Things That Should Not Have Been Forgotten

The extended edition of Peter Jackson’s The Fellowship of the Ring sets the tone of the Lord of the Rings cinematic trilogy with an incredible prologue: Galadriel, wise Elf descended from Feanor, maker of the Silmarils, proclaiming the history of the One Ring.

During the prologue, Galadriel comes to the tale of Isildur, the last of the great kings descended from Numenor; how he cut the One Ring from the hand of Sauron, thereby defeating the dark lord, and then claimed the ring for himself. But during an attack by Orc forces, the ring slipped off Isildur’s finger. With its departure Isildur lost the power of invisibility it granted him. Open and exposed, Isildur was slain by the Orcs.

When the ring abandoned Isildur, it fell into the river Anduin whose waters carried it far away. Thus it hid itself away and was forgotten by the world for a time. Too long a time.

Galadriel describes this part in the ring’s history as follows:

“…And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the ring passed out of all knowledge.”

The first line in that quote, “And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost,” haunts me. Not just because of how it hints at impending doom, as the viewer will soon find out that the ring is the key to Sauron’s return to power in Middle Earth. Rather because it is just as prescient of the current cultural clime of our world, where past evils are are still our present, and blind eyes are continuously cast upon the truth.

Fellowship of the Ring. Directed by Peter Jackson. 2001. U.S.: New Line Cinema, Film.

How many evils have we let rest under the false assumption that they would never rise again? How many have we let ourselves forget – or even tried on purpose to forget – instead of keeping them as a reminder to improve and never let it happen again?

Nearly a century after the horrible event, we remember the Holocaust with the phrase, “Never again.” To say that, we have to know what it is that we will never repeat. Otherwise the phrase is empty, meaningless. This is one of the reasons we cannot forget the Holocaust, or any of the other countless genocides and acts of putrid cruelty in human history. We cannot let evil ebb quiet and unobtrusive in the dark corners of the world. We have to take it up and destroy it.

This is a neverending process, a cyclical constant, and not all of us are strong enough to do it every time we are faced with the challenge. We are all Isildur: weak and greedy cowards.

But let’s get back to Galadriel.

After being lost for two and half thousand years and then brooded over by a pathetic, warped creature called Gollum for another few centuries, what happened to the ring?

“…something happened then the Ring did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a hobbit, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. For the time will soon come when hobbits will shape the fortunes of all.”

As evil endures, goodhearted people do likewise. And with them, the opportunity to right our wrongs and change the world for the better.

 

 

The Moment In “The Phantom Menace” That Shaped Anakin Skywalker’s Destiny

Sometimes, we have no explanation for the choices we make, the opinions we form, the attitude with which we view our lives and the world. Sometimes, they are the results of many different factors: how our parents treated us, our experiences in school, an accident, even something as simple as a movie or a song.

But sometimes, in looking back on a life full of choices, good and bad, we can trace our most important decisions to one specific event, one particular moment suspended in time that has influenced us, perhaps haunted us ever since its occurrence. The Jedi would teach us to “let go” of that moment, let it pass away so that we are left with clearer minds and unprejudiced hearts. But, as many Jedi would be forced to admit, letting go is not the easiest habit to put into practice.

No one would know this more than Anakin Skywalker. Throughout his saga of love and hate, turmoil and treachery, light and darkness, all of his pivotal decisions can be traced back to one specific event, one particular moment that formed the central core of his inner struggle with the Dark Side: the moment when he left Tatooine and slavery behind for a life of freedom, knowledge, and adventure.

More specifically, the moment when he left his mother behind.

In this moment, Anakin has finally gotten his heart’s desire: he is free from the bonds of slavery. In addition, there is the unexpected but welcome joy of leaving Tatooine to be trained as a Jedi Knight on the capital world of Coruscant. But the liberation comes with a terrible cost: he must leave Shmi Skywalker behind, still trapped in a fate of enslavement that he cannot, at this time, change.

In this moment, he vows to one day return to Tatooine to free his mother. That promise, and the guilt that it curses him with until his ultimate return in Attack of the Clones, is what drives his every dance with the Dark Side. That promise set the path of an innocent, bright-eyed, eager ten-year-old boy as one of self-destruction, self-hate, and suffering. As the music of the track entitled “Anakin is Free” swells, we feel this. We feel the epic destiny, the dread of something beginning that cannot be stopped.

Granted, Anakin is still responsible for his choices. He is not blameless in succumbing to the easy path tread by all Sith. He is not blameless for the countless lives he took, or for the equal amount of lives he ruined through tyranny and the theft of loved ones. But there is a source for this evil, a drive behind the madness.

And it was this moment.

Images courtesy of screencapped.net.

Listen to this incredible moment from “Anakin is Free,” by the incomparable John Williams.

Will The Sequel Trilogy Be MY Star Wars?

It seems that every single Star Wars fan has “their” Star Wars. For example, those who grew up in the 70s and 80s love the original trilogy. For those who were young during the early 2000s, the prequel trilogy was their time to shine in the franchise. There are even some kids today whose experience with Star Wars began with the animated Clone Wars television show, nevermind the films. I suspect that Star Wars Rebels will produce much the same sort of fans, which is great. It’s great that kids are getting to experience Star Wars in a format that’s more entertaining for them.

For someone who grew up during the prequel trilogy, one might think that that would be my Star Wars, and indeed, I would agree. I got Attack of the Clones trading cards and a green lightsaber (which, oddly enough, had Obi Wan’s hilt style). I received a DVD copy of The Phantom Menace for, oh I don’t know, maybe my eighth or ninth birthday. And I kind of have had a crush on young Obi Wan since I was five or six. In all of these respects, the prequel trilogy was a great time for me.

But there is no doubt that a change is coming. Another revolution in the Star Wars franchise is about to happen, and the world is getting ready. And there’s still a few things that I haven’t experienced with any of the Star Wars films. For one thing, I have never seen a live-action Star Wars movie in theaters before (I did see The Clone Wars movie in theaters, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t produce the equivalent to what I would feel watching a live action episode). Not only that, but when the prequels were coming out, I wasn’t a part of the internet fandom at all. Granted, I don’t think the presence of the fandom was quite as outspoken or popular as it is today; but still, I wasn’t really old enough to experience what was there. And maybe that’s a good thing; only internet fans from that era could tell me one way or another. I know that there are pros and cons to being an active participant in Star Wars discussions and analysis. In the year or so that I’ve been on Twitter, I’ve learned that it can be easy to get caught up in your own feelings and opinions and forget to be respectful, so that’s a downside. On the other hand, I’ve made a lot of great friends through social media, people who love Star Wars and are loving this new age in Star Wars that is coming upon us.

So basically, this sequel trilogy has been the beginning of my true Star Wars experience. I’m interacting with other fans, keeping up with the latest news and rumors. I geeked out over the title announcement, and am anticipating the day I walk into that theater and see the words “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…” fade onto the black screen. So does that mean that the sequel trilogy is “my” Star Wars?

Let me clarify what I mean by “my” Star Wars. I’m not talking about which Star Wars movies I think are the best. To me, it doesn’t matter what year you were born in or which of the movies were made in your lifetime; the prequel trilogy and the original trilogy are for everyone, not just those who grew up with them. The Star Wars films belong to everybody who wants to watch them, be they casual fans or diehards. No, what I’m talking about is the Star Wars experience.

People who grew up in the 70s and 80s refer to episodes 4-6 as “their” Star Wars, because those are the ones they really experienced: followed the production of, looked forward to, watched in theaters and bought toys from. Those growing up in the prequel era experienced much the same. I still fit in to the latter category, to a certain extent. The main reason why I don’t fit into it completely, however, is because I never saw a prequel movie in theaters. I don’t blame anybody for this; it just never happened. Because it didn’t, I never got to feel that joy that comes with watching a Star Wars movie on the big screen. But I will, I hope, feel that joy with the sequel trilogy movies. It’ll be something that I’ll be able to remember when I get older, when episodes 7,8, and 9 have become cinematic legends. By that time, I may get nostalgic recalling those memories. Or maybe I’ll just be excited in the moment, and be happy with watching Blu Rays of them for the rest of my life, even if they’re re-released into theaters again some years down the road. But whatever happens, I’ll know that I had the experience. I will have heard John Williams’ sweeping score, felt chills of excitement as I am reunited with old, familiar Star Wars characters and introduced to new ones. All in the comfort of a theater seat, a giant screen filling my vision.

In that sense, yes, the sequel trilogy will be my Star Wars.

But all of the Star Wars movies are still for me, too. The sequel trilogy will just be (hopefully) my best experience with them.

Smaug & Sidious: What Makes Them So Fascinatingly Villainous?

Last Friday, I purchased the extended edition of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug on Blu Ray. The film itself is expanded by twenty-five minutes of extra footage, plus nine hours of film documentaries spread out over two separate discs. Over the course of about three days, I watched the film and most of the documentaries. And now, I have to say: Smaug is my new favorite character to quote. He’s just so deliciously, wholly and completely a villain, that it’s fascinating and a delight to watch and hear him on screen, and mimic his movements and lines off screen.

Of course, I may have a slight “thing” for Benedict Cumberbatch, who provides Smaug’s melodious voice, but nuance.

What makes a villain so much fun to watch and read about? What weaves the twisted web of the love-to-hate relationship that so many viewers and readers conjure with their favorite bad guy or girl? I’m talking about a specific kind of villain: the one who is thoroughly egotistical, greedy, and arrogant, the one that you just love to watch because he or she is always plotting and planning, ready for anything, pushing your hero or heroine to the limits of their abilities and sanity. It may have to do with the power of their voice or their appearance, for it seems that every villain needs something physically impressive about them in order to make the sell. But I think there is more to the archetype than that, something that lies with the prowess of the mind. There has to be a really intelligent brain behind all the boasting, a conniving, evil mind that can cleverly cut into the thoughts and plots of his enemies and extract all the information he wants, be it through words or magic or simply careful maneuvering. Not only that, but a good villain can play with you, sow doubt and almost, just almost convince you that he is in the right and that you can sympathize with him. As such, he’s not just a step ahead of the competition; he’s on an entirely different playing field, so much so that the heroes have to struggle against seemingly impossible odds to even snag a toehold next to him or her.

Smaug fits into this category of villain in all respects. First of all, his physical attributes are manifold: he’s a magnificently humongous fire-breathing dragon, with a wingspan the size of two 747 jet planes. Smaug describes himself rather well in The Desolation of Smaug when he says, “My teeth are spears! My armor is iron! My wings are a hurricane!” Clearly, he has the advantage over literally every other creature in mentioned in The Hobbit, from trolls to wargs to the Gundabad Orc Azog, himself. Even Sauron dares not assert his all-consuming dominion over the beast, choosing instead to forge an alliance (which you can learn about by watching the extended edition of The Desolation of Smaug). Then, there’s his voice: a powerful mixture of the voice work of Benedict Cumberbatch, and enhancing undertones added by the sound department working on The Hobbit films.

The artists and animators at Weta Digital cannot be overlooked, either, for they are the ones responsible for making the dragon look as real and larger than life as would only do him justice. They also took the personality that Tolkien infused into his lines and Benedict into his voice, and rendered it in a stunning array of animations that give you not only a fire-breathing dragon and impressive enemy, but also a dangerous, intelligent character.

Dragons in Tolkien’s fictional universe have rather special qualities. They are borderline hypnotists, and clever conversationalists. They care about two things: the riches they accumulate and their pride. Smaug is no different;  in fact, he is the ultimate personification of this kind of dragon, being that he is the only dragon who plays a principal role in events outside of those told of in Tolkien’s posthumously published work, “The Silmarillion.” He is the master of extracting information, and is able to get under Bilbo Baggins’s skin and find out all the things he needs to know: who is coming to steal from him, how many others there are besides the hobbit thief, etc. Smaug considers himself to be so impressive, in both bodily and mental faculties, that his fatal flaw (a missing scale on a vulnerable spot on his belly) can be deemed both insignificant and impossible to exploit. How many archers  could make such a precise shot? Of course, if you’ve read the book, then you know that there is at least one archer who can, but such is the nature of an epic story; the villains always lose, their fatal flaws are always exploited despite the odds piled up against such a seeming impossibility.

Those odds are an important element to a villain, in my opinion. You have to believe that the villain can succeed, even if, deep down, you know or think that they won’t. The stakes have to be high, the victory almost unattainable, because you have to believe in the villain. If you can’t believe in the villain, then the conflict of the story drops and the story is not as worthwhile anymore, because your hero doesn’t have to go above and beyond what they think they can do to defeat their enemies. There is no surprise, no wonder or awe for the audience. The victory is lessened in meaning, and the climax becomes mediocre. When the villain, especially the overblown, egotistical villain that we’re talking about doesn’t have all the necessary elements to make him truly impressive, something is lost to the audience. The villain in that case becomes just another pretender, another cataclysmic failure waiting to implode.

Which is why you need every element that makes a good, decent, wholly evil villain. Smaug has them, which I’ve already mentioned: size, power, cunning. But there is another villain who possesses all of these lovely qualities, and he is worth mentioning. His name is Palpatine.

Emperor Palpatine, that is; also known by his Sith title, Darth Sidious, he, too, represents the epitome of the selfish, greedy, confident villain of the Star Wars universe who is just so much fun to watch. But why? Why is he so much fun to see become victorious, despite the depth and breadth of his evil? In my opinion, it’s partly due to his devious mind. His diabolical plan to conquer the Separatists, thereby uniting most of the galaxy under one government, and overthrow the Jedi Order is astounding in its utter genius, mostly because it succeeds. By the end of Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, Sidious is in complete control. All of his machinations have come to success, and he has every reason to gloat and be satisfied that his victory is all but complete. Not even the great Jedi, Grand Master Yoda can defeat him. Even Luke Skywalker can’t (or at least won’t) defeat him in Return of the Jedi, and Luke is supposed to be the ultimate hero of the original trilogy. Sidious has so many odds in his favor: a powerful apprentice who does his bidding, a Senate that cannot oppose him, legions of Imperial troops at his beck and call, and a planet-destroying super weapon poised and ready to point at whatever world he wishes to annihilate. He does have a fatal flaw, as Luke points out when he says, “Your overconfidence is your weakness,” but this doesn’t become apparent as the fatal flaw until the very last few minutes of Sidious’s life on the second Death Star. This is because the object of his overconfidence is so unlikely to fail him, so seemingly incapable of betraying him at that moment, that he doesn’t even consider him a threat in his final moments.

In Sidious’s mind, there is no way that Darth Vader will betray him on the second Death Star, when Luke is all but dead and the snuffing out of the rebellion imminent. The odds are stacked up against this possibility. The cards have all been played; Sidious will triumph, and Luke Skywalker and all of his friends will die…until Vader changes the game and does the unthinkable: he betrays his master, not out of a desire to usurp the latter and become the next great Sith Master, but out of love for his son. Only when this happens is Sidious defeated. Nothing else would have defeated him so completely. And the odds were stacked against it happening. Which is one of the things makes Sidious so believably a villain, so deliciously evil. He’s so powerful and so in control of all the variables, that the viewer actually begins to believe that he COULD win. Again, it is only when the unthinkable happens that victory against the Dark Lord of the Sith becomes remotely feasible.

I love it when a storyteller can make this kind of villain a success. Villains like Smaug and Sidious are so confident in themselves and their plans, so evil and powerful and in possession of all the factors, that it is only the small things can defeat them. To quote Gandalf, it’s the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. The determination of a man to protect his family and his town. The love of a father for his son. Smaug and Sidious are alike in that they are overconfident in themselves and their abilities, and for that reason they are destined to fall. What is telling is that it takes a lot of work on the part of the heroes in order to exploit those fatal flaws and use them to destroy their enemies once and for all. And as soon as great villains are gone, everyone breathes a sigh of relief; that’s how great of an impression they made on their audiences. The challenges they provided for the heroes and for the audiences made for conflict that was satisfying, even heart wrenching, qualities a good cinematic or reading experience should convey.

But, as sick as this may seem to say, they’re such fun to watch while they’re still alive. And that is telling of something else. It proves that their villainy is so well written and so well portrayed, it’s absolutely, almost shamefully fascinating.