Jedi had for him.  Whether it was the original intention or not, building the story around a prophecy was one potential way of compensating for that narrative predicament, even if it did mean that something as silly as the midichlorians would be needed to establish a key reason why a Jedi Master would associate this young slave boy with this prophecy.

However, this final thought seems to point us to what might be the best aspect to focus on.  Isn't it interesting how Lucas chose to show us so many of Anakin's faults, and particularly in manner that resembles some of the character traits that would be passed on to his son?!  When we think of the impulsive and emotional young man that made both Obi-Wan and Yoda nervous when he left his training on Dagobah to go rushing into a trap at Bespin, it gives new meaning to the fact that this is "the son of Anakin Skywalker."  


This can help us appreciate even more strongly the fact that Luke was not mastered by these qualities.  He was not doomed to be a villain, but was even capable of helping his father realize that it wasn't too late for him either and that he need not be identified by his weaknesses.  The most striking scene in the entire trilogy might be the tears we see on Darth Vader's face, after he carried out the command to slaughter his master's own allies, now revealed to be mere pawns, whose lives had absolutely no value to him.  This moment enables us to see with our own eyes the conflict that Luke could sense within him.  We saw that beneath that menacing mask was the pain of vulnerability and desperation, to which the pride of this young man was desperately clinging, grasping at greater power, as the only hope of eventually overthrowing his wicked master.

The fact that Lucas did a good job of helping us to understand the man beneath the mask, and particularly by honing in on those character traits that came natural to his son, actually helps to set the stage for the sequel trilogy.

First, consider Ben Solo (Kylo Ren).  Many fans complain that he is not a villain nearly as menacing as Darth Vader.  Well, my first reply to that is that that is part of the point!  Personally, I would have found it far more tiresome if they had made it their goal to simply make everything an amplified version of what they had already done, such as trying to have a villain even more menacing than Darth Vader.  But, my second reply is that he may not resemble Vader as much as he would like to think, but he does resemble Anakin.  By accentuating the character traits that might run in the family and showing how this might include both being very powerful and also being plagued by some character defects that led Anakin to ruin, and very nearly caused his son to fall right into the snares that he and his evil master would set for him, the creators of the sequel trilogies were left with a very interesting template for what Anakin's grandson might be like.  Granted, Ben has a lot of unique hang-ups of his own, just as no one is an exact clone of any of their ancestors.  But, it still is not hard to believe that this emotional and impulsive young man with far more power than he knows what to do with is a Skywalker.


Next, consider the portrayal of Luke in the sequel trilogy.  I know this is another point in which many of my fellow fans will disagree with me, but I've already stated my case (here and here).  Some criticize the sequel trilogy for its creators' choice to use so many elements of the narrative structure of the originals as a starting point into which to introduce variations. Personally, I would have been disappointed had they not done this. The specific narrative structure of a trilogy has always been an important part of the story. Had they not engaged that narrative structure in the final trilogy, it would have felt even more disjointed and certainly not like a complete whole, once all nine episodes were finally complete.  The interesting aspect of how they have done this is that they took seriously the question of what would happen when the young upcoming heroes of the original trilogy step into very different roles within the narrative. Han Solo is a very different character than Obi-Wan Kenobi!  So, it would be very interesting to see how differently things would unfold when he steps into the same role within the narrative that Obi-Wan previously occupied.  Again, I know many fans disagree, but I think Abrams executed this marvelously. Similarly, the role occupied by Yoda in the narrative of the original trilogy - that of the wise old master, who is now a little bit out of his mind as he lives isolated in a remote and secluded exile, prompted by his failure, until his solitude is disrupted by a enthusiastic young would-be Jedi seeking training and guidance - would look quite different when it is occupied by "the son of Anakin Skywalker."  All the more so, when one considers how deeply personal the failure that sent him into exile is and how it is intertwined with the unique character arc of his disturbed nephew, the resulting picture when the young heroine comes seeking his supposed wisdom would be quite a different picture indeed.  I must say that this was not the most disappointing part of that movie, but was fairly well done overall.  

The point is that the role of these two characters - the second and third generations of the Skywalker family - in the sequel trilogy can be better appreciated because of this broader view of the whole family we are given, thanks to the closer look at Anakin's character in the prequels.  In general, the portrayal seemed to lean very heavily into his weaknesses, to the point that many viewers were left thinking "oh yeah, this kid is definitely going to end up as a sith!"  Nonetheless, there is a definite tension between his potential for good and his susceptibility to evil.  This tension is joined to the fact of how much he was manipulated by Palpatine's scheming, so that we are left still wanting to hold out some hope for his redemption.  The night falls, only to leave us waiting for the dawn, however long of a wait it may be.

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To be concluded...

Friday, December 13, 2019

Discerning the Spirits of the Force, Episode VII: Another Hope

       So... when I said that an Episode VII would coincide with the release of Rise of Skywalker (if you don't know what I'm talking about, read this), you didn't think I would start a "third trilogy" and not finish it, did you?  I mean, once I start a series of commentary posts on Star Wars and label each post an "episode," it hardly seems fitting to end on seven, rather than finishing out the final "trilogy."  Perhaps it will be worthwhile to give each of the three actual trilogies of movies it's own final consideration, in order of their release.


       This upcoming long-awaited conclusion merits revisiting the earlier movies of the saga (most of them, at least).  With this latest viewing, something struck me about the movie that started it all: Star Wars, Episode IV: A New Hope.  Of all things, I was struck by the irony of the title - and let's just set aside for now all the discussions about when Lucas decided that "A New Hope" should be the title and whether this is in fact the "real" title of the movie and just acknowledge that it has been the title for decades, regardless of whether it was on the date of the movie's release.

       If you've read my thoughts in this series before (particularly, in Episode III, in which I discussed how Rogue One was a fitting prequel to it), you know that I have often been intrigued by the importance of HOPE as a key theme to this dawning moment in the saga, as well as the corresponding fittingness of this title that Lucas eventually decided to attach to the movie that started it all.  But, the aspect of this that struck me as even more significant (and I'm sure others caught this long ago) is the ironic connection of the title to one of the most iconic lines of the whole movie: "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  You're my only hope."  Leia firmly believed that: her only hope was Obi-Wan.  Yet, Obi-Wan was waiting for a new hope, a very specific new hope.  The movie's whole sense of this moment of fulfillment that has finally arrived, after enduring decades of the dark days of the Empire, points to the truth: there is a new hope that is dawning.  Yet, the irony is that as the trilogy progresses, it becomes clear that this hope refers not simply to Luke alone, but as Yoda says "There is another," and as Obi-Wan later clarifies, "The other that he referred to is your twin sister."   


The great irony in Leia's famous words identifying Obi-Wan as the only hope is not only that the point of this movie is to introduce a new hope, but even that she herself is a part of that new hope.  Yet, she still looks desperately for hope elsewhere.  Even after Obi-Wan is gone, she then promptly begins to speak of finding a flaw in the Death Star plans as their "only hope" (ahem, Rogue One, anyone?). In reality, a new hope arrived at Yavin in the Millennium Falcon.  But, it wasn't the Death Star plans. It was her and her brother.

How often do we begin to lose hope when that in which we had placed our hope doesn't turn out as we had planned?  Can we accept that hope is simply misplaced, not lost?  Do we have our eyes open enough to recognize where hope is still alive around us?  Do we have enough faith to recognize when we ourselves might be a vessel of the hope that is still alive?  Perhaps a helpful paradigm for pondering these questions, when the plans in which we had placed our hope fall apart, might be the Serenity Prayer: 

Lord, 
grant me 
the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, 
the courage to change the things I can, 
and the wisdom to know the difference.  
Amen.


 
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