Star Wars rewatch: Star Wars

NOTE: For this rewatch, I viewed the original unaltered versions of the Star Wars trilogy. There will be no discussion of the changes made to the films in the Special Editions or any later releases.

 

**SPOILERS HEREIN**

In a way, it’s easy to forget how good the original Star Wars is. 

I know, the very thought sounds absurd. It’s only the biggest movie of all time, nearly everything about it so thoroughly ingrained in our cultural vernacular. But perhaps fans who, like me, delved frequently into the now-defunct Expanded Universe know where I’m coming from. So much has sprouted from this one film that it almost seems like a small sapling in a dense forest of mythology (not to mention the tons and tons of merchandise of all kinds). Even in the context of just the movies, its own sequels feature much more significant events, both for the main characters and the larger galactic conflict, that arguably overshadow what’s in this movie.

For these reasons, the initial film always feels new and fresh upon revisiting, and also disconnected by itself. It’s less concerned with planting seeds for future stories than whatever perils lie down the next Death Star corridor. Such makes it practically a relic in this age of long-term franchise building (to which even this series isn’t immune). Yet on the contrary, it has an outside-of-time quality that very few films achieve, as enjoyable today as the first time you saw it in the theater (or, in my case, on a scratchy VHS from Blockbuster). What elevates it so isn’t its timeless archetypes, cherished characters, or childhood nostalgia, though all certainly contribute to its beloved status. But underneath all of that, it still works after nearly four decades because it’s a tremendously well-made picture in every aspect.

For one, it's a masterpiece of editing. Every action sequence is a tightly-packed, flawlessly constructed gem of different shots, angles, and effects. Before the movie kicks into gear in the second act, each scene of exposition still has a forward momentum, succinctly but clearly laying down the situation for viewers without dragging (a skill that would elude some further Star Wars films). The whole thing is practically a master course in pacing.

It’s also a masterwork of sounds. John Williams’ score is more than just iconic; the music instills energy, adrenaline, and emotion into every scene as much as the editing I just mentioned. Credit is also due to Ben Burtt for creating an array of sound effects so vivid and real (which, also, are flawlessly edited into the mix). Think about it: how many sounds from that galaxy far, far away are as instantly familiar as the things we hear in our daily lives? At the very least, they’re as recognizable as the music.

And of course, the special effects are still so impressive, even though standard CGI passed them up a long time ago. Actually, it’s more convincing than digital effects in a way. Even with the best CGI, we know when we’re seeing a computer creation, as it’s almost always unnaturally shiny and fluorescent. These old-fashioned hand-built models take up space, get dirty, and reflect natural light. True, a few shots here and there are static and obvious, but the majority are convincing and thrilling (and again, the editing keeps the so-so shots short and the action moving).

But, for all the spectacular sensory experience, it wouldn’t be the classic that it is without its characters. Sure, the three main leads are clearly a little green and inexperienced, but that just makes them more real and relatable. As Luke Skywalker, Mark Hamill is believable as a regular dreamer we’ve all felt like at some point in our youth. Though he handles himself better than most viewers probably would in the face of danger, he never loses his everyman quality. Harrison Ford’s near-humorous attempt to imbue Han Solo with an anti-heroism actually works in the character’s favor. It’s clear from the start it’s all a façade, that he’s really got a good heart and is on our side. As Princess Leia, Carrie Fisher admittedly doesn’t veer too far out of the footsteps of the damsel in distress archetype, but at least she’s got personality, and gets to share in the smart-alecky banter and participate in the action once she’s rescued. And C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) provide the right amount of comic relief without overstaying their welcome or getting in the way. No one thinks twice about it now because the bickering droids are sci-fi icons, but it’s a testament to the work of the actors, as well as the costume and effects designers, that they made expressionless, technically non-living objects (one of whom only beeps, no less) into fully developed and beloved characters.

Excellent, too, are the two Brit greats in supporting roles. Alec Guinness gives a legitimacy to the whole narrative as Obi-Wan Kenobi simply by his presence and the conviction in his delivery (he was quite the actor because you can’t tell a bit from his performance that he hated the picture). And yeah, Darth Vader (David Prowse) is cool and certainly more famous, but he’s more of a henchman here to the real bad guy: Peter Cushing’s Grand Moff Tarkin. The horror legend is at his scene-chewing best, personifying a mannered and sinister Imperial aesthetic (both of the Empire in the Star Wars saga and the then-not-too-distant colonial powers I’m sure the character brought to mind in some viewers).

Beginning the moment the Millennium Falcon blasts out of Mos Eisley, the film crescendos with every new Stormtrooper encounter and Death Star chase or shootout, each one more exciting than the last. But the Death Star trench run at the end is something else, maybe the greatest action sequence ever constructed. The music is certainly the best piece in the entire saga (yes, better than even the main theme or the "Imperial March"), comprising every possible emotional high and low. It’s here the fantastic editing (I hate to beat a dead horse, but Richard Chew, Paul Hirsch, and Marcia Lucas did such a damn fine job) shines brightest, turning the chaos of explosions and special effects shots into a coherent and thrilling ride. More than just wowing the viewer with its flash, however, shots of the fighters’ cockpits add an intimate dramatic tension to the whole assault. Luke being the hero, much of this focus is on Hamill, whose arc as Force prodigy X-Wing pilot is highly exciting and emotionally satisfying. However, praise is due to all the Rebel pilot players. Particularly notable is Drewe Henley as Garven Dreis, the doomed Red Leader. One of the great underrated performances in the whole franchise, Henley’s icy determination unraveling moment-by-moment is captivating. His restrained intensity is so palpable that when he misses the Death Star exhaust port, then gets shot down, there’s a devastating pathos that’s almost equal to the victorious ecstasy when Luke succeeds in saving the day. I hope Dreis gets his due in Rogue One next year, or another spinoff after that (same goes for Denis Lawson’s Wedge Antilles, a major character in the EU but always second fiddle on film).

The film’s production and technical brilliance is much, much greater than that in the old sci-fi adventure serials that inspired it. But it’s a lot closer to those works (or the full serial mode of George Lucas’ Indiana Jones series the following decade) than any of its deeper-plotted sequels, prequels, or written spinoffs, in tone and plain old great fun. The greatest moment in the Star Wars saga was still yet to come (we’ll get to that next week), but for sheer breathless, wall-to-wall enjoyment, nothing yet released in the series (and few works outside of it) tops the 1977 original.