Monday, July 2, 2012

Old and New: Star Wars and the Polemics of Change


I am a Star Wars fan. Not a fanatic, but a fairly sizeable fan. I was beyond psyched to see the releases of the Special Editions of the original trilogy, and despite the problems I had with the tweaks George Lucas made on them, eagerly awaited the prequels, Episodes I-III. Need I say that I was severely disappointed with the results? 

I’ve mostly moved on from the debacle that was the Prequilogy, the way one moves on after the house one grew up in is demolished to put in a convenience store. (Though I still nurse a distant grudge against GL for, well, everything connected with the second trilogy; I fantasize about blowing up that convenient store like Martin Blank). (If you don’t get that reference, it’s okay). (But you should watch the movie Grosse Point Blank). (Like, immediately). 

Visiting my good friends the Eglis, we were browsing through Netflix for a suitable diversion when Caleb recommended a documentary called The People vs. George Lucas. This film, which may interest even the uninterested newcomer to all things Star Wars, served to reopen many of the wounds of the past, as well as introduce some new ones. (Thanks, Caleb). The filmmakers interview myriad fans and connoisseurs of Star Wars and popular culture, charting the history of the original trilogy up to present day. And the essence of the story revolves around the right of George Lucas to change the universe of Star Wars to suit his own designs, not only in the new movies and shows that have come out in recent years, but in his updating of the original movies. There is an almost universal loathing of Lucas for his treatment of the fans’ sensibility, at least according to them. And some of the clips they insert of Lucas himself don’t help dispel the image of him as an egomaniacal control freak consumed with squeezing every possible cent out of the tortured fans that made him an icon in films.

Afterward, I was discussing it with the gracious hosts and happened to mention that there seems to be a strange parallel to the Jewish religious rulers’ (and, I’m sure, many of the common people who made up their congregations) reactions to the Incarnation and the inevitable obsolescence of the Old Covenant. And I thought it might be interesting and possibly instructive to explore this analogy further.

In the beginning there was an original doctrine laid down by the creator. God gave the Ten Commandments as well the Levitical practices for offering sacrifices. These were the precepts by which man could expunge his guilt and sin before God. Similarly, Lucas gave the original trilogy of movies, which created a cultural phenomenon and served as a seminal touchstone in a great many people’s lives.
Also, once the originator finished laying down the first words, the adherents began to expand upon what was originally communicated. The six hundred and fourteen laws that existed by the time Jesus walked into the Temple were the exhaustive attempts by man to improve upon God’s laws. Similarly, fans throughout the years began to write books, to recreate the original stories, as well as create fictionalized tales of Lucas’ early days and how he created the Star Wars saga. By the time the next trilogy came out, dozens, possibly hundreds of novels were on shelves featuring the characters originally from the film, along with new characters, adventures, and conclusions beyond anything Lucas could have possibly anticipated.

Next, the creator made some changes. (Do bear in mind this is an imperfect analogy. Don’t get riled if I seem to suggest blasphemous analogous elements; such is not my intention). God, who had always been a monotheistic deity (in fact, this aspect of the Hebrew religion is what differentiated them from every other world religion heretofore), introduced a Son, who also introduced a Spirit, thus creating a Trinity in the person of Father-Son-Holy Spirit. This was a major departure from the way Jews had always understood God; the religious rulers of the day used this blasphemy to justify killing this upstart preacher from Nazareth.
Similarly, Lucas changed some elements in the original trilogy, sprucing it up to appear more modern and technologically advanced. Further, he caused a quiet outrage by explaining the Force, the source of the Jedi’s power, not by means of a spiritual or mental power, but rather made up of microscopic particles call midichlorians, thus allowing a rational, biological explanation for a philosophical quandary (namely, “What is the Force?).  Fans were incensed.

And this is where the true similarity appears to me, what originally got this concept rattling in my brain. Because I watched the fans rant and rage about what had been done to the stories they loved so much, how Lucas had betrayed their trust with the Special Edition Original Trilogy, then the Prequels, coupled with the incessant and ubiquitous marketing and commercialization of the saga while simultaneously ignoring fan sentiment. It was fascinating and not a little instructive that Lucas refuses to release the original trilogy in the most updated format as they were originally aired in theatres, only providing the updated versions, the “true” versions that he wanted to release back then but didn’t or couldn’t. Much was made of this fact in the film, the outright disdain which Lucas seems to view the fans while he still attempts to cajole them into buying whatever products he releases. The creator does his own thing, and the acolytes utterly reject it.

Sound familiar? The Jewish religious leaders were by far the driving force that put Jesus on the cross, and continued their persecution of the early Christian church. The new doctrine of the New Covenant, that Jesus the Messiah had come and provided victory over death, a final sacrifice for sin, and a direct relationship to God the Father for everyone, directly threatened the status quo that the Pharisees and Sadducees used to obtain wealth and influence. If men didn’t need to offer sacrifices or sojourn to the Temple to communicate with God through His appointed leaders, then the priests would have to find another line of work, and one that probably wouldn’t give them the status to which they were accustomed. Small wonder they so vehemently rejected the Gospel.

Perhaps herein lies the lesson: in certain circumstances, good can become ossified to the point where it is no longer good. And when change comes, those who attach too much importance on what came before resist that change to their own detriment. And I say this as one who falls much more into the betrayed, outraged camp than one who had no problem with the new movies. Interestingly enough, kids like the new movies, kids with no deep attachment to the previous movies, who take things as they come and enjoy things for what they are. Part of my disappointment with the new movies was my expectations that they would be like the old movies. But everything had changed since the original movies were made: the culture, the technology, the fans, the actors, Lucas himself, the community of the Star Wars universe. It was rather ridiculous to imagine that the new movies would resemble the old. Ossification.

And the Old Covenant was incomplete precisely because it was originally intended to be merely a shadow, a picture, a map, an analogy of the coming Messiah Jesus. The sacrifices, the various precepts, the symbols, everything about the Old Covenant paved the way for the New Covenant. The Old Covenant was like hearing someone describe a foreign country; no matter how great the detail or evocative the language of the description, it’s not the same thing. The New Covenant was actually going to the place, seeing the sights, hearing the sounds, savoring the smells, soaking in the atmosphere. It’s everything the description said it would be, but oh so much more! It’s 2D vs 3D. It’s life vs. a pale imitation.

(Though don’t mention 3D to Lucas; he’ll try to release all six movies in 3D. Anything for a buck. Yeah, I’m still bitter).

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