Tag Archives: Star Wars

Star Wars: The Motivation Problem

Culture, Writing, , , ,

This post contains SPOILERS for Star Wars: The Acolyte

If you’ve listened to “Landbound“, the Doctor Who Short Trip I wrote for Big Finish, you’ll know that it begins with the Third Doctor driving off in a temper from Unit HQ until he finds himself at the seaside in Whitby. In my first draft, the Doctor was simply having a bad day and was fed up with the Brigadier and his rules and regulations. Ian Atkins, my editor, suggested making the reason for the Doctor’s anger clearer by setting the opening right after the TV episode, “The Silurians.”

The Silurians, an intelligent, lizard-like race, ruled the world before humans came along. They’ve since been in hibernation. In the episode, they awake and wish to resume their place on the Earth’s surface. The Doctor tries to achieve a peaceful solution only to have his efforts undermined by the Brigadier, who seals them underground and likely kills them all in the process. The Doctor, of course, is furious.

With that change, the reason for the Doctor’s anger in “Landbound” begins becomes much clearer. And clear motivation, I’ve learned, is key to good storytelling.

Which brings us to Star Wars: The Acolyte, the latest Star Wars series from Disney, in which very few character motivations are clear. For instance, the Jedi are shocked — shocked! — that the Witches of Brendok are raising two children. I wonder where they thought big witches came from if not little witches. Are the witches inherently evil? Or just different. Or does different equate to evil? Do witches roam the galaxy, turning people into newts? Why is it so very important to the Jedi to remove these children from the witches? Particularly since these not-so-old children are apparently too old to train.

What motivates Torbin, the Jedi who instigated the awful events on Brendok? Why is he so whiny? Why does he want so badly to return to Coruscant? Why does he wear his heart on his sleeve when the mission of the Jedi seems to be to drum emotion out of their students (more on that in my next post)? Why does he wantonly disregard his master? Is he campaigning for Worst Padawan Ever?

There’s a tracker in the show, a diminutive creature with a great sense of smell. He’s not just a dog on two legs, though. He’s quite handy with technology as it turns out, and effectively caused Sol’s ship to crash-land. What’s his story? How does he communicate with people? Why does he do what he does?

In the final episode, Osha and “the Stranger” leave but apparently they simply must leave Mae behind. Why is that? Is the ship not big enough for three? Is it that a Sith can only have one apprentice at a time? Enquiring minds want to know, and it wouldn’t have taken long to explain.

There are other questions, of course, but I won’t list them all. Except to question Jedi Master Vernestra Rwoh, and her desire to hide what’s going on in Acolyte from the Jedi Council.

There are a lot of screen writers out there and by all accounts it’s nearly impossible to get a treatment to the point of actual production. Studios, it seems, have the luxury of selecting from the best of the best. Given that, I’ll end with a final question: why would Disney accept a script in which reasonably clear motivation is so lacking?

Why the Force is With Us

Culture, , ,

When Star Wars burst onto the scene in 1977, no one had seen the like. It reminded me of an old Errol Flynn movie, but with special effects that blew past the bar set by 2001: A Space Odyssey nearly a decade earlier.

There was the princess who’d been captured by an evil sorcerer; the young hero whose destiny lies beyond the farm on which he’s been raised; the wise old wizard; and there was the rogue, the mercenary, who, beneath the crusty exterior, was deeply human.

This is all fundamental stuff, elements as old as stories themselves. And yet the movie seemed breathtakingly fresh. Star Wars was all anyone talked about that summer. Then came The Empire Strikes Back in 1980 and Return of the Jedi in 1983, and we breathed a sigh of contentment. It was over, and it was brilliant. But along with contentment we felt regret that it was all over.

falconTime passes. Thirty plus years. And now we have two teaser trailers for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. In the first, we see some people we don’t know, some X-wings, a cloaked figure who is presumably a Sith lord, and then, there it is: the Millenium Falcon, looking as if it’s just burst from its cage, reveling in its freedom as it twists and turns in the air, only to level off to face incoming TIE fighters. Was there anyone not at least a little misty-eyed at the sight of the Falcon?

The second teaser ups its game. There’s the awesome shot of the Star Destroyer, crashed in the desert, then Luke Skywalker’s voice-over. People are starting to get excited. Then we have more action shots, and finally, there they are, Han Solo and Chewbacca. Commence total freak out.

But why did the trailers have this effect on us? What makes Star Wars so good? Why do we care?

To answer that question, it helps to look at The Phantom Menace, painful as that might be. In particular, it’s well worth looking at the series of seven YouTube videos in which RedLetterMedia deconstructs that movie. It does so while making you alternately laugh out loud and cringe with horror, as a LucasFilm employee seemingly did at an early screening of the movie. The most telling part, and it’s been a while so I’ll try to get this right, was while interviewing Star Wars fans about the original series characters. They were able to describe Han Solo etc. and ascribe to each a unique personality. They were then asked to describe Qui-Gon Jinn. The interviewer was met with a blank face. Upon being reminded that he was Obi-Wan’s mentor there was an “Oh”. And they were stuck. They couldn’t say a thing about him. “Stoic” said one.

The reason we love Star Wars is that we love the characters. We know who they are and we care about what happens to them. What does happen to them is on one hand a simple adventure, but on the other a multi-level story of good versus evil, the capacity for both within us, and in the end, the possibility of redemption and forgiveness even if you have fallen to the dark side.

And let’s not forget one of the most beloved characters of the series: the Millenium Falcon, the flawed and faltering ship (“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” Leia asked. “It might,” said Han.) that nonetheless digs deep and always brings our heroes home. The Falcon has a most definite personality, and we rooted for her as much as for Han, Leia and Luke.

In another blog, while reviewing the rebooted Star Trek, I reported that it was like seeing an old friend you thought you’d never see again. After early showings of Trek, people were reportedly weeping as they left the theatre. They were tears of joy. Watching the Star Wars trailers had a similar effect, because honestly, most of us thought we’d never see these characters again. Now we can see them and hear their voices, and suddenly the world seems a brighter place. We walk around with smiles on our faces. And in this world where darkness seems to creep closer to us every day, something, even a movie trailer, that casts a warm ray of light is most welcome.