Lucas and Star Wars Prequels

Wow, I'm actually back and blogging - long time, no see. Nothing dramatic there, just have recently lost my mind in some programming problems, and I'm finally able to lift my head up again. And of course, I am now inspired by the new Star Wars movie, open today! The seven-year-old in me rejoices!

But it leads me to ponder a question that I've wondered for quite a while; namely, why does the three recent prequels PALE in comparison to the original three Star Wars Films. While the reasons are debatable, I don't think there's much disagreement with the basic premise - that the first three films are by far superior to the subsequent prequels. And this is despite the obvious superior technical sophistication in terms of special effects technology. Now I've had some pet theories for a few years, but yesterday I heard a great report from NPR asking many of the same questions. So I thought it would be instructive to list and flippantly examine the possible reasons for this qualitative discrepancy:

Too much freedom is NOT good for you - this is the top reason I've explored for the past several years, that paradoxically having too much freedom can be injurious to the creative mind. In my alter-ego-life as a graphic designer, this is completely true; the hardest client to design for is the one who says, "Anything goes!" I mean, where do you start? What are they looking for? I have also found this true in my private artwork - when I have the ability to do anything, I often do nothing. But if I have an idea and some sense of limits (size limits, media limits, whatever), then I have boundaries to push against, to explore, to give me focus. And I believe you can see this in other filmmakers, with Steven Spielberg being one of my examples. I believe that Jaws, one of his earliest movies, still is one of his strongest and most successful. And I think part of the freshness of the film lies in the inordinate filming methods used in the film: aspects such as refraining from showing the shark in full until late in the film, the authentic quality of the characters in the film, and the inherent tensions between the main three "shark-hunters." And much of those qualities can be attributed not only to the genius of Spielberg, but also to the difficulties of the film shoot (malfunctioning shark, need to use local residents as secondary characters and extras, the extra attention paid to the script and acting by cast and crew through the inadvertent delays in shooting). Now, consider George Lucas, a multimedia mogul who nearly single-handedly redefined Hollywood business, filmmaking techniques, and cinema in general. In contrast to the making of the first three Star Wars films (where he had budgetary issues, conflicts with writers' and directors' guilds, control-obsessed studios, and a stress-induced heart attack), what obstacles has he faced in the prequels? He surrounds himself with the very best people in the business, inventive and creative individuals who can invent the methods to satisfy Lucas' every whim. This is not to say that he simply has "yes" men surrounding him, but rather people who have the ability to create every "not possible" answer into "yes, we can do that." So now Lucas has a level of technical freedom unheard of in prior film projects. With such money and ability behind him, do you think anyone has told him "no?" I don't, and I believe the film suffers from it. With difficulties come creative adjustments and problem-solving, which leads the creator to look at his/her creation anew and often gives the opportunity for improvement.
1. Lucas is disconnected from the act of making films - this is a theory presented on the aforementioned NPR report, and I have to say it's pretty interesting. It goes like this - in the time between the completion of Star Wars (1977) and the beginning of The Phantom Menace (1993-ish?), George Lucas didn't direct films. He produced, he built companies, he wrote and co-wrote, and he oversaw. But direct? Not so much. The Empire Strikes Back, considered by many to be the best of the bunch, was directed by a former USC film professor of Lucas', and Return of the Jedi was directed by an experimental European. So, NPR theorized, he's rusty. He's out of touch with how to direct. He's not grown as a director. Not a bad theory, especially if you believe that the prequel films have slowly improved as they were made (all indications are that the new film is the best of the lot). So of course the prequels aren't as good as his early films - he's having to relearn his craft.
2. Lucas can't write himself out of a paper bag - this is another theory I like. Lucas describes himself as a visual filmmaker, of making films like visual tone poems or visual musical scores. Not once have I heard him described, by himself or by others, as a master wordsmith. Yes, he can tell great stories, epic space soap-operas based on core mythological or sociological themes. But can he write interesting and insightful dialogue between two characters. Not really. Many of the actors of the original series comment on this - that Lucas' dialogue looks great on paper but can be entirely unreadable as lines. Currently I'm reading the novelizations of the books, all based upon Lucas' original scripts, and I'm currently amazed how many of the best lines of the film aren't in the book. Instead, I suspect, many of them came from the interaction of cast and crew while filming, especially in the case of Harrison Ford. Instead of struggling with the overwrought original text, Ford simply substituted better ones that stayed both with the character and the overall story. You love his one-liners? He knows...
3. The original cast was lightning in a bottle - Lucas has insisted, in both the original trilogy and the subsequent prequels, on trying to cast young, fresh, or rather unknown stars in lead roles. Carrie Fisher was a young, up-and-comer from an established show biz family, Mark Hammill a young, fresh face, and Harrison Ford a second-tier actor who's last big role was for Lucas himself. Likewise, Natalie Portman was a young actress with one acclaimed film under her belt, Hayden Christensen another young actor with experience only on television, and Ewan McGregor a new, hot commodity with only a handful of films under his belt. Around them he'll put one or two accomplished actors (such as Sir Alec Guinness, Samuel L. Jackson, and Christopher Lee) that gives the performances weight or gravitas. Now, the problem is that the trio of Fisher, Hammill, and Ford greatly outstrips that of Portman, Christensen, and McGregor. Not to say that the acting of any of the prequel trio is inferior; in fact, I feel that each and every one of them has proven the equal or superior to the acting of the original trio, especially based on the performances in other films. But the original trio had camaraderie, a simpatico that turns the first three movies into an entertaining, fun frolic. And despite the single-handed efforts of Ewan McGregor in channeling the presence of Sir Alec Guinness, the prequel trio just don't have the chemistry of the original three. And it shows in the product.
4. Lucas simply told the fun story first - admit it, which would you rather see: the bureaucratic self-destruction of a quasi-Roman empire, or the band of plucky rebels sticking it "to the man"? No contest, in my opinion. Lucas told the fun, light, and sometimes humors story first - that of compelling individuals fighting against a corrupt system. It's an uplifting story we all want to see. So what was he left with? The depressing story of how everything got screwed up in the first place. How a democracy became a dictatorship. How a talented youth is corrupted into a unimaginable oppressor. The original trilogy has good guys beating bad guys; the prequels have good guys becoming bad guys. Which story do you want to see? Furthermore, Lucas has previously described the original three movies as stories without exposition - the idea was to make films like old Sunday serials, where you just assume everyone understands the context and jump right into the action. Unfortunately, the first two of the prequels are almost entirely "background," describing how the universe in the original trilogy comes about. It's like four hours of exposition, periodically intercut with entertaining sword fights. And while the sword fights are great, they're not enough to make us forget that we're watching a galactic civics lesson.

Now I suspect their will be a plethora of other theories which will appear in the coming years - now that the film series is complete, the pounds of graduate school papers can begin. And the truth of it is that despite all this, the criticism and the hype, I'll see the movies. I'll get them all on DVD and watch them over and over. Not because I'm a geek, but rather because I DO want to be a seven-year-old again, lost in the captivating universe Mr. Lucas has created. They may not be Oscar-winning exposes, but they are cinematic and cultural watersheds that we, as a society, will return to again and again for decades to come. So go get in line with the Stormtroopers and enjoy!