Star Wars Makes Me Sleepy

The inevitable return of Yoda in Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith. Courtesy LucasFilm Ltd.

This is not a review. As so many of you are sure to e-mail, I am unqualified to write a review of Star Wars: Episode III — Revenge of the Sith. I cannot tell the difference between a Gungan and a Greedo, and I cannot say the name Count Dooku without laughing. Also, when I saw the movie, I periodically blacked out from boredom. For nearly 30 years, when face to face with the Star Wars franchise, I have demonstrated an unearthly capacity to leave my body and imagine a galaxy far, far away where I am entertained. Such is my own personal Star Wars tradition: some dress up; some host parties; I doze.

But now the critics are weighing in, declaring this final chapter in George Lucas’s Star Wars sextet best... episode... ever. And just as when I was a child, I am outside my peer group, alone with my irritation. Of course, smarter people than me have defended Star Wars’ existence: It’s a modern mythology based on Jung! It’s Ulysses! Pilgrim’s Progress! It’s that rare popular experience that unites the ununited masses! In the book Using the Force: Creativity, Community and Star Wars Fans, Will Brooker writes of the fans: “It is the single most important cultural text of their lives.”  So much for the Bible.

But what does it mean when a collective cultural experience passes you by, not once but six times? At 34, I am exactly the right age to have developed a potent Star Wars fetish. Boba Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi (just saying those words makes me tired) should have taken root in my impressionable youth and bloomed to full-grown nostalgia by now. And don’t tell me I’m the wrong gender for spaceships and banthas, as Lucas once insisted: “Well, it’s not Titanic. This is the boy movie.” The lively website Star Wars Chicks points out that 40 per cent of Star Wars fans are women. I loved Jaws and Alien, and I take no issue with stuff blowing up; I just need some kind of credible story in between to make the explosions matter.

Star Wars after Star Wars, I have felt outside the loop. A month or so into the film’s release in 1977, when my fellow grade-schoolers were already saying, “May the force be with you!” in lieu of, “Bye. Have a nice weekend,” I was finally allowed to line up with my father, my older brother and one of his friends. (My mother somehow managed to excuse herself from many of the more commercial rites of North American childhood; she was nowhere to be seen when we hit Disneyland either.) Even at seven, I knew, acutely, that I was in the presence of a phenomenon. It’s hard to tell what came first: my youthful peers’ enthusiasm, the massive marketing campaign to capture it — or the media’s fascination with both.

As Luke delivered his terrible dialogue and Lucas’s bad comedy drew yuks — unfathomably, everyone cheered when Han Solo yelled at Chewbacca the ape thing: “Get in there you big furry oaf. I don't care what you smell!” — I feebly attempted to join in. But I was a beat behind, distracted by the ponderous Dark Side babble. Any enjoyment derived from the satisfying explosions and decent plastic costumes was marred by the story, that slow, dull 28-year-long yarn that feels as lecturing and joyless as the Davey and Goliath Christian cartoon. (Here’s a suggestion: this whole damn thing could have taken place in one inventive two-and-a-half-hour film.) If I’d been able to tell time, I would have checked my watch. Eventually, I napped a little. My father’s snoring granted me permission to do so.

And then, The Empire Strikes Back, of which I can say only this: zzzz.

By the time Return of the Jedi came out, I was 12. Reluctantly, I went along with a crowd of Grade 7s. My girlfriends were as excited as the boys, and they fell especially hard for the Ewoks — which seemed feral and cruel underneath their beards. Darth Vader’s obsession with his long-lost son dragged on interminably, even though he seemed not to give a Wookiee’s ass about his other long-lost child, Princess Leia. By this time, my classmates slept in Star Wars sheets and figurines littered the playground where we used to interact as humans. We drank pop out of Jedi cups, and ate candy out of Jabba the Hutt boxes. And yet, in 1983, lots of other movies looked as cool, so why was this series — this goofy, half-baked story about a guy with a daddy complex — still such a big deal?

To idealists and superfans, Star Wars means community, some kind of shared experience of the cinema, and the world. But for me, Star Wars is just the first time I remember being marketed to. According to a recent article in Forbes magazine, when Lucas secured the licensing rights to Star Wars toys and other promotional merchandise in 1977, he pioneered the tie-in; until then, merchandising rights began and ended with the T-shirt. Star Wars toys and merchandise have today grossed a total of $9 billion US. The sad part is that I never minded being targeted; in a way, it was a relief. Being told what to love, and what to consume, is welcomed by most children, which is why marketing to them is particularly vile. They are the most literal consumers. If a kid doesn’t buy the product, or love the film, then that kid is cast apart, and there’s enough of that in childhood anyway. If the price of not being ostracized is a $5 dolly in the shape of Palpatine, they’ll fork it over.

A marketing monster: Three-year-old Max Martin of Indianapolis, looks up to a life-sized Yoda. (AP Photo/Tom Stratman.)

These last three chapters (or these first three, excuse me, and that’s also irksome; Lucas should have made them in order, because now we know how it ends) have seemed even more cynical, convoluted and silly. Episode I: The Phantom Menace opens with about 25 minutes of titles in that familiar scroll that tells us: “The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute...” Note to insomniacs: This premise is better than sheep counting. Obviously, a film about taxation would obsess George Lucas, who, according to Forbes, is now personally worth $3 billion US.

The newer films jump from action sequence to action sequence, cramming the space between with preposterous dialogue as an afterthought. Everyone speaks in explanatory paragraphs, feebly attempting to make sense of the Republic-civil-war-Galactic-Senate-Dark-Side-White-Side muddle, talking past one another’s shoulders where their words are absorbed by green screens. George Lucas reportedly returned to direct Episodes I-III reluctantly, much preferring the solitude at the Skywalker Ranch where he can play with his Industrial Light and Magic buttons and gizmos and invent goofy, baby-babble place names like “Naboo” and “Dagobah” without any live person saying: “That’s really stupid, George.” He is as much of a sequestered loner as Woody Allen, and oddly, his films suffer from the same insularity: while Allen can’t rub some mythic version of New York out of his eyes, Lucas is so out of touch that he actually thought Jar Jar Binks — a yes-massah, jive talkin’ elephant slave — would appeal to children. He has done such a good job at faking a world that there is nothing human to cling to within its walls. No blood is spilled when all these troops go down. It is a war of ideas, not people.

Most abhorrent in the turgid Episode II — Attack of the Clones Yoda was. Whenever I awoke, the small green Jedi master seemed to be doing something vaguely humiliating, like striking a kung fu pose or bastardizing Buddhism. I’ve always hated Yoda. All those powers, but he can’t master grammar. “Stopped they must be; on this all depends.” No, all depends on the subject and the predicate in correct relation.

Of course, Episodes I and II were ridiculed, and the crass marketing — Darth Maul lawn fertilizer, anyone? — became a late-night punchline. Still, people went, more out of some sense of obligation than fun, and the films earned $542 million US combined. Somehow the public retains a sense of ownership over these films. And yet, Lucas continues to tinker for the digital market; he made Han Solo more heroic, and added a shot of Hayden Christensen, who plays Anakin Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi. Star Wars is not democratic. The films belong not to an adoring audience, but to a little boy-man playing with his toys.

Drawn to the Dark Side: Hayden Christensen plays Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith. Courtesy LucasFilm Ltd.

And now, Sith, the final chapter. Here’s my review: It’s fine, appreciably darker in spirit, and there is something marginally enjoyable in watching Anakin Skywalker become Darth Vader. The relationships are still stiff and unbelievable; pillow talk between Padmé and Anakin is mired by babble about Senate obligations and, I think, taxation. And you know how it ends.

But perhaps the reason people seem to be embracing Sith is, like all things Star Wars, economic: we want to feel we’re getting payback for all those years of investment, emotional and financial. Lucas has admitted that he held out, stuffing the last two with filler because he wanted this one to be good. In other words, he screwed us like any other advertiser, and buoyed by nostalgia and a false sense of belonging to something bigger, we don’t seem to mind. Something to sleep on.

Katrina Onstad writes about the arts for CBC.ca.

CBC does not endorse and is not responsible for the content of external sites - links will open in new window.

Letters:

While I totally disagree with almost everything in Katrina Onstad's rant about the Star Wars series of films, what I find most upsetting about her article is the lack or respect she shows not only her subject, but it's creator and the individuals who have enjoyed his creation.

Labeling Lucas "a little boy-man playing with his toys" while referring to his films as "abhorrent" and "turgid" does little to further a valid argument but instead contributes to the elitism that has condemned fantasy and science-fiction to the realm of pulp for generations. I know many people who dislike, or are indifferent to, Star Wars and its myriad of sequels. Some even go so far as to blame it for all the ills of Hollywood films today. The thing that Katrina and all the other critics of Lucas' creation seem to ignore is that the "goofy, half-baked story about a guy with a daddy complex" has somehow elicited a passion from film goers that transcends nostalgia. People care about these movies.

Katrina, I definitely understand that you did not enjoy them and I believe that you are also not alone in your irritation but your rant seems to classify Star Wars fans as mindless consumers. Star Wars brought a genre, science-fiction, into the cinematic mainstream in a way that the Lord of the Rings trilogy is just replicating now for fantasy. Dismissing the creation of an imaginary world that has entertained millions as a marketing gimmick simply because you did not enjoy it does not help a genre that has struggled for respectability. You are always entitled to your opinion but instead of making wild claims about taxes to vilify "stupid" George Lucas, perhaps you should recognize his work and contribute to elevating the discourse around this phenomenon so that science-fiction can finally be taken seriously as a piece of pop-art and entertainment.

Thank you,

Crofton Steers
Wakefield, Quebec

When I saw the heading "How George Lucas cured insomnia", I was very interested to find out both how George came to have such a problem and how he solved it. Imagine my disappointment to find instead Katrina Onstad's essay about herself.

Bruce McKay
Toronto, Ontario

I loved this review. I hadn't seen the films since childhood and when I went to see them at the re-release in theatres I was struck at how much the characters whined. I dutifully went to see the pointless Phantom Menace and I paid good money for Send in the Clones but I'm looking forward to the third/sixth film. I know that when I see it it'll be over. I'll never have to sit through another Star Wars film again. Finally, I win.

Mike Stefureak
Vancouver, British Columbia

I enjoyed Katrina Onstad's comments about "StarWars" immensely! Obviously I have been "into" this thing more than she has over the years (I almost double her age category; I am 70 and a life-long science fiction fan). The fact that I always head with great anticipation to one of the first matinees on the opening day indicates I have been sucked in, I guess! I found the new Episodes 1,2, and 3 very disappointing, - non-stop cluttered splashy digital special effects and little else. I still admire much embodied in the initial three films. especially that in the wild and wonderful galaxy of StarWars they had human characters that really seemed real and they and the other characters carried the films, complemented by what were then quite spectacular special effects. My choice of the best SW film, no contest, is "The Empire Strikes Back"......and Ms. Onstad snoozed through it?... my my!

There are a few interesting story insights in "Revenge of the Sith" and I found about the last quarter of it certainly held my attention; the rest of it is mostly mindless mayhem and destruction (as with Episodes 1 and 2) and all three of these pre-equal films suffer from characters that lack any real depth or charisma (except for the nasty Darth Sidious/Chancellor Palpatine, the Lord of the Sith).

However, I expect the Video Game generations will love these movies, and, after all, they are the target audience. Some of the fuzzy moral/ethical mystique may rub off on them in the process as well.

May the Force be with you.

Patricia Humes
Chilliwack, British Columbia

Twenty eight years ago I was a seven year old watching the first Star Wars movie with wonder, excitement and amazement. It was the latest achievement in special effects production that set a new standard in moviegoers expectations. Sure, the story line was far fetched and maybe the delivery seemed flat. But, what are you comparing it to? For a movie that some dubbed cowboys and Indians in space, it sure had better dialog than many spaghetti westerns of the time. It was then and it is now a franchise that attracts youth because its simple clean dialog has a place in family entertainment. Now I have a seven-year-old and see in him the same wonder, excitement and amazement for this movie that I had myself. While other so-called children's programs come and go along with their own merchandising, it is nice to have one that can both live up to the hype and actually give parents a connection point to bridge the generation gap.

Aaron Hellard
Ottawa, Ontario

A well done article. Even though I am a big Star Wars fan, I can never watch the films without consciously realizing how silly they are under the surface. The release of each film is a large event, and demonstrates how easily we are manipulated. I think many will declare this a triumph simply because it's not as bad as the previous two.

Jonathan Sharek
Edmonton, Alberta

Regarding Star Wars Makes Me Sleepy: who cares? There's a bit of irony here - just as the author argued that this 6-movie epic could have been encapsulated in one 2 ½ hour film, I would argue that Katrina Onstad's feelings about the series could have been summarized in one sentence rather than 14 paragraphs. Do we really need Ms. Onstad's detailed analysis of what elements she found most boring about each film? Talk about filler...

John Hall
Calgary, Alberta

I think that your review of the latest Star Wars installment misses the point of what Lucas and Spielberg have intended. These two directors/producers have made some of the most popular and profitable movies in the past 25-30 years. Most of these movies have been based upon a 30's/40's serial format. Indiana Jones and Luke Skywalker can easily be compared to the likes of Buck Rogers and the rest of the old serial series.

David Alexander
Toronto, Ontario

As a life-long Stars Wars fan, I have been waiting for the last installment with glee. I'm also old enough to realize that other people have different opinions than me. It was with great pleasure that I read Katrina Onstad's article. It made me laugh. Talk about your funny analogies of Yoda (for such an old sage, he really doesn't speak very well) and observations on planets names and Mr. Lucas' sequestered existence! Ms. Onstad does have a point on the craptacular amount of merchandising that comes out for each new film. And there is something sinister about the manipulation by Lucas of his older 'Star Wars' films to include images the way he likes it using current digital images. Millions have viewed and loved the films and purists have balked at this.

Lucas has secured his place in film history with his inventive FX production companies, his ability to see the lucrative marketing tie-ins along with his telling of a good tale. But really, what has he done in the last 30 years but a loop of perpetual film trilogies? The "Star Wars" trilogies and the "Raiders of the Lost Ark" series are seemingly the only things he has done, either as an executive producer, writer or director. Outside of his earlier grad school films and "American Graffiti", he may very well be a one-trick pony in terms of films.

Still, I'll be one of the masses lining up for the film. Okay, maybe 3 weeks from now when all of the fuss has died down because I like a moral tale of good vs. evil, I like the cool characters and I'm easily impressed by nifty special effects! Alas...

Megan Graham
Vancouver, British Columbia

Thank you, Katrina - I personally have pronounced myself as boycotting the last (hopefully) of the Star Wars movies. When I started seeing the advertising of the toys and gadgets even before the advertising of the actual new movie, I thought, 'that's IT'. No longer will my paycheck go to George Lucas and his appalling lack of real dialogue in his movies. I thought I was moronic because I hated the 2nd and 3rd movies, but I can now come out of this closet. I only liked the first one because of the effects, but then again, I was 12 years old. All I can say about the last movies and the following is blahblahblah.

Donna Hicks
Vancouver, British Columbia

I hear you talking, and I hear you making sense, but the eight year old boy in me just won't listen. I do it for nostalgia but I try not to take it too seriously. They're not deep movies; they're not well-written movies. But when the alternative is the faux reality of reality TV, when I need to feel stupid, Star Wars is my drug of choice.

Paul Sonsteby
Strathmore, Alberta

I totally agree with Katrina Onstad's critically thought article, "Star Wars Makes Me Sleepy". She is open and honest to express herself. Whenever I see the hype involved with each release of "Star War episode" it reminds me of the "Emperor's Clothes" story. And Katrina Onstad has done a fantastic job by being realistic.

Dereck Hoersted
Toronto, Ontario

From reading your article I can tell you are a gifted person because although I did not agree with you, I still read the darn thing. I agree with you that it did not have to be 6 movies over almost 30 years. The movies are not about cool battles and fancy shmancy characters, that is just the vehicle to deliver a message. Lucas has managed to convey a powerful message (the struggle of Evil versus Good) to a range of people that spans over three decades and all the continents of this planet. I'm willing to accept a bit of Hollywood if that means a powerful message is delivered to so many people. May the force be with you to keep writing good articles.

Angelos Kotzambasis
Waterloo, Ontario

Finally. Thank you Katrina Onstad for this eloquent piece that, astonishingly, seems to articulate every emotion and thought that I have harbored towards the Star Wars sextet over the course of my lifetime. It had seemed to me, until now, that I was completely alone on this Earth when it came to my opinions about this unbelievably boring and odious series of films. It is nice to know though, that Sith is the last installment that we must suffer through. Good luck, and may an adequate blindfold and some comfortable earplugs be with you.

Jacqueline Dalton
Calgary, Alberta