Obi-Wan Kenobi: Part VI

 "It's not about us, is it? It's about you and him."

This is the perfect finale to a series which, well, has no pretensions to greatness in the same way as The Mandalorian, and could be fairly well described as what we Doctor Who fans call "fanwank", in that ot's the sort of thing that a talented fan might do as fan fiction, only on Disney Plus. That's what this is. It isn't high art. 

But there's nothing wrong with not being high art. Not being a clever pastiche of a Western like The Mandalorian is no crime. This isn't great, but it's bloody good fan service, and that's ok.

So I'm going to sing the phrases of this awesome final episode. It's jolly good, after all. The fight scene between Obi-Wan and Darth is superb, despite how predictable ot inevitably has to be in a serial where the scaffolding of continuity already exists. The scene where Vader's mask is punctured, and Hayden Christensen's voice replaces that of James Earl Jones, is effective. Somis the late moment where the Emperor (77 year old Ian McDiarmid) rebukes Vadervfor his obsession with Kenobi, conveniently enabling to eke out an existence on Tattooine until Star Wars.

Reva's redemption arc is touching: I hope we see her again. Unable to kill Anakin's son Luke as revenge, she is freed from the prison of her past, and able to be who she wants to be. This is a powertful message; abuse as a child or young person need not define you as a person.

The parting between Obi-Wan and Leia is lovely. And it's incredibly predictable- as is much in this episode, not that it's a bad thing- that Qui-Gon Jinn's ghost shoud appear at the very end.

Ah, thos is fanwank, pure and simple. But fanwank doesn't get better than this.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Part V

 "Was beginning to think you weren't coming, Master..."

SPOILERS!

This  is the finest episode so far, full of both excitement and character stuff between Obi-Wan, Darth and the mysterious Reva, who in the same episode is made Grand Inquisitor, which will annoy lots of people, and has her origin revealed. It is at once an impressively jaw-dropping revelation and an apparent plot hole: how the Hell can a former youngling have managed to become an Inquisitor without arousing suspicion?

Tala, too, gets an origin reveal of sorts, confessing at her past complicity oin atrocities, including upon force-sensitive children, which is why she has since dedicated her life to this proto-Rebel cause. It's appropriate that this moment should come moments before she atones with a heroic death in one of those tropes that often works despite the fact you can usually see it coming.

Obi-Wan gets to be a hero, with his new lightsabre. There's lots of Darth. We even get a meaningful flashback to their younger days, complete with actual Hayden Christensen. And we getr an interestingly ambiguous ending. This may not be grreat telly, but it's certainly good. And it's ok to just be good.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Part IV

 "I let them go..."

This is, one senses early on, a middle episode that's there to get from A to B in preparation for the last two episodes- Obi-Wan recovers from his ordeal at the hands of Vader, rescues Leia and acquaints himself with more Rebel allies.

We have Obi-Wan and Tala (I like her, and not only because she's Susie from Torchwood) being heroic and brave. We have some new trebel characters. We have lots of fan-pleasing use of Imperial tropes- officers, droids, Stormtroopers, TIE fighters. It's fun, and it's exciting.

Indeed, it echoes Star Wars- the film, not the franchise; there's no such film as A New Hope, whatever George Lucas may wish- in that Leia is brave under the threat of torture and she is ultimately rescued by a Jedi with a blue lightsabre, assisted by a Rebel fleet. Yet it's interesting to see the dynamic between Darth and his protege, sort of, Reva, who is an inyteresting character, very well played by Moses Ingram in a way which perhaps flatters the writing a little.

This episode is, perhaps, merely transitional. But the action sequences are fun and I enjoyed it. What more needs to be said?

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Part III

 "He's coming, Master..."

Halfway through and, yes, this series is somewhat predictable in how it's padding out. It looks good, it's acted well, but the story is nothing ground-breaking, still, prepared to the work of Jon Favreau. But that's actually ok. This may not be awesome, or ground-breaking, but it's very good nonetheless. It's pure fanwank, but very good fanwank.

This is essentially about Obi-Wan trying to get Leia to safety without getting caught by Stormtroopers, and there are a lot of suitably dramatic tension-filled scenes. But it's also, from the first shot, in which Vader emerges from his flotation tank to put on his armour, about the countdown to a lightsabre fight between Obi-Wan and Vader, which is a huge event but which Kenobi essentially loses but survives- much like Luke in The Empire Strikes Back.

The chemistry between Obi-Wan and Leia here, moving realistically from wariness to mutual affection, is brilliant, and makes us see her message to him in Star Wars quite differently. But the cliffhanger is deeply horrifying, as it should be. And I love the deliciously petty power struggle between the two Inquisitors, and the real sense of political divisions over order vs freedom now the Empire is in charge.

It's also great to see Indira Varma, who was superb in Torchwood and is superb here, and it's especially awesome to hear James Earl Jones. This may not be original stuff, but I'm having fun with it.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

"Mr. President, we must not allow a mineshaft gap."

This isn't the first time I've seen Dr. Strangelove, which is probably a good thing: this time I was able to look past the hilarious script and superb comic performances from, yes, Peter Sellers but the whole cast to Kubrick's superb direction and, perhaps, a slightly deeper context.

Still, it's worth emphasising that not only is this one of the funniest films ever but Sellers is utterly, utterly outstanding in all three of the parts he plays. Sterling Hayden deserves a mention, though, as does the utterly hilarious George C. Scott. And yet.... the Cuban Missile Crisis is less than two years ago and the film was made at what must have been the absolute peak of absolute nuclear annihilation. Strip away the comedy and this is a bleak and terrifying film (the concept of the Soviet doomsday device alone is existentially fearsome) which ends in absolute nuclear holocaust to the strains of Vera Lynn. And yet I think that both the humour and the underlying bleakness owe much to Catch-22 (the extraordinary novel: I haven't seen the film), another example of absolutely dark and horrible subject matter being leavened by a very mid-twentieth century absurdist style of humour which brings us back, again, to the existentialism which underpins this film, one of the greatest ever made.

Oh, and it's great, if weird, to hear the imperial tones of James Earl Jones in a film thirteen years before his signature role!

Conan the Barbarian (1982)

"Conan, what is best in life?"

"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women!"

I'm a bit OCD when it comes to consuming popular culture. If I miss an episode of a television drama, I can't watch the next one until I've seen the one I missed. I can never watch a film from part way through; I absolutely have to see the start. I wasn't always such an extreme case, though, which means that in my late teens I actually did read some of Robert E. Howards's Conan stories. I'm not sure I could do that now, for those very OCD reasons. What order are the books supposed to be in? Does it matter? Does the stuff written by L. Sprague De Camp count as "canonical"? Is there some sort of overlap with the stories of H.P. Lovecraft whose stories, I believe, were published by the same pulp magazine? Also, incidentally, why are there so very few films based on Lovecraft's stories?

I remember enjoying what I read, but very little about it because, I suspect, it was extremely disjointed. I liked the book covers, though; that I do remember. And this film faithfully recreates that aesthetic of scantily clad, sexy individuals of both sexes, sorcerers in horned headgear, loads of snakes, and really cool armour with even cooler helmets. It's a shame about all the mullets (not Arnie, fortunately), but I believe they were still legal in the early '80s. Still, the whole look of the film is bloody good. I'm now rather interested in reading about this whole world, and when I've finished this article I'll be off for a spot of Wikipeding.

But… it's really rather easy to pick holes in the whole idea of the Hyborean age, isn't it? This made-up epoch between the fall of Atlantis and the beginning of recorded history is pretty much an invitation to look for anachronisms- and here we get concepts such as Valhalla, Vanir and a character called "Thorgrim" with a massive warhammer. The technology level is very much Iron Age or later; the first thing we see is steel being worked, we see corn being ground with a quern early on, and I'm trying to recall if the horses had stirrups. I suppose you can explain some of these things as being lost in some later cataclysm, but it's rather hard to explain the sight of horses being ridden. I believe that horses were fairly light-weight until at least the Iron Age, which is why their use in warfare was pretty much limited to chariots for all but the lightest of uses.

Still, let's not pick holes, fun though it is. A fictional "lost" age is probably the only way you can do this kind of hard-edged, rough and ready sort of sword and sorcery stuff. These characters are neither stupid nor uncultured (they have poetry and philosophy), but there's a roughness to them. Speech is extremely direct. There are absolutely no pleases, thank yous or any other kind of verbal politeness. Characters mean what they say and hat they mean, which doesn't make them in any way shallow, unintelligent or incapable of irony or humour. Their society may be very harsh indeed, but there's an innocent lack of guile to them, and they're perfectly capable of warmth, love and even a kind of articulacy.

Not Arnold Schwarzenegger, though. Of course not. Aside from an ill-advised semi-soliloquy just before the big set-piece fight towards the end he's a man of few words, as befits his command of English at the time. Still, the future Governator was obviously hired for his rippling muscles and required to be more of a presence than an actor, and this is a role he fulfils admirably. And it's quite an achievement to display so much charisma, and to be the undisputed star of the film, while saying so little.

Of course, James Earl Jones is much, much more charismatic, and he does this entirely through actually acting. He has possibly the finest voice in all of cinema; Thulsa Doom is an utterly delicious baddie, but he has pretty much nothing at all in common with Darth Vader in his vocal stylings. He's pretty bad-ass, demanding that his underlings be prepared to face death and "emptiness" on his whim. Presumably this means that they sacrifice themselves for him without question, knowing that their deaths are pointless and they will be utterly forgotten, and in every expectation that there will be no afterlife. Chilling.

The film manages the wonderful feat of playing everything straight while slipping in a bit of metatextual silly subtext on the sly. Conan's crucifixion is such overblown and pretentious Christ symbolism that it can only be intentional. My eyebrow was also raised during the sex scene between Conan and the prophetess. As soon as she reaches orgasm she turns into a horrible screeching demon. Hmm. Perhaps just a slight hint of male fear of female sexuality there then. There are also lots of scenes of semi-naked women chained up and on public display, meaning that I couldn't help thinking about the male gaze and all that. But I think the scene where Conan, as a slave in his cage, is allowed to have sex with (well, rape) a female slave in his cage while others watch pretty much has to be taken as evidence that it's being done knowingly. It's still being done, of course. Doing things ironically doesn't actually stop things being misogynistic.

Oh yes, and then there's the scene with the semi-clad woman jumping into a pit to sacrifice herself to a snake, which one can't help noticing is a somewhat phallic creature. Do you reckon there might be a bit of symbolism there? Of course, the snake turns out to be dead. There might be a bit of symbolism there, too. No wonder Thulsa Doom is so humiliated and angry about this later on. And I can't help noticing that the only characters at whom he aims those snake-arrow things are female. What an amazing coincidence…

It's also rather noticeable that Conan's girlfriend, a rather major character, doesn't even have a name, in marked contrast to Subotai, whom I like a lot. A also like Akiro; he's such a fun character. I love the way he narrates the film and then appears halfway through, too. It's a very well-structured script, co-written, I notice, by none other than Oliver Stone.

I enjoyed this far more than I expected. It may not be very deep but it's solidly written, and a lot more fun than it might appear to be at first glance.

Return of the Jedi (1983)

“He’s more machine now than man- twisted and evil.”

I saw this at the pictures when it was originally on, you know. I was six. I went for a pee during the scenes in Jabba’s palace. Anyway…

A new, bigger Death Star is… les than entirely original. But at least it provides us with a suitable sense of threat. And the first few minutes gives as a real sense of the pomp and might of the Empire. We’re also made to anticipate meeting the mysterious Emperor himself.

Anyway… it’s nostalgic, but at the same time worrying, to see C-3PO and R2 D2 once again traipsing the hills of Tunisia… er, Tattoooine. Still, it’s not long before we get to the glorious monster mash that is Jabba’s palace. And Threepio’s reactions are perfect in honing our reactions to it. It’s clear that so much more effort has been put into this than the comparable scenes at Mos Eisley. The proof is in the vastly greater number of Kenner action figures that arose from this.

The tension is increased by the revelation that both Lando and Chewbacca have not been heard of since they disappeared within the environs of Jabba’s palace, although of course the impact of this is bathetically diminished by the fact that it comes from the highly-strung Threepio. Anthony Daniels’ performance at the point where the door opens is fantastic. In fact, I have to take this opportunity to praise his wonderfully camp yet perfectly pitched performance throughout the three films.

Incidentally, Bib Fortuna was the first action figure I owned. In 1983, he cost me £1.50. I never owned the Gammorean Guards, alas.

Threepio delivers a message from Luke Skywalker,  which is conciliatory while at the same time exuding a sense of threat which foreshadows the magnificent action sequences which await us. And yet… continuing my theme of droids=slavery, isn’t the sight of Luke (And yes, I’m aware it’s all part of the plan, but…) offering to swell these two droids, in whose personalities we, the audience, have invested so much, well, incredibly disturbing? I mean, there are pretty graphic scenes of droids being tortured here which would never be accepted if they were done to flesh-and-blood beings. I’m sot sure what sort of ‘ism that is, but it leaves a nasty taste in the mouth. The hero of the trilogy, more than anywhere else, is complicit in the worst excesses of slavery.

Anyway… a plucky bounty hunter, who delivers Jabba’s respect by delivering Chewbacca and earning his, er, respect, turns out to be Leia, and sneaks into Han Solo’s room to rescue him. This is rather tear-inducing, as she tells the blind and vulnerable Han that she loves him. I would do anything for a woman like that. There would be tongues.

There’s also a trap door, beneath which is a monster, the Rancor. So far, so Bond villain, although Jabba seems to be this galaxy’s Dinsdale Piranha.  Leia rescues Han, introducing herself as “someone who loves you”. Oh, if I was Han, my tongue would slowly flick for hours…

Luke’s attempted bargain, through his message from R2, is respectful yet essentially threatening. Actually, shall we just skip to the sail barge stuff? Except, we should point out that there’s implied sexual abuse of Leia (Threepio “can’t bear to watch”), by Jabba, who is of course a slug, both slimy and an absurdly massive phallic symbol. I suspect we can assume the worst here, and it’s clearly implied. Rather strong for a family film. I’m glad she strangles the bastard to death.

Anyway… Leia, appropriately, strangles Jabba .Luke survives the Rancor (which looks fantastic). He, Han, Leia and Chewbacca are sentenced to an agonising death by Sarlacc. Lots of Jabba’s pawns, and Boba Fett, suffer this horrible fate. All our heroes survive, under less-than-plausible circumstances- how, for instance, did Luke know that R2 , randomly appointed a waiter, would be in position to throw him his lightsabre? Signs of George Lucas scripting again …

Anyway, they all get away, and Luke makes a side trip to Dagobah. Yoda is dying, but Luke conveniently arrives just in time for Yoda to make an inspiring deathbed speech. It must be the Force. In spite of what we’ve been told, Luke will be a fully-fledged Jedi Knight as soon as he faces Vader. Hmm.

We have an interesting contrast, in alternated scenes, between the dying Yoda and the vigorous and powerful Emperor, played magnificently by Ian McDiarmid, who is clearly strong in the Dark Side of magic- er, the Force. Luke must face Vader, apparently, even though it was such a no-no last time and bugger all has happened since.

The rebels make some rather dull speeches. Apparently, Han hasn’t finalised his command crew for Endor (a “forest” moon, and again a world characterised by just one kind of terrain), purely for dramatic effect, again instructing us that George Lucas (oh dear) is co-scripting this. Oh dear. It’s all rather forced. Luke arrives at the most convenient moment possible. Plus, Luke and Vader sense each other on the hijacked shuttle’s approach. Yes, it’s a trap, of course, but these scenes have a very uncomfortable sense of character being sublimated to plot convenience.

Isn’t it odd that there are also many kinds of Imperial stormtroopers, for example forest scouts? It’s almost… heaven forbid… merchandise orientated. Still, it’s visually stimulating set piece, and oddly foreshadows a million computer games.

There’s an interesting cameo from Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan, trying to circumlocute himself around certain claims he made in Star Wars. But it’s now explicit that, not only is Vader Luke’s dad, but Leia is his sister. This means she’s fostered. Presumably, then, she’s not actually a princess.

The fast, exciting speeder bike stuff looks great: very well shot, and very movie serial. In fact, it foreshadows a million computer games. But… this is the point where we meet Wicket, our first Ewoks. They’re cute teddy bears, with even cuter babies. And yet, right, excuse me, for being pretentious and interpolating a postcolonial reading, but aren’t the Ewoks, Stone Age civilisation that they are, ripe for exploitation by the Rebel Alliance?

I think the plot wants us to forget this sort of stuff, though; Threepio is a god, they’re impressed by magic, and therefore they wish to help their new mates-cum-eventual-conquerors with a bit of asymmetrical warfare. Er, ok.

Oh, and aren’t these speeder bikes a bit blatantly dangerous for a place with lots of trees? Health and safety, that’s all I’m saying.

Anyway, it’s all a trap by the Emperor. A rather reckless one as he’s buggered in the end but, still, there is much tension between him and the Emperor.

C-3PO may be a god, but he has a “really bad feeling about this.” I think this is the point where the phrase becomes a dully-fledged Star Wars cliché. Still, his stories are well amusing.

The main focus is on the Death Star, where Luke has surrendered to confront his father. These scenes do rather drag somewhat; after McDiarmid and Jones, Hamill is the third best actor here, and actually, he’s not bad. His disfigurement really has buggered his career. Don’t drink and drive, kids.

So, Luke gets tempted, but ultimately convinces Darth to throw the Emperor down a conveniently placed shaft. Honestly, health and safety in the Empire is absolutely dreadful. We see Darth’s face as he dies,. It’s nice, but is one of those inevitable anti-climaxes.

We get a happy ending. The Emperor is dead. Er, what happens now? Are remnants of the  Empire still around? Even if that’s not so, who will fill the power vacuum, as the galaxy is no longer under a single, authoritarian, ruler? Luke? Might there be a bloody civil war, or several? It could get rather complicated, and I bet the Ewoks get colonially exploited whatewver happens. Nice to see the the ghosts, though…

The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

“I am your father.”

The opening titles are identical to this film’s predecessor until we get to the texty bit (And, yes, here we do indeed get an “Episode V”. I’m still not treating it as part of the film’s actual name, so nyaaah.). So much so, in fact, that the original cinemagoers much have wondered if the same film was being shown by mistake.

Said texty bit confirms that not much has happened during what must be only months since the end of Star Wars. The rebels are still in retreat, at this point on the “ice world” of Hoth. This is our first blatant example of the tendency of the Star Wars universe for worlds to be characterised by just one type of terrain. It isn’t possible, it seems, for, say, tundra and rainforest to exist on the same planet.

We begin with an exciting set-piece concerning Luke Skywalker being attacked by a monster, escaping, and being rescued from exposure by Han Solo, saving his life for the second tome. This is good, fun, movie serial style entertainment, of course, but it’s also a crucial moment for Han. After all, the previous film established him as something of an ambiguous figure, a semi-criminal, self-interested type, albeit one with charm and a conscience, but he only really earned our trust at the very end. Here, we get an early emphasis on his loyalty and heroism, which earns the character our trust. Also, it sets up the tempestuous proto-romance between him and Leia. How appropriate that she should be quite the ice maiden at this point. She has great hair, by the way. Again.

But the main point of this sequence sequence (apart from explaining away Mark Hamill’s disfigurement) is, of course, Luke’s vision. Here we see Obi-Wan as a ghost for the first time, and he’s telling Luke to go to Dagobah, wherever that is, and to get himself taught by Yoda, whoever that is. And yes, you’re right; it is a little absurd of me to have phrased that as though I hadn’t seen this film a million times.

The rebels know they’ve been found, and we get a long, exciting sequence as they all try and evacuate while Darth Vader and his underlings relentlessly pursue them. Vader is even cooler here, from the first shot of him, in which we see the back of his heads from behind as he gazers out at the stars. Later on we get a glimpse of the back of his head for real, underneath his helmet. He gets to kill two senior underlings for failure in amusing ways, and one of them is Mr Bronson himself, Michael Sheard. Darth just can’t get any cooler.

The whole sequence with the AT-ATs kicks arse, except for the fact that it reminds me I never one as a kid, although I did have the Millennium Falcon. But the ultimate result is Luke and Artoo heading for Dagobah, while Han, Leia and Threepio are just trying to get away from their Imperial pursuers without a working hyperdrive. At this point, they’re completely on the back foot, with the Empire seemingly just mopping up the remaining bits of resistance. Only Luke’s mission offers anything aside from this bleak narrative, and this stage Dagobah offers little obvious hope.

Luke is amazingly lucky, though: with a whole planet to choose from, he manages to crash land right next to Yoda’s house. What are the chances of that, eh? Presumably we can ascribe it to the Force, or to the great script god Irvin Kirchner, who is producing a notably witter script than Lucas did last time. Yoda’s fantastic. He may look like a Muppet, but that’s because he is. And I’d take this Yoda over some CGI crap anytime.

Things are hotting up between Han and Leia, as they have a bit of a snog until Threepio comes along and ruins it all. Speaking of Threepio and sexual stuff, I seem to recall Simon Pegg casually remarking in an interview that Threepio was gay. And he blatantly is, isn’t he? Although what the significance of this may be I have no idea. And what does this imply about his “relationship”, if we can use the word, with Artoo?

Meanwhile, Yoda is taking some persuading to take on Luke as a pupil. Luke is a dreamer, with his head in the clouds, apparently. Well, yes; that’s sort of his entire personality. The subtext here is that he’s going to have to give that up. The lessons begin, and Luke really doesn’t seem to learn very much.

The bit with the Millennium Falcon being inside the creature’s mouth is great, but they’re in trouble. Especially as Vader is sending bounty hunters after them. With the exception of Boba Fett they’re onscreen for no more than a few seconds but, naturally, this didn’t stop Kenner from making toys of them all. Bossk, Zuckuss and IG-88 are the ones I remember. Incidentally, what’s a droid doing as a bounty hunter? Are there “free” droids?

Han, Leia, Chewie and Threepio are off to a mining colony on Bespin to find an old acquaintance of his called Lando Calrissian. I think Bespin is supposed to be a gas giant, so keeping “Cloud City” going must be an incredible drain on apparently limited resources, as this is not exactly a habitable place. Still, best not to think about it too much.

We meet Lando, and he’s a con man, albeit a charming one. Come to think of it, he’s basically Han from the beginning of Star Wars, except that he’s successful. Success has given him responsibility, and responsibilities have given him dependants. This has consequences, as we’ll see. It looks ominous. It certainly does to Luke, who foresees bad things and rushes off against the advice of both Yoda and Obi-Wan. Yoda gets an interesting line, though: “There is another”.

Lando sells them out, of course. And it’s all a trap for Luke, of course. Vader has it all planned; indeed, we see him discussing this with no less a figure than the Emperor himself. He’s very much in control and throwing his weight around, changing the details of his agreement with Lando wherever he sees fit. Han is to be tortured, purely so as to bring Luke running after him, and then Fett is to take him onward to Jabba the Hutt.

There’s a massive set-piece swordfight between Luke and Vader, of course, in which Luke loses both the fight and his right hand, and gets a certain devastating revelation. And Lando helps Leia, Chewie and the droids to escape. But this is no happy ending, and the stirring musical coda leaves us in no doubt that this is to be continued…

Star Wars (1977)

“You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”

I’ve seen this film so, so many times, but not since 1997, when I saw the restored version at the cinema. And that event is a bit of a watershed, isn’t it? Before then, George Lucas was widely regarded as a genius whereas nowadays he… isn’t. A case in point: I saw this on Disc Two of the DVD, as an extra. It hadn’t been cleaned up and the sound was awful. There’s no denying it, though- it really is as good as we all remember.

The thing about Star Wars (or, to give its full and official title, Star Wars) is that, for all that it famously revolutionised what would be expected of sci-fi special effects, it doesn’t actually look very flashy, Kurosawa-style directorial touches aside. It looks thoroughly convincing, yes, but the parade of monsters in Mos Eisley, for example, isn’t anything like as much of a spectacle as the scenes in Jabba’s palace from Return of the Jedi. None of this does any harm, though; the effects are all the stronger for trying to convince rather than to amaze.

It’s also notable that, much as Alien gets the credit for creating the trope of the dirty, lived-in, space opera environment, there’s an element of that here, too. But none of that takes away from the real, deliberate, fairytale quality, or to the clearly intended nods to the movie serials of many decades earlier. The opening text is an example of both, I think.

For the first time, we open on a bit of spaceship porn, as per all of these movies. The opening blurb handily allows us to start halfway through the story, as Princess Leia’s shop is attacked by Imperial troops desperate to retrieve the McGuffin she has in her possession. Interestingly, though, we see most of this through the, er, eyes of two “’droids”, C-3PO and R2-D2. Being low status characters, these two can instantly play a role in the narrative familiar from, again, Kurosawa, but also stretching way back through the history of the “comedy peasant” trope. It helps that they’re both so endearing, and Artoo is so cute. Their rapport is wonderful, which is critical, as they are more-or-less the heart of the first half-hour of the film.

So, our two droids are dispatched to Tattooine on a secret mission, pursued by the troops of the fantastic Darth Vader. Darth must be the most brilliant looking baddie ever, and James Earl Jones has the perfect voice for him. Here they’re both captured by Jawas, and this leads to something about the Star Wars films that has always troubled me. Because Threepio and Artoo are portrayed as sentient beings with personalities and feelings, yet they are the “property” of others, slaves in fact. Indeed, we see Luke Skywalker, the hero of the trilogy, buying them both from these slave traders along with his Uncle Owen. If the hero is allowed to do this, does this mean the film is ok with slavery?  There’s certainly no indication of any characters having any ethical qualms.

Luke is established as young, in his teens, suffering a rather humdrum home life on a farm, and being denied his rather more glamorous destiny by his boring old uncle. It’s not hard to see why a large portion of the audience would identify with this. Sure enough, Luke is soon introduced to a bigger and more exciting world by hermit Obi-Wan Kenobi, one for which he was destined. Much of the film’s audience must have been hoping for a similar fate. It’s no accident that fairytales are full of narratives like this.

Obi-Wan tells us that he’s a Jedi Knight, he fought in the “Clone Wars”, and that he’s a friend of Luke’s late father, also a Jedi Knight. The Jedi Knights were, apparently, great heroes in the “Old Republic”, before the coming of the empire, after which they were hunted down by Darth Vader, a Jedi turned bad. We’re told explicitly that Vader killed Luke’s father. This is fairytale stuff and, interestingly, in its political elements is clearly inspired by the Roman Republic and its slide into empire.

The Jedi are basically good wizards, like Gandalf and his mates, and the Force is simply magic. For all its sci-fi trappings, this is unmistakably a work of fairytale fantasy.

Luke’s uncle and aunt are conveniently killed by Imperial Stormtroopers, which handily allows him to accompany Obi-Wan on his mission to Alderaan. But first they need a pilot, and this brings them to Mos Eisley. Here we meet smuggler Han Solo (who definitely shoots Greedo first), who agrees to take four passengers to Alderaan for oodles of cash, mainly because he owes several more oodles of cash to someone called Jabba the Hutt.

I have to pause here to praise Alec Guinness. George Lucas doesn’t, as Harrison Ford has famously said, write the best dialogue, and Obi-Wan gets some of the worst lines, many of which look cringe-inducingly bad on paper: see the quote up there at the top. And yet Guinness makes even these lines seem acceptable. That’s bloody good acting.

Incidentally, I adore the interaction between Han and Obi-wan when Luke is being trained in the ways of the Force, blinded. Obi-Wan is a character who belongs in a fantasy film, as shown most blatantly in his comments about a lightsabre being better than a blaster. Han, on the other hand, is a character who belongs in a sci-fi film, and so of course he is sceptical about magic and can see that a sword, even a fancy one made of light, is obviously no good against a blaster! This is fantastic metatextual fin, winking at the audience and alerting us to the clash of genres through their respective spokesmen.

Interesting, is it not, that the Millennium Falcon has a navigation computer which takes ages to make the calculations needed before they can “jump to lightspeed”? This may be a world of magic powers and casual interstellar travel, but their state-of-the-art computers are well behind my iPhone.

I seem to be reviewing a lot of films with Peter Cushing in, and here he is again as the Grand Moff Tarkin, and deliciously evil he is too. It’s he who informs us that the Imperial Senate has been dissolved by the emperor, and that the Empire is now to become a fully-fledged totalitarian state. It’s also he who sentences Leia to death, and who cruelly vaporises her home planet of Alderaan even after she’s told him the location of the rebel base. The dastardly swine. Good job she lied.

Our heroes are drawn to the Death Star by its tractor beam, like flies to a web, and we now get to the most fun bit of the film, as our heroes set out to disable the tractor beam and rescue Leia. Carrie Fisher is great as the princess, subverting all the stereotype of the passive damsel in distress by kicking whatever ass she ever happens to come across. These sequences are also crucial in that we get to know and like Han Solo, who is established as cynical, but also funny, brave and with a heart of gold underneath. This is still very movie serial, of course; the bit in the garbage compactor is the most movie serial thing ever. That is, until we get to Luke, Leia and the missing bridge…

Our heroes escape, but not without an exciting dogfight, and not before Obi-Wan, mysteriously and calmly, simply stops fighting and allows himself to be slain by Vader. But their ship has a tracer hidden aboard, and the crew of the Death Star now know the location of the rebel base. Fortunately, though, the plans to the Death Star just happen to rather conveniently reveal a massive and rather implausible weakness. Can the rebels destroy the Death Star before it destroys them?

Luke volunteers to take part in the assault, and seems to be given a rather senior role for someone who’s only been in the Rebel Alliance for five minutes. We know the goodies are going to win, of course; Tarkin tempts fate by refusing an evacuation, and Vader, who we know isn’t going to die, leaves the Death Star to fight Luke in a ship of his own. But the rebels have an uphill struggle, and can’t count on any help from Han, who has buggered off with his money.

Of course, it’s all right in the end, as Han makes a heroic return and Luke uses the force to destroy the Death Star. Our fairytale has a fairytale ending, but the story has only just begun…