Star Wars: A Discussion (Episode II)

Star Wars fans of my generation (and older) tend to have an inordinate dislike of the prequels. I blame the fans. "But how can it be their fault for not liking the movies?" you might ask. "Isn't it Lucas' fault for not making something that the fans would like?" Well, no, it's not Lucas' fault. It's the fault of fans for, basically, assuming ownership of something that doesn't belong to them. Unwarranted expectations will get you every time.

I want to go back to something I said in my last post, that thing about how I never quit on Star Wars. I think this is a significant point. See, I was there when Zahn's books came out, so to speak. I bought them in hardback. Because I was into comic books, I have first printings of the Dark Empire series from Dark Horse. For a while, I was reading all of the Star Wars novels for no other reason than that they were Star Wars, and I think reading them taught me a lesson.

See, some of them... well, some of them sucked. And sucked hard. In fact, I'll just say it: Kevin Anderson's Jedi Academy trilogy was so awful that not only will I never read anything else by Anderson, but they broke me from reading anymore Star Wars novels. The lesson was not that some things that "are" Star Wars won't be good; it was about expectations. I somehow expected that these things would be great just because they were set in  the Star Wars universe. Well, I didn't really expect that, not in my head, but on some emotional level that is what I expected.

Of course, what I wanted was to be taken back to that feeling I had when I was seven when that star destroyer first "passed over my head" and made me see the world in a way I had never seen it before. But you can't have that feeling again. You can't go back to seven and experience that thing in that same way ever again. You can't have your eyes opened for the first time more than once. That can be a hard thing to learn, but Kevin Anderson beat it into me with his horrid books.

So it was that when Lucas announced the prequels I determined to have no expectations. Or as little as possible, at any rate. I knew these weren't going to be the same movies. I knew the time period they were going to be set in, and I knew what they were about. My goal was twofold: to avoid finding out stuff about the movie beforehand (because I had known absolutely nothing about Star Wars when I was seven and my grandmother took me to see it) and to not have expectations. I already knew where expectations would get me.

Which is not to say that I was not excited. I was right there with everyone else camping out for tickets for the opening midnight show of The Phantom Menace and camping again to get in so as not to have to sit in the front corner of the theater.

Also, I was in no way disappointed with The Phantom Menace. Not even with Jar Jar. He's funny. He makes me laugh. And my kids like him.

I want to make a point here: I was seven when I first saw Star Wars. I was a kid. I'm not saying that I loved Star Wars because I was a kid, but, essentially, Star Wars was a movie for young people, not for adults. There were toys because the target audience was kids. When I went into Phantom Menace, I wanted to go in with as much of that as possible. I wanted to see it with eyes that were fresh and young and with no preconceptions. Part of that was looking at it through the lens of my kids. Well, just one kid, at the time, but each of my kids has loved Jar Jar as they have come into contact with him. Lucas said Jar Jar was a character in the movie specifically for kids, and, from that standpoint, he totally works. So, really, the problem with the Jar Jar-haters is not actually Jar Jar, it's the people who hate him. And, you know what, it shows your age and your unwillingness to be a kid again, as you were when you first saw Star Wars.

And that takes me back to my opening statement: the problem with the prequels is "the fans," the original fans.
It's the truth, and you should just get over yourselves. You don't own Star Wars and Lucas doesn't owe you anything. Didn't owe you anything.
And, actually, you, all of you, should be ashamed of yourselves, because it's because of you that Lucas sold Star Wars to Disney.
/end rant

Yes, I like the prequels. Love them, even. Sure, in my list of Star Wars movies, they are not my favorite, but one of them does come in at #3, and they are Star Wars, so even the one at #6 is way ahead of most every other movie out there.

That being said, there is one problem I have with the prequels: the death of Padme during childbirth. The problem is, as it worked out, that kind of had to be the way that happened but it doesn't fit the previous narrative of Leia having gone with her mother when the twins were split up at birth, and it doesn't fit with Leia's memories of her mother from when she was a young child. So, see, despite the fact that I can see that it Padme's death is necessary from a story perspective, it doesn't work for me because of my own expectation that she should have taken Leia away and raised her in hiding for several years before her death.

But that's it. That one thing is the only issue I have with the prequels.

I don't want to get into anything about how I feel about The Force Awakens, right now, but, regardless of that, I wish that Lucas was the one making them. Just as I wanted to see his story for the prequels, I wanted to see his story for the sequel trilogy, too. As it turns out, despite what Disney said they would do (which was to follow Lucas' original story), according to Lucas, they have strayed from that, and that disappoints me.

But more on that later.

Unexpected Applause: "My Killbot Buddy"

I've made no secret of my general dislike of "starting in the middle of the action" as a way to begin stories. Usually, "starting in the middle of the action" is just a cover for a weak beginning (at least "weak" in the eyes of some TV producer (because it's TV where we find this most often used)) and, after starting as near to the climax as possible, we get the inevitable "48 hours earlier." I just hate that. Seriously. Ask my wife. Any show that uses that tactic as a regular opener holds no real credibility for me. [Only very occasionally does this work for me, like that episode of Firefly that opens with Mal naked and stranded. However, if you're about to show me your characters handcuffed to pipe in a room filling with water for the 7th time this season, please, just don't.]

There are ways of starting a story in media res that do work. For instance, A New Hope opens with a prologue scene of of the battle above Tatooine in which Leia is captured and the droids escape to the planet. The actual exposition of the story does not begin until we switch to the introduction of Luke. That kind of thing works. It gives us background while immediately hooking us. Imagine that story starting in the trash compactor, though, and, then, flashing back to the events leading up to that. That would be horrible. Harry Potter opens the same way, by the way, with a prologue of the baby being taken to the Dursleys; the exposition begins when we switch to about to have a birthday Harry. [I think I read somewhere that Rowling actually wrote that first bit as a prologue, but the publisher made her shift it to "chapter one."]

Another way to start a story in the middle of the action is to open with a character who doesn't know what's going on. For whatever reason. Part of the point of these types of stories is to go along with the character and figure out what's happening and why. Rusty Carl does a pretty great job of that in "My Killbot Buddy."

[And, man, that's one killer (no pun intended) cover Rusty whipped up. I think it's my favorite piece by him yet.] Not only does the protagonist wake up with no memory (for very good reason (which, yes, is important (because I hate the whole "oh, let's have our character have amnesia" thing))), but he wakes up as... old. He doesn't remember getting old, and, man, what a shock that would be. Oh, and, yeah, he's the most hated man in the world. How the heck did that happen?

And that's what we have to find out, what our character is trying to figure out. It's an interesting discovery and the story is wide open at the end. Which is not to say that the story doesn't end, because it does. But it ends in the way you would enter an airlock: one door shuts and another one opens. We're in the airlock with this story, so, when the other door opens, you can see that there is a whole world to be explored out there, but Carl doesn't take us through. What lies through that door is only what we can see with our minds.

But I do hope that he comes back to this and gives us more than a peek as to what's on the other side of that door.

This is a good strong "A" of a story, possibly my favorite by Carl, thus far. It has robots. Which is not why, but... well, it has robots.

Han Shot First, But...

As I've been mentioning from time to time, Briane Pagel over at The Best of Everything has been hosting this massive 100 day Star Wars trivia contest. Being Briane, though, he can't be satisfied with just having a massive 100 day trivia contest, he has to make it even more complex than that. Part of that has been writing challenges. Today is the due date for the 3rd writing challenge of the series, and I am dutifully posting mine. I'm not going to give any details about what was required for the contest so as not to give anything away in case you don't know about it. If you want to get in on it, though, you probably can. As long as you can get it posted today. Posting a story is worth 100 points in the trivia contest, and the writer of the best story (as deemed by Briane) will win a $10.00 Amazon gist card, so it's hardly a no-win situation. Especially with only, like, three entries at the moment (to my knowledge). Anyway... Here's mine:

The Other Bounty Hunter of Ord Mantell

“How we doin'?” Han yelled from where he was pinned down behind a bunch of crates. Blaster fire splattered off the other side of the stack, and he ducked down even farther.

“Same as always!” Luke responded from behind his own stack of crates. “At least Leia got the droids to the Falcon!”

“Well, I wish she'd give us some cover fire!”

“Rawr!” Chewbacca roared his agreement as he fired his bowcaster over the tops of the crates.

Han looked up at Chewie, “How many do you think there are?”

The wookie shrugged and let out an uncertain sounding grumble.

“That many, huh?”

“Luke!”

Luke was busy leaning around the corner of his pile of crates blasting away. He suddenly dived forward and rolled up behind another stack of crates a little farther down the docking platform, “What?!”

At that moment, there was a low rumble from the Falcon, the sound of the engines spinning up, and... the sound of them shutting down.

“Han! I thought you said you fixed that!”

“It's not my fault!”

Chewie roared agreement with Luke.

“What?” Han shrugged, standing up to high while doing so and causing another round of blaster fire in his direction. Chewie yanked him down and fired his 'caster around the side of the crates. There was a scream off in the distance.

“Good shot...”

“Chewie!” Luke yelled. “Give me cover fire!”

Chewbacca raised his blaster up over the tops of the crates and started blasting away. Tiny explosions went off in the distance as the bowcaster's powerful bolts pelted down. Luke dashed and dived around two more stacks of crates before answering fire was directed his way.

“Kid's gonna get himself killed...”

“Rawoor...”

“What do you know? That wasn't my fault, either.”

A couple of blaster shots rang off in the distance, then they heard the sound of Luke's lightsaber igniting and a scream.

Chewie let out a low chuckle.

“Shut up. It's just luck.”

Han and Chewie both let loose a few rounds of blaster before Chewie ducked back down to reload his bowcaster.

“Get to the ship. Help Leia get her started up.”

“Raoowr!”

Chewie took off at a loping run while Han opened up with cover fire. There was another scream from the direction that Luke had taken, and Han mumbled, “Hope that was one of the bad guys...” He slumped back down behind the crates.

After waiting several moments, Han peeked around the edge of the boxes. Just as he was taking aim at one of the thugs the bounty hunter had hired, a voice said from behind him, “You're that kid with the Deathmark, ain't ya?”

Han dropped and spun, firing blindly, but a blaster over his shoulder convinced him to raise his hands. He quirked up one side of his mouth into a roguish grin, “You got me...” But the site that met his eyes stole the rest of his words.

Leveling a blaster at him, stood a man in a blazing white, sequined jump suit complete with cape, his hair puffed up on one side. His teeth gleamed as bright as the jump suit, and he answered Han with his own roguish grin. Han had to shield his eyes from the glare off of the suit, though, so he didn't catch the answering grin.

“Hey, there, Son... You shot at me.”

Han gave a little shrug, “You shot first.”

The man jabbed his blaster at Han, “Actually, you shot first. I shot second.”

Han paused, nodded, “Okay... but you snuck up on me.”

“Sorry about that... this, uh, this time hopper doohickey... well, it has a mind of its own.”

“Riiight...”

“Look here, Son,” the man in white said, waving his gun around abstractedly, “I'm just here to help.”

“Then why'd you shoot at me?”

“I told you. Because you shot first.”

A new voice joined in at that point, a rough voice from a very scarred face, “What do we have here?” The scarred face looked over the man in white, “And... what are you?”

Low chuckles erupted from all around, and Han and the other man found that while they'd been talking they'd been surrounded by the bounty hunter of Ord Mantell and his thugs.

The man in white shifted the aim of his blaster to the bounty hunter, Han just kept his hands raised, his own blaster hanging loosely from his fingers, and said, “I'm a bounty hunter same as you. Seems I've caught this fella fair and square.”

The scarred faced bounty hunter laughed, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he did so, “Dressed like that!” The gathered thugs laughed, too. “Are you sure you're not the entertainment? How do expect to sneak up on anyone like that?”

“Hey, ma-an, don't step on my blue suede shoes. I got the drop on this one, didn't I? That was more than you could do.”

The yellow eyes of the bounty hunter shifted quickly to the feet of the man in white, “Your boots are white.”

“I know what color my boots are. Why are we talking about my boots?”

A grimace formed on the slightly snouty countenance of the bounty hunter, “You said they were blue.”

“Ma-an... you ain't nothin' but a hound dog. I didn't say anything about my boots.”

Han opened his mouth to speak, but the man in white said, “You keep your mouth shut there, Son.” Han snapped his jaw shut.

“Look... whatever you are, I'm taking this bounty. I've got you surrounded, but I'm not getting paid for you, just for Solo, so, “and he gestured with his blaster, “if you just put that thing away, we'll let you walk out of here.”

The man in white shifted, causing a thousand little flashes of light off of his suit, “I told you I caught him fair and square.”

“And I'm taking him from you fair and square,” grated out the rather squat bounty hunter.

“See... you're stepping all over my blue suede shoes, and I don't like it when people, or... things..., step on my blue suede shoes.” He shifted again as he gestured at the squat, pointy-eared bounty hunter with the scarred face.

The bounty hunter glanced down at the man-in-white's shoes again.

And that's when a blaster bolt left a hole in his chest.

Before the thugs could respond, more blaster bolts rained down from above and Luke landed in their midst, lightsaber singing. The thugs ran.

Han glanced down at the smoking muzzle of the blaster in the man-in-white's hand, “You shot him.”

The man in white gave that roguish grin, “Yeah, I guess I shot first that time.”

Luke deactivated his lightsaber as Han leveled his blaster at the man in white.

Luke waved Han off, “He's okay, Han.”

Blaster still pointed at the man in white, he said, “I'm just being safe. He said he was here to collect the Deathmark on my head.”

“Hell, Son, I just said that to get you out of this mess you were in. I said I was here to help, didn't I?” To prove his point, he holstered his blaster.

Chewbacca dropped down next to Han and grumbled at him. Han answered, “You're sure?”

“Roowr.”

Looking uncertain, Han put away his own blaster.

Off in the distance, the sound of the Falcon's engines started cycling again. Then the sound of them failing. Followed by them catching and the engine coming to life.

“Hey, there, Son... You better get that looked at.”

Han grimaced, “Thanks...”

“Just trying to help.”

“C'mon, Han, let's go,” Luke said as he held out his hand to the stranger. “Thanks.”

“Anytime... anytime...”

The three companions turned to go, leaving the man in white standing alone. As the rounded the corner of the crates, Han turned back, “Hey... I didn't catch your name.”

“Elvis... but you can call me The King.”

Han gave his sideways grin, “Okay... well, thanks, King.”

“Hey, it was nothing.”

“You're pretty good in a fight... why don't you come with us?”

“Thank you very much... but you ain't seen nothin'. I didn't even get out my karate.”

Han blinked, “What?”

Elvis kicked on foot into the air and made a slashing motion with his right hand, “I have a black belt.”

“Oh... well... thanks again...”

Han walked on around the crates but, then, felt as if he should make the offer one more time and turned back.

Elvis was gone.