I've been brooding over the Star Wars universe recently, for no particular reason. What I find really fascinating is the political potentials of the storiy, and the discrepancies between the concept and the execution in the various films. I'm not much for preamble, so I'll jump right in:
The Jedi Council
What I'm addressing here is the first three movies - burned-over territories, to be sure. Probably more intense discussion has been inspired by the disappointments of Episodes I-III than the triumphs of the original trilogy. And one of the most tepid, mishandled elements of these three episodes, in my mind, was the Jedi Council. Basically we have a bunch of old men/aliens sitting around, being robotic and uptight, so poorly directed and written that even Samuel L. Jackson looks like he's in a bad Christmas pageant. In Episode I especially, we have Qui-gon Jin being upbraided for doing...something he wasn't supposed to? Are we supposed to get the impression he acted without authority, a sort of maverick? Who knows? Who cares? All the foreboding utterances of the Jedi come off as lugubrious. I've seen livelier and more profound city council meetings. The second and third films fare no better: we get a sort of canned, tiny version of the Jedi Academy, a couple of claustrophobic set pieces where no one reacts or comments upon the fact that this is a locus of power - perhaps supreme power - in the Republic.
And there's the rub: the films don't give us a wider angle on how power works in the Star Wars galaxy of that time. The original trilogy has a very simple power structure: the Galactic Empire is all-powerful, and the Rebel Alliance is fighting against it. Simple. Good versus evil. No problem. Episodes I-III fail because they cannot deal with a far more complex power structure: that of a Republic, beset by enemies within and without, full of intrigues and maneuvers. In other words: POLITICS. The Galactic Empire is so well coalesced by Episode IV, we actually get to see the instant, on board the Death Star, where power is finally completely invested in the Emperor. Politics is no longer an issue. The Emperor is all-powerful, and Darth Vader is his enforcer. The Republic, on the other hand, is a Senate democracy, like the Roman Republic, and as such is nowhere near as stable. You have all these elements vying for supremacy: the Senate, the Chancellor, the Trade Federation, and the Jedi Council.
Let's leave aside the possibilities suggested by the story of the Galactic Republic in its days of fading glory, and focus exclusively on the Jedi Council. Let's set this up: here is a 1,000-year-old organization, invested with essentially magical powers, set up as guardians and protectors of peace in the galaxy. They are now faced with a juncture in history at which their prophetic powers have failed them. There is an old prophecy that a Jedi will arise who will "bring balance to the Force". One of their Order, a maverick Jedi, is claiming to have found "The One", but nearly all the Elders are extremely apprehensive.
First of all, what function does the Jedi Order fill, specifically? They're sort of a mystical order, but have the respect of the Republic. They fulfill policing duties, but have no standing army. I'd say they're a combination of Tibetan monks and the CIA. Let's face it, not everything they do is above-board. Why are Qui-gon Jin and Obi-Wan out on missions with no backup? It's because they're agents of a semi-secret law enforcement organization. They show up when folks need to be kept in line, or kept quiet. The mere presence of a Jedi Knight scares the bejeezus out of people. Naturally there's a lot of admiration (if not adoration), but there's also a lot of fear, a worry that if you don't kowtow to the Samurai, he'll use you as lightsaber practice - Bushido Code notwithstanding.
So where's the resentment? Sure, bad guys fear and hate the Jedi...but what about ordinary galactic citizens? Regardless of how pure and nobel the Jedi Order may be, it's only natural that their actions have far-reaching consequences, unintentionally ruining lives and perhaps whole societies. Would they prop up a planetary dictator who was pro-Republic? Or would they support a "good" revolution, regardless of how much it destabilized the Republic? And how do they balance their morality against the requirements of statecraft?
The issue of morality brings up a troubling aspect of the Light Side of the Force. It's all very high-minded, to be sure; it's often upheld as a sort of sci-fi Buddhism. But to me, the Jedi Order always seemed like a bunch of cold fish. Laying aside the question of whether these Knights were as pure as they aspired to be (Qui-Gon in particular played pretty fast and loose with the rules), does passionless objectivity and the conquering of emotion translate into actual goodness? If they judged it to be rational and in alignment with their objectives, could they perform an assassination with perfect clarity and serenity? I guess my question is, does the Light Side of the Force necessarily include compassion, or does the control of the emotions proscribe this sort of attachment? The Force is a neutral power, apparently, channeling either its positive or negative aspects according to the disposition of the adept; I imagine there could be serene, passionless Jedi Knights who perform terrible acts while keeping their consciences white as snow - because it was for the greater good.
Now let's talk about power. The Jedi have been in power so long, they have to have passed their prime. It's no wonder the Council seems like a bunch of weary old men who can't control their younger members (Qui-Gon). They're pompous, yet have doubts. The Church of the Light Side has outlasted many of its ideals. The Republic pays homage to them; the populace lives in fear of them; a lot of power is concentrated into the hands of a small group of men at the top of a tower on the capital world of the galaxy. It becomes a sort of "who watches the watchmen" situation; they claim to be beholden to a higher power proscribing their actions, but I find it very, very hard to believe that some of them have not succumbed to the decadence of the Last Years of the Republic. The Jedi Order is soft now, not as honed as it was; though still a force to be reckoned with, they're less Knights Templar now than Knights of the Garter.
Which brings us to the Sith. I'd like to argue that the dichromatic approach, in which the Jedi are the angels and the Sith are demons, is absurd. There's got to be more nuance than that. We've already seen, in Episodes I-III, that the Jedi aren't beings of purity and light, so why are the Sith so damn evil? Why aren't there dabblers in the Dark Side, sort of angry young men resentful of the Jedi's oppressive power and morality? I'm not saying there shouldn't be an Ultimate Evil twosome - the Emperor and Darth Vader, say - but why don't they have a bunch of worshipful followers? For me, it would be more interesting if the Dark Siders were more like Aleister Crowley disciples: seeking enlightenment through depravity. They've rejected the stuffy, repressed societal decency of the Jedi, and instead wish to hone their powers through meditating on the deadly sins: fear, anger, suffering. The idea of there only being two Sith at one time, expressed by Yoda in Episode I, is rather stupid, and Episodes II and III bely this notion because of Count Dooku (an extremely underexplored character, in my opinion, and one that utterly squandered Christopher Lee). Wouldn't Palpatine have sniffed out Dooku's Force powers and sent Darth Maul to kill him a long time ago? Or if he'd known about Dooku all along, does this make him an anomaly among the Sith? Is he a sort of Sith Messiah, bringing about the apotheosis of a previously hunted, scattered Order? So where the hell are all the other Sith? I'd love to see a novel/comic treatment that explores the Sith and all their possibilities, rather than treating them as a bunch of one-dimensional rabid dogs.
So here's the upshot of all this: what the first three episodes were lacking, essentially, was a conceptual framework. They are really about the falling of the old order, and the ascendance of the new. They lacked the understanding that the crumbling Old Republic was rotting, just like any decadent old society does, and Palpatine merely pulled the tooth and installed an iron fang. It was a revolution against the Republic and its oppressive nannies, the Jedi Order. Instead of being blasted by faceless clone drones, the Jedi should have gone down under a mob of disgruntled fanatics. Sure, this treatment sullies the depiction of the Jedi as holy and pure and the Republic as the zenith of the galaxy's glory, but given the parameters established by the tone of the first three movies, I can see little other way in which the issue could be handled.
The Jedi Council
What I'm addressing here is the first three movies - burned-over territories, to be sure. Probably more intense discussion has been inspired by the disappointments of Episodes I-III than the triumphs of the original trilogy. And one of the most tepid, mishandled elements of these three episodes, in my mind, was the Jedi Council. Basically we have a bunch of old men/aliens sitting around, being robotic and uptight, so poorly directed and written that even Samuel L. Jackson looks like he's in a bad Christmas pageant. In Episode I especially, we have Qui-gon Jin being upbraided for doing...something he wasn't supposed to? Are we supposed to get the impression he acted without authority, a sort of maverick? Who knows? Who cares? All the foreboding utterances of the Jedi come off as lugubrious. I've seen livelier and more profound city council meetings. The second and third films fare no better: we get a sort of canned, tiny version of the Jedi Academy, a couple of claustrophobic set pieces where no one reacts or comments upon the fact that this is a locus of power - perhaps supreme power - in the Republic.
And there's the rub: the films don't give us a wider angle on how power works in the Star Wars galaxy of that time. The original trilogy has a very simple power structure: the Galactic Empire is all-powerful, and the Rebel Alliance is fighting against it. Simple. Good versus evil. No problem. Episodes I-III fail because they cannot deal with a far more complex power structure: that of a Republic, beset by enemies within and without, full of intrigues and maneuvers. In other words: POLITICS. The Galactic Empire is so well coalesced by Episode IV, we actually get to see the instant, on board the Death Star, where power is finally completely invested in the Emperor. Politics is no longer an issue. The Emperor is all-powerful, and Darth Vader is his enforcer. The Republic, on the other hand, is a Senate democracy, like the Roman Republic, and as such is nowhere near as stable. You have all these elements vying for supremacy: the Senate, the Chancellor, the Trade Federation, and the Jedi Council.
Let's leave aside the possibilities suggested by the story of the Galactic Republic in its days of fading glory, and focus exclusively on the Jedi Council. Let's set this up: here is a 1,000-year-old organization, invested with essentially magical powers, set up as guardians and protectors of peace in the galaxy. They are now faced with a juncture in history at which their prophetic powers have failed them. There is an old prophecy that a Jedi will arise who will "bring balance to the Force". One of their Order, a maverick Jedi, is claiming to have found "The One", but nearly all the Elders are extremely apprehensive.
First of all, what function does the Jedi Order fill, specifically? They're sort of a mystical order, but have the respect of the Republic. They fulfill policing duties, but have no standing army. I'd say they're a combination of Tibetan monks and the CIA. Let's face it, not everything they do is above-board. Why are Qui-gon Jin and Obi-Wan out on missions with no backup? It's because they're agents of a semi-secret law enforcement organization. They show up when folks need to be kept in line, or kept quiet. The mere presence of a Jedi Knight scares the bejeezus out of people. Naturally there's a lot of admiration (if not adoration), but there's also a lot of fear, a worry that if you don't kowtow to the Samurai, he'll use you as lightsaber practice - Bushido Code notwithstanding.
So where's the resentment? Sure, bad guys fear and hate the Jedi...but what about ordinary galactic citizens? Regardless of how pure and nobel the Jedi Order may be, it's only natural that their actions have far-reaching consequences, unintentionally ruining lives and perhaps whole societies. Would they prop up a planetary dictator who was pro-Republic? Or would they support a "good" revolution, regardless of how much it destabilized the Republic? And how do they balance their morality against the requirements of statecraft?
The issue of morality brings up a troubling aspect of the Light Side of the Force. It's all very high-minded, to be sure; it's often upheld as a sort of sci-fi Buddhism. But to me, the Jedi Order always seemed like a bunch of cold fish. Laying aside the question of whether these Knights were as pure as they aspired to be (Qui-Gon in particular played pretty fast and loose with the rules), does passionless objectivity and the conquering of emotion translate into actual goodness? If they judged it to be rational and in alignment with their objectives, could they perform an assassination with perfect clarity and serenity? I guess my question is, does the Light Side of the Force necessarily include compassion, or does the control of the emotions proscribe this sort of attachment? The Force is a neutral power, apparently, channeling either its positive or negative aspects according to the disposition of the adept; I imagine there could be serene, passionless Jedi Knights who perform terrible acts while keeping their consciences white as snow - because it was for the greater good.
Now let's talk about power. The Jedi have been in power so long, they have to have passed their prime. It's no wonder the Council seems like a bunch of weary old men who can't control their younger members (Qui-Gon). They're pompous, yet have doubts. The Church of the Light Side has outlasted many of its ideals. The Republic pays homage to them; the populace lives in fear of them; a lot of power is concentrated into the hands of a small group of men at the top of a tower on the capital world of the galaxy. It becomes a sort of "who watches the watchmen" situation; they claim to be beholden to a higher power proscribing their actions, but I find it very, very hard to believe that some of them have not succumbed to the decadence of the Last Years of the Republic. The Jedi Order is soft now, not as honed as it was; though still a force to be reckoned with, they're less Knights Templar now than Knights of the Garter.
Which brings us to the Sith. I'd like to argue that the dichromatic approach, in which the Jedi are the angels and the Sith are demons, is absurd. There's got to be more nuance than that. We've already seen, in Episodes I-III, that the Jedi aren't beings of purity and light, so why are the Sith so damn evil? Why aren't there dabblers in the Dark Side, sort of angry young men resentful of the Jedi's oppressive power and morality? I'm not saying there shouldn't be an Ultimate Evil twosome - the Emperor and Darth Vader, say - but why don't they have a bunch of worshipful followers? For me, it would be more interesting if the Dark Siders were more like Aleister Crowley disciples: seeking enlightenment through depravity. They've rejected the stuffy, repressed societal decency of the Jedi, and instead wish to hone their powers through meditating on the deadly sins: fear, anger, suffering. The idea of there only being two Sith at one time, expressed by Yoda in Episode I, is rather stupid, and Episodes II and III bely this notion because of Count Dooku (an extremely underexplored character, in my opinion, and one that utterly squandered Christopher Lee). Wouldn't Palpatine have sniffed out Dooku's Force powers and sent Darth Maul to kill him a long time ago? Or if he'd known about Dooku all along, does this make him an anomaly among the Sith? Is he a sort of Sith Messiah, bringing about the apotheosis of a previously hunted, scattered Order? So where the hell are all the other Sith? I'd love to see a novel/comic treatment that explores the Sith and all their possibilities, rather than treating them as a bunch of one-dimensional rabid dogs.
So here's the upshot of all this: what the first three episodes were lacking, essentially, was a conceptual framework. They are really about the falling of the old order, and the ascendance of the new. They lacked the understanding that the crumbling Old Republic was rotting, just like any decadent old society does, and Palpatine merely pulled the tooth and installed an iron fang. It was a revolution against the Republic and its oppressive nannies, the Jedi Order. Instead of being blasted by faceless clone drones, the Jedi should have gone down under a mob of disgruntled fanatics. Sure, this treatment sullies the depiction of the Jedi as holy and pure and the Republic as the zenith of the galaxy's glory, but given the parameters established by the tone of the first three movies, I can see little other way in which the issue could be handled.
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