:eek:
I haven’t seen it, but just reading that makes me cringe!
Re: Pristine vs Beat-Up -
In the prequels, keep in mind that the majority of the characters are “aristocracy” - Queens, government officials, Jedi bigwigs, etc., and that much of the action is taking place in and around government facilities. Naturally, these places are going to be in good shape, and the associated equipment is going to be modern and top-quality.
In the original trilogy, the primary characters were the rebels, who were forced to work with what they could scavenge/steal. The Empire was reserving all of the best materials for itself. Princess Leia’s ship at the beginning of A New Hope was a pretty nice ship (a Corellian Corvette, I believe), but at that point in the story the Republic Senate was still functioning, if only in name (the Emperor had not yet abolished it). So with Leia being the daughter of a prominent Senator, she naturally had access to quality gear. But once she was forced into hiding with the Rebels, she too had to make do with whatever equipment could be acquired.
Naboo is apparently a peaceful planet, and its military seems to be no more than a simple planetary defense force. The fighter ships likely have no hyperspace (almost said “warp”) capability, the same way Imperial TIE-fighters lack that ability. The Naboo ships, in fact, were likely to be mostly for show - hence the shiny chrome appearance. X-Wing fighters, on the other hand, were a sturdier ship. The X-Wing was designed for durability and hyperspace travel. The general consensus is that, in one-on-one combat, an X-Wing will defeat a TIE every time. (The TIE is intended for overwhelming a target with sheer numbers, rather than single combat, and so is cheaper and more fragile. The Empire considers pilots to be more expendable than does the Rebellion.) So I would say that an X-Wing is superior to a Naboo fighter ship - it just doesn’t look as pretty, thanks in large part to inadequate servicing facilities.
On another topic, I agree with the idea of too much expectation being built up for the prequels. I was eleven years old in 1977 when I saw the first movie, and seeing that movie had a profound impact on me that lasted for years. While I’ve enjoyed both prequels, neither had the same effect on me that the first movie had.
I find your question surprising.
Narrative filmmaking is based on one or both of these truisms:
(a) The audience must care about the characters, and be interested in what the characters are doing.
(b) The audience must put themselves in the role of one or more of the characters.
Do you mean to say that you, when viewing a movie or TV show or whatever… never put yourself in the role of one or more of the characters?
You never think or fantasize that that could be YOU doing these grand and wonderful things? Man, from what I’ve seen, nearly all porn is based on this simple mental construct: that’s YOU up there, boinking away. This may account for porn’s general unpopularity among women, too – how many women fantasize about sex without foreplay with Ron Jeremy?
Other types of film are more complex, relying on the audience’s interest in the plot, the story, and suchlike, instead of raw animal urges, but MOST narrative entertainments are geared in such a way as to invite the viewer to join the cast… or shoehorn him in there, whether he wants to go or not. Nearly all good horror movies, for example, are about the latter.
You NEVER imagine yourself up there on the screen?
Never?
I cannot imagine having so little imagination in my head. How do you LIVE?
Or do you simply… exist?
Master Wang-Ka, Han Solo’s vibe is the same as that of another famous Ford character: Indiana Jones. Both characters are heroic for the same reasons: they’re always in just over their heads. They are never completely in command of a situation, or completely at ease; just as they have a moment to rest, something else has gone wrong. Each is slightly outclassed by his opponents, and yet still finds a way to win.
They both present the one-man-versus-an-army dilemma, also. Their enemies are numerous and well-equipped, though disorganized; they succeed through luck and guile and bravado and wits and sheer cojones. And they manage to save a few quips for the audience.
The first movies lacked this element entirely. Nobody was ever, ever, ever in the same situation and handled it the same way. Anakin blew up the droid control center by blundering into the hangar, pushing the wrong buttons, and escaping out of the sheer incompetence of the enemies. Jar-Jar accidentally destroyed some droids, but ultimately their defeat had nothing at all to do with Gungan bravery or force of arms or tactics. Where was the bloody suspense? Whose face was the cipher on which we could read our own dread, our own uncertanties? There was none—characters were querelous and uncertain when we, the audience, knew we couldn’t lose (like Jar-Jar not wanting to watch the pod race) and they were certain and confident when we didn’t know who would win (like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan fighting Maul at the end).
Yeah. When I watched the first one my nine year old body was all aquiver, waiting for my next little dose of heroism and FX like I’d never seen before. My seven year old brother was sitting in the seat next to me, and felt the same way. When we got home we beat the crap out of each other with a pair of flashlights. Twenty-four years later I still want that feeling. I know I’m not going to get it.
Which is mostly why I never watched AOTC.
Batman and Han Solo are not the same character for obvious reasons. I’ll expand that point further for those of you who don’t find Master Wang-Ka’s point sufficient upon request.
Geez, we could be up all night if you wanna talk types of hero.
HARD LUCK HERO: his victories are meaningful because they’re occasional, and uncertain. He wins, but he works hard for it, and he’s often in deeper than he wants to be – but he goes in anyway, for love of dame, for the just cause, for the money, or for love of the game. Han Solo’s a hard luck hero, and Humphrey Bogart made a living playing them.
SLICK HERO: super cool, supercompetent, irresistable to the opposite sex, and has all the resources he needs at any given time. James Bond epitomizes the Slick Hero, as does The Fonz.
SUPER HERO: by definition, a hero who can perform superhuman tasks, or defeat superhuman/supernatural menaces.
MORAL HERO: does what he does, because it’s the Right Thing To Do; usually tough and two-fisted, but not always. Usually uncomfortable around women, for some reason. Ultimate example here would be Captain America or Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy; Superman would be a Moral Hero, superimposed on the Super Hero, with a hint of Slick Hero (since he always pretty much had the solution to whatever problem assailed him).
BROODING HERO: an offshoot of the Hard Luck hero, largely because Brooding Heroes never find anything easy. Dark, obsessive, and by nature more violent than most other breeds of hero, Brooding Heroes generally carry a dark secret in their past that they tend to obsess on… but which also gives them strength to carry on the good fight. Batman’s a Brooding Hero, superimposed on the Slick Hero; Clint Eastwood built his career on Brooding Heroes.
I’m tired, and I KNOW I’m missing some. Feel free to add on, folks.
That was an incredible feeling, and I also mourn its passing.
The funny thing, I remember my Dad and I looking at the paper, trying to find a movie to go see. I was 8 years old or so, and I wanted to see some damn ‘Benji’ movie. My Dad overruled me, and we saw Star Wars.
Thank God. It’s unimaginable to me that at any age I would have preferred to see a lost doggie movie over any science fiction flick, but I guess I can’t deny it.
And goddamn, did Star Wars blow me away, like I guess it most folks at the time. It sparked my life-long interest in science fiction, which persists to this day.
Right. ONE of those truisms is the first one. I care about the characters and I’m interested in what they’re doing. I never put myself in the role of the character.
Right. I think I’d be good at humping that girl. I don’t think I’d like to be Ron Jeremy. Maybe you and I actually have the same feeling, but we just vocalize it two different ways (though, probably not).
This last bit is silly. . .
First, to imply it actually takes some amount of imagination to pretend you’re Han Solo, diving into trash bins, killing women with your wit, and killing bad guys with lasers.
Second, to ask “how do you LIVE” when you’re the one who is wishing/pretending/wanting to be something other than who you are.
I’m entertained by “The Dude”. That doesn’t mean I want to be him, and if I did, I would.
I don’t know if you have that short-circuit like some sci-fi folks I know have, but there’s a big disconnect for some of them. All right, so you wanna be Han Solo. Well, guess what: if Han Solo were around today, he might go to a movie, but he wouldn’t DRESS UP like one of the characters. He sure as shit wouldn’t go to the bi-mon-sci-fi-con. Be Han Solo. Don’t wanna-be Han Solo.
I AM Han Solo. Fuckin’ right I shot first. 
To return to the economic deline hypothesis for a moment:
I took the Cloud City to be the exception that proves the rule. It was pretty solidly established that it was an exceptional source of wealth, and I found the fact that it was more or less confiscated by the Empire to be telling. I also assumed that the Mon Calamari (heh, best enjoyed with a dry red wine) formed the backbone of the rebel fleet simply because they weren’t economically exhausted to the same extent as everybody else. Even the Imperial warships didn’t exactly bespeak prosperity. Sure, everything was functional, but there weren’t any extras. The “fit and finish” just wasn’t there. It looked a lot like a space-going Soviet navy.
Tatooine was a dump in TPM, true. It just struck me as a much more prosperous dump than in ANH.
Maybe I’m trying to hard to see something that isn’t there.