Category Archives: Prequel Trilogy EU
I find myself of late pondering the nature of villains. To be honest, this line of thought stems mostly from my recent intoxication with Greggory Macguire’s Wicked, both the novel and the musical. I’m sure this makes our very own Rachel ecstatic. Though I’d been meaning to get around to those works, it was her, in her constant role as catalyst for my love of all things musical, that got me off my rump and actually delving into the wonderful works of Oz. While The Wicked Years have brought me close to the world of L. Frank Baum—until now a work I could find little enthusiasm for—my musings ventured beyond the confines of the Emerald City, past the borders of Munchkinland and the Vinkus. This past month of consideration has brought me to several conclusions, few surprising, but none that I had openly considered before.
Obviously, no piece of fiction is complete without a proper antagonist. Often it is the villain of our heroes that most stick within our minds. Why is that? Forced to consider it, I have to say that while we all strive to be the hero—saving the maiden, righting wrongs—do we not, perhaps, relate to those more villainous? Though unconsidered until I was jotting this down, I find myself increasingly convinced. It’s no surprise we have a tendency to see the worst of ourselves. This harsh introspection is a trademark of human character, and our fiction is ever a reflection of ourselves. Furthermore, heroes by nature are larger than life, and those that possess flaws seem flawed in ways we’d almost wish for. Let’s be honest, heroes, as a whole, are a fairly unbelievable lot. Without that constant foil of their dastardly foe, even our favorite protagonists would fall a little flat. Heroic figures are role models, unachievable in their epic proportions, and therefore they are hard to understand and hard for us to relate to.
Consider with me, what makes the best villains you’ve ever seen? Who are they, what do they look like? On the surface, they are either frightening and powerful, else so smooth and cool you may mistake them for an ally to our hero before realization comes crashing down on you. While there are all sorts of effective villains, many of them find their roots in something all too familiar to us. Perhaps it was heartache and love that drove them to criminal behavior, like Mr. Freeze from the Batman franchise, intent upon saving his wife at all costs. The villain may hide behind their pride and virtue, like Judge Frollo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, using that umbrella to justify his insatiable lust towards a woman and the deeds it drives him to. Maybe an immense ego places them above the reproach of their peers, like Professor James Moriarty from most Sherlock Holmes incarnations. After all, if one has no peers, does that not give them the right to do as they wish? My point, longwinded as it may be, is this; villains resonate within us because we see in them the vices and failings that we deal with in ourselves each and every day. Certainly we also possess the merits of the hero, more than we know, but those are far harder to recognize. How do you know that you were brave, or noble? Not only are the occasions to showcase those virtues scant at times, but often are so part of our nature that we don’t even realize when we have displayed them.
That all said, we come around to the central theme of this post, which seems to be a continuing examination of what makes Star Wars the cultural phenomena it is. An unintentional turn to my postings, but enjoyable nonetheless. When last I left you, I had examined some of the fights that, to me, had helped to make the franchise stand out. This time around, I will, obviously, look at the villains that challenge our ragtag group of heroes.
I can’t deny that the various antagonists of this universe have been central to the success of the franchise. From the Fetts to the classics—the likes of Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine—the villains have captured the imaginations and support of a large portion of Star Wars’ fandom. Even though, cinematically speaking, the Empire is undoubtedly the “bad guys,” they have a loyal and, might I add, large fan following. Not only do the films present us with compelling figures to lead this tyrannical government, the various mediums within the Expanded Universe have done a wondrous job of introducing members of the Imperial forces that have taken us by storm. The likes of Thrawn, Pellaeon, and Daala joined the Imperial ranks as strong, powerful figures that secured themselves a place in our memories. We as fans found that, despite being cast as undoubtedly evil, we rather liked the Empire.
For all this, however, it all comes back around to the original villains in the films. When A New Hope hit the screens, we had our first look at Darth Vader, a dark, imposing figure that strikes fear into the heart. From the size, to his suit—was he a robot, or was that body armor?—to the brilliant voice of James Earl Jones, he was the perfect villain. We saw him as a highly skilled, merciless adversary. We certainly wanted to hate him. Yet, as we progress through the original trilogy, we come to learn more of his past and, more importantly, his present state. Vader is not evil, that had never been his intent. Instead, we see he is a man who lost everything, including much of his body. His spirit is broken, and he moves throughout the films as a specter of who he could have been. That changes in The Empire Strikes Back. When he learns that he has a son, more importantly when we learn he is Luke’s father, his first words are, “Come with me. My son, I’m offering you the galaxy.” Paraphrasing, sure, but that’s hardly a selfish sentiment. We see a depth that we thought beyond the man. When he witnesses his son being brutally murdered before his eyes, Vader rises up and destroys his master of decades. That spirit returns, Vader is healed, and it is a glorious redemption. In those last moments we see Vader for who he is, and suddenly the depth of his character becomes a little clearer. It’s subtle, but once built upon by the Expanded Universe and Prequel Trilogy, (Though, I think the character of Anankin Skywalker was criminally mishandled, so much so that it almost ruins the character of Vader for me, but that is a conversation for another day) we see that depth at its fullest and Vader steps forward as, perhaps, one of the best villains in recent history.
Even Vader, however, would not be nearly as effective without Palpatine looming over him. Here we have the classic villainous mastermind. Powerful, cunning, manipulative, you want to hate Palpatine. The Emperor, that classic twisted figure, boils your blood with his self-assured manner. A man that rose to take dominion of the majority of the civilized galaxy with primarily his cunning, he is the ultimate evil, serving to illustrate the merits of the heroes in the film. Add in the more minor villains—Boba Fett, Grand Moff Tarkin with his condescending confidence, even the minor moffs and Jabba the Hutt—and you have a broad spectrum of top notch villains that certainly make the galaxy a far more complicated place for our scrappy little rebellion friends.
The films themselves see phenomenal success in the area of bad guys, but it’s not until we get into the Expanded Universe that Star Wars shines in the field of villainy. With the downfall of the Empire, we see factions and splinter groups cropping up everywhere. A young New Republic struggles to assert dominance. We see the introduction of new villains who, in the end, we’re not sure if they truly are villains. Politicians in the New Republic end up more corrupt than their Imperial counterparts. Every which way we turn, we can’t be sure who to root for and who to boo down. Logic may dictate who the “bad guys” are, but our gut tells us that it’s simply all one big mish-mash, and depending on your point of view, the tag of villain can be thrown all over the place, just as the moniker of hero can. In my opinion, this is when a work transcends a simple story and becomes a living, thriving world. As the reader—or viewer, or player, whichever is applicable—begins to realize that the depth of the universe is such that it is possible to see the merits of any faction, that there are no true good guys or bad guys, they begin to experience it all more personally. It feels more real. When you reach this point, everything is connected and the universe begins to develop such depth that it is easy and, in fact enjoyable, to get lost in the intricacies, to forget for a moment that you’re sitting on Earth, reading a book.
For all the flak I give Star Ward of late, in particular the Expanded Universe, the hodge-podge of ideas, beliefs, styles, and preferences of the various authors, illustrators, designers, etc. have all come together to form a deep, thriving world that’s alive in its own right. These characters and events aren’t just stories told us once upon a time, but people and places that have taken root and live a little bit in each of our hearts and imaginations. As a collective fan base, we have kept alive the universe we love between the droughts and valleys, waiting patiently for the next movie, the next series, the next video game. While the world is compelling, while the heroes are endearing, it’s the villains that, inevitably, keep us coming back to the Galaxy Far, Far Away.
There is nothing more iconic of the Star Wars saga than the lightsaber. A simple statement, hardly surprising, but nonetheless true. Whether in novels, video games, comics, or the films, this piece of technology—and its wielders—stand at the center of revolutions and atrocities alike. They have been used to enforce order and to prolong tyrannical rule. Whether a rite of passage or a symbol of power, lightsabers inspire awe and dread amongst the denizens of the Galaxy Far Far Away. Within the confines of our own galaxy, however, regards towards these awesome weapons tend towards fascination. Since the first snap-hiss heard in Ben Kenobi’s small desert hovel, lightsabers have stirred our curiosity and inspired our sense of wonder. I imagine one would be hard pressed to find a fan of the franchise that didn’t want one.
What is it then that sparks our imaginations when we see these prismatic blades burst to life on screen? The concept is not necessarily original. Blades of pure energy are, while not exactly a staple of science fiction, hardly uncommon, but nowhere else does it leave such a lasting impression as within the Star Wars franchise. My first real post I’d like to start, methinks, on one of my two favorite aspects of the Star Wars universe. Move into this thing slow, as it were. I imagine this won’t be a short one, but few of my musings tend to be.
No doubt lightsabers have moved so fully into our hearts due to the stunning duels present in all of the films. More than simple fight sequences integrated to hold our interest, these battles embody the spirit of the space opera genre. Filled with passion and thrilling sense of danger, these duels provide a dramatic touch to the copious amounts of action within the films that has been integral to defining the core of the Star Wars franchise. Each fight serves a purpose. Often the fate of the galaxy rests on the shoulders of the victor. How would the history of the galaxy have changed if Luke had slain his father aboard Cloud City? If Darth Maul had triumphed over Obi-Wan Kenobi, what then would have become of young Anakin Skywalker? In the end, these duels are so compelling due to this history altering potential, but more importantly, the audience is made so acutely aware of the consequences of the battle. These fight scenes are no longer filler to captivate a bored audience, but essential parts of the story allowing the viewer to immerse themselves more fully into the drama unfolding before them.
So perhaps it is hardly surprising that the duels between Sith and Jedi are my favorite parts of the movies. I’m sure most fans would agree. Still, it is a safe place to begin, and I felt the urge to rank my top five fight scenes in the franchise’s six movies. You may agree or disagree with my choices, and I would love to discuss the merits and flaws of my reasoning below in the comments, if you should feel so inclined. Keep in mind, however, that I am not ranking the fights purely on choreographic merit. I am taking into account anything from the cinematography to the emotions of the scene to the context within the story being told. So, without further ado, we have number:
5 Master Yoda versus Count Dooku – Attack of the Clones (2002)
There is a part of me that didn’t want to include this fight on my list. I have my fair share of issues with this movie and these scenes in particular, and maybe someday I’ll go into those in more length (though I doubt you haven’t heard any of my grievances before). Retrospectively I am very uncomfortable with the animated Yoda, part of me ever the traditionalist and therefore longing for the good ole puppet.
That said, there can be no denying the impact of this scene. Sitting in a dark theatre, watching as the cripple Master Yoda, known so long and never seen moving quicker than a hobble, come to the aid of the young Jedi Knights lying defeated at Count Dooku’s feet. Though the Force-off is a bit much for me, and some of the lines are questionable, once the sabers come out it’s impossible to be unimpressed. As the fight spins and twirls across the room, one is left breathless at the feats of acrobatics being displayed. This scene was much-needed character development for the favorite old Jedi Master and helps to reinforce, in part, why this tiny being commands the respect he does. We also see for the first time in cinematic form the acrobatic capabilities of a master of the Force, and animated or no, it is awe inspiring. To me given all it introduces to the franchise, this scene nails the solid fifth slot.
4 Master Obi-Wan Kenobi versus Darth Vader—A New Hope (1977)
Who can forget this fight scene? It makes the list for a multitude of reasons, chief amongst them being that it was the first we saw of two lightsabers battling for supremacy. Though unimpressive choreography by standards of the fights to come in the franchise’s lifetime, it still presents an impressive showing. Consider also the mysterious references to a shared past, only lightly touched at this point, and this scene is poignant indeed. It is most set apart, however, by an underlying feeling that, perhaps, they are not trying as hard as they might. Each is calm, collected. While it is undeniable that only one of them will walk away, it seems that neither is trying overtly hard to end the life of their former friend. Context given, of course, by the expansion on their past that the Prequel Trilogy gives, but upon reviewing this scene it’s a fair assumption, I think.
3 Master Obi-Wan Kenobi versus Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader—Revenge of the Sith (2005)
The duel that the entire Prequels were driving towards, that unavoidable confrontation between two friends, slides in at number three. Though I have my qualms with it, largely the poor scripting on some of the lines and Hayden’s delivery (But again, we’ll not derail the discussion too greatly), this scene truly does deserve to be here. In the least, it is the stunning, energetic conclusion to the downfall of Anakin Skywalker. Though I noticed a lot of movements that were clearly gratuitous flair thrown in for no rational reason—fighting fluff—the majority of the duel was fast paced and exciting. The energy of it all was stirring, and the break in the fighting on the river of lava was irritating. That was a compliment. Considering the characters as they had been portrayed to this point, the conclusion was just as it should be. Still, for all its cinematic splendor, I couldn’t think to give it a slot higher than third, and almost didn’t give it that.
2 Luke Skywalker versus Darth Vader—The Empire Strikes Back (1980)
Second on my list, Luke’s first encounter with the mysterious and evil Darth Vader. Of the Original Trilogy, this is by far, in my opinion, the most energetic fight sequence. We see a brash Luke Skywalker walking into Darth Vader’s trap. Up until this point, Luke has been seen as a bit of a powerful hero, and it’s not truly until he walks into that room that the audience sees how woefully inadequate the boy is for going up against the skill and experience of someone of Darth Vader’s caliber. Here, we see the man responsible for the decimation of the entire Jedi Order. Here we see the cold, calculated killer, playing with his prey. The fight perfectly reflects this experience gap. Skywalker didn’t stand a chance. Still, the boy has guts, and is able to hold his own, of a sorts. Granted, most of this seems to be without his lightsaber while crawling through catwalks and ductwork, but one uses what one has handy.
All this makes this scene truly superb, but one thing skyrockets it to the number two slot. This is the scene that leads up to the big reveal of Vader’s paternity of Luke Skywalker. Here, Luke’s universe is shattered as he learns the truth that Obi-Wan tried to keep from him. Still, Vader offers to raise Luke up, to rule the galaxy together. Come now, that’s one swell dad, don’t you think? Especially considering the old cyborg had only known he had a child for a fairly short time. In the end, this fight sequence, to me, is a large part of Empire’s acclaim amongst the fanbase. It was truly a magnificent scene.
1 The Duel of the Fates—The Phantom Menace (1999)
Come now, could there be any doubt? This fight is the pinnacle of lightsaber duels the movies over. All leading up to it were in preparation, and all after only wish they could have succeeded so magnificently. No other fight in the franchise has been named. A large part of this, to be fair, was due to the amazing score written specifically for this duel, only adding to its splendid execution. We see our first saber staff, and the enigmatic Darth Maul made us all rethink our knowledge of lightsabers. The possibilities were amazing, and as a young boy I was captivated, even if I was always the Obi-Wan fan of my siblings.
More than this, of all the fight scenes present in the movies, none matches the Duel of the Fates for sheer perfection of Choreography. This scene was the last, and perhaps first, scene that was designed as nothing more than a true fight to the death. There are no attempts at witty banter, most likely failed. There is no plot exposition. Instead, we are awarded with intensity and ferocity hitherto unseen in Star Wars and, dare I say, never seen again. This fight brings with it an unreached level of—excuse my language—badassery that left none of the combatants looking weak or unskilled. When Qui-Gon Jinn is slain, you don’t think him inferior. You don’t blame him for losing. He gave a hell of a fight, and you couldn’t be prouder. When Maul is at last defeated, there is no denying his skill, nor is Obi-Wan found undeserving of his victory. In the end, when Qui-Gon is dying, and Obi-Wan takes on the young Sith Lord Maul, we see emotion and proficiency of fighting that we don’t see again. I will officially disagree with Drew on one point. I do not think that Obi-Wan’s later duel with Anakin can match this scene. Something indescribable sends this fight rocketing away from the rest, in a league of its own. It is, truly, ranked amongst the best fight scenes I have seen in any genre or medium.
To me, this duel easily deserves the slot of number one. The only qualm I have, throughout the entire scene, is that Maul’s death is just a tad slow, a bit less fluid than it should be. Considering my issues with even the other four on this list, I think that is impressive beyond expression.
Now that that is all done, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Not nearly the bitter old meanie I portrayed in my first posting. Perhaps I was just pulling your leg, and I’m really just a normal Star Wars fan doing an honest review of some of my favorite scenes? Well, to lay fears to rest, be aware that the worst fight scenes will be forthcoming. Some of them will be surprising, I think. I will be far less forgiving.
At any rate, I appreciate you trudging through this. As I said, feel free to comment, though I won’t rise to pointless bickering about opinion. I don’t expect to change your mind, nor desire you to change mine. Another posting will come at some point, I’m sure, so in the meantime, feel free to hit me up with any questions you may have.
Good morning, all! As we did yesterday with our weekly look at comics, we begin a weekly series in which I will review each of the 102 episodes of the hit Cartoon Network series, The Clone Wars. The final episodes are rumored for a web release, after which they will also be included.
As a brief recap, we join Yoda and three clone troopers on their way Toydaria to meet with King Katuunko regarding plans to build a Republic base on the system. As is often the case, Count Dooku has picked up “intelligence,” and cuts Yoda off at the pass by sending the bumbling, stumbling Asajj Ventress to await him, as well as an ambush fleet to divert the Republic cruiser. What can only be described as a game ensues, and Yoda is predictably victorious, topping things off by humiliating Ventress in front of holoDooku. Toydaria then joins the Republic effort.
As we know, this is not the first story, chronologically, in the puzzle that is TCW. It is assumed that this story takes place shortly after the first Mandalorian plotline. However, as the first episode that was produced, there was a remarkable amount of pressure to succeed in what was a relatively untapped medium of 3D animation. This episode, in comparison to those that follow, is not all that memorable in terms of plot complexity and character interaction- we will see and study some of the finest contributions to the Star Wars Universe in later reviews. Nonetheless, this episode was tremendously important, as it connected back first with Empire (in its portrayal of Yoda as a crazy old coot, in contrast to his deadly serious nature of the PT), and then with Sean Stewart’s masterful Yoda: Dark Rendezvous, through Yoda’s tense, brief interaction with Dooku. There are no threats between them, just a simple acknowledgement, but they do still refer to each other as old “master” and “Padawan,” which always brings to mind one of the most memorable quotes from the EU, the timeless promise that Yoda once told a young Dooku: “When you fall, be there to catch you, I will.” They are now mortal enemies, and Dooku undoubtedly engineers multiple attempts to kill Yoda, in this episode alone. Yoda knows what Dooku is capable of, and that the boy he trained, “gone he is.” However, it is difficult to miss the foundation of respect that remains betwen them, even though it is a respect for what once was a powerful bond and partnership. A rare visual example of interaction between two wise Masters who took different paths is the image I am left with from this episode.
“Ambush” receives a 75/100. The voice acting from Tom Kane is exquisite, as always, and the imagery of Toydaria, a new visual frontier, is impressive. Unlike most episodes that we will discuss, this was a “one-shot,” and there are no loose ends. The story, albeit basic, is touching, particularly Yoda’s interaction with the clones, who are distinctly aware of their lack of humanity. Feel free to leave your own grades for the episode in the comment section below!
Until next week, when we delve into the Malevolence trilogy, may the Force be with you. Enjoy your Sunday,
Luceno’s Labyrinth of Evil and Genndy Tartakovsky’s Clone Wars microseries (ran from 2003-05) present the Battle of Coruscant in different lights, a continuity dilemma that has always irked me, to some degree, as they were likely in production around the same time. While I favor Luceno’s version in terms of the gritty realism, the scope that the microseries was able to present through its trademark exaggerated visual style (i.e. Saesee Tiin leading the fighters into space, where a massive battle was already raging) also makes it one of the two to three most memorable storylines of the short-run series. Labyrinth does this event in Galactic history well in that it provides backstory for the giant, overreaching question that is not even approached in the microseries – HOW!? Just as many would question Roosevelt’s administration following the Japanese assault on a crucial US Naval Base in 1941, or those who accuse the second Bush administration of prior knowledge of 9/11, how on earth could the capital planet be invaded without some sort of inside assistance? Of course, we, standing outside the fourth wall, know a great deal about that “inside assistance,” but it is an assumption that the writers of the micro-series should not have presumed, I would argue.
Luceno provides the needed backdrop, albeit simplistic- the “shield generator,” as referred to by Shaak Ti, was deactivated or destroyed. Thoughtful characters such as Padme seem baffled by this, but, as is the tragedy of the Prequel Trilogy, the dots are a bit too far apart for connecting. Windu also suggests some skepticism as to the timing of this assault, as it came at the end of a lengthy operation intended to root out the truth about Darth Sidious.
As a practical matter, one would believe that the value of Coruscant to the Republic surely warrants some sort of backup security measures out of the hands of one single person (similar to modern-day nuclear codes), even if he is the Dark Lord of the Sith masquerading as Supreme Chancellor. However, one would have to acknowledge that logic is seemingly defied at many points throughout the Clone Wars, the excuse for which is that everything is interwoven into the brilliantly hideous plan of its curator. Dooku’s mark is surely on this treachery as well, as he assists Grievous in commandeering a Republic gunboat that takes him directly to 500 Republica, hoodwinking Windu and Kit Fisto long enough for Grievous to lay waste to Palpatine’s security detail, made up of nameless Jedi and his trademark red guards.
The level of coordination is absolutely flawless, and we as the reader/viewer are led to believe that this is all due to Jedi being extended to the Outer Rim sieges on Palpatine’s orders. Perhaps we should even assume that, should Kenobi and Skywalker have been allowed back home, they could have disrupted this plot. Yoda harps on the ability of the Dark Side to cloud everything many times throughout the films and the EU, but while this is truly Grievous’ “finest hour,” as Sidious transmits to him during Luceno’s novel, it is, first and foremost, a staggering failure for the Order. All practical matters aside, if we as fans are to believe Yoda when he definitively tells Luke “No” when asked if the Dark Side is stronger, and are also expected to make all of these logistical leaps in assuming Palpatine could, in the blink of an eye, disable the planetary defenses for the Republic capital, the greatest leap of all is accepting that the Jedi were absolutely, totally blinded to all of this. Mace wishes to tell the Senate in AOTC that the Order’s ability to use the force has “diminished.” The way I see it, in this instance, Palpatine turns it completely off, as easily as he flips the switch on the planetary shield. And that is a small detail worth exploring.
More to come this week! And we’ll make sure to talk about Kit Fisto’s blue lightsaber.
Each time I finish up Luceno’s cracking lead-in to ROTS, I am left with great confusion, and a feeling similar to that of watching a brilliant comeback in the first round of the NFL playoffs by a team who has no business winning (for example, the 2011 Denver Broncos)- it is enjoyment and excitement..for the moment. But we know it won’t last. Their friendship isn’t perfect, but it feels right, and for each of their sakes, I just want it to last a little longer.
Near the end of the novel, following the dynamic duo’s biting on Sidious and Dooku’s head-fake that led them to Tythe, we see a side of Anakin Skywalker that is rarely touched upon in the Clone Wars novelizations (or successfully often) outside of a few instances. His hatred for Dooku, so strong that the roar of his voice results in the literal collapse of the structure in which they all stand, is tempered by his subsequent emotional outburst to Obi-Wan, once he realizes that all is not right on Coruscant. It is well-written, genuine, human exchanges such as these that I prefer to frame young Skywalker by, not the heavy-handed hissy fits thrown on Tatooine after killing the Tuscans, or the childlike whining to Padme about “wanting more” at the beginning of ROTS. Luceno has long been one of my favorite SW authors, I should say in full disclosure- this is why:
Anakin: “You’re my best friend. Tell me what I should do. Forget for a moment that you’re wearing the robes of a Jedi and tell me what I should do!”
Obi-Wan: “The Force is our ally, Anakin. When we’re mindful of the Force, our actions are in accord with the will of the Force. Tythe wasn’t a wrong choice. It’s simply that we’re ignorant of its import in the greater scheme.”
Anakin: “You’re right, Master. My mind isn’t as fast as my lightsaber.”
Obi-Wan felt as if someone had knotted his insides. He had failed his apprentice and closest friend. Anakin was suffering, and the only balm he offered were Jedi platitudes.
(Luceno, Labyrinth, 283-84)
We see another emotional exchange that closes the story, when Obi-Wan attempts to make up for his perceived failure in this exchange by showering Anakin with support, in another touching and memorable scene. He does this again in ROTS, before leaving for Utapau. However, even though we are shown through hints throughout this book and Stover’s novelization of ROTS that Obi-Wan is likely cognisant of the romantic relationship Anakin shares with Padme, he is unable to break out the tendencies shared by Qui-Gon Jinn and Yoda to reply to real, human emotions with rigid, emotionless language. And as we know, standing outside the fourth wall, it is the inability of the Order to conform itself that ultimately leaves it vulnerable to destruction.
Tomorrow, we’ll take a look at this novel in the context of the Clone Wars microseries, and why Kit Fisto is carrying a blue lightsaber. Wait, what!?