Synopsis? Seriously? If there’s one review that doesn’t require a synopsis, it’s this one. Besides, this review’s already going to be ridiculously long.

CRITIQUE

Want to hear my Star Wars story? Too bad, because I’m going to tell you anyway. It was Thanksgiving night, 1977. A large part of my mom’s family had gathered at my maternal grandparents’ house for the holiday, including a cousin of mine who has since gone on to make a name for himself dressing up and attending sci-fi and/or comic conventions all across the country (hint: imagine if Colonel Tom Parker’s claim to fame were a drone in the Galactic Empire).

Through chicanery that escapes me, I finally managed to talk my parents into taking me to see Star Wars, this after numerous futile attempts (including one the day before I went into the hospital for surgery a few months earlier; my mom took me to see The Rescuers instead, and on the way we found out Elvis had died, which made things even lovelier, as my mom was now upset for two reasons).

My cousin was supposed to go with us, but right as we were about to leave my house for the theater he changed his mind. My parents had to call his parents to come get him, and he was denied the pleasure of sitting in a nearly abandoned theater (including me and my parents, five people were in attendance) and watching what would immediately become the greatest thing I’d ever witnessed, the thing that would put me on the path to a lifelong obsession with movies.

"Star Wars" - Photo © Lucas Film

Like so many people in the amorphous mass that is my generation who love movies and love to write about them, Star Wars is a large part of what did it for me (Raiders, Jaws, and 2001 being the others). I had the toys (I used to beg my father to call the local K-Mart to find out if any new figures had come in, then get mad when we’d arrive at the local K-Mart and find out we’d been lied to and it was still nothing but an endless supply of droid figures), I had the bed sheets, I had the collector’s cups, I sent off for the mail-in Boba Fett, I dressed up in a store-bought Darth Vader costume for Halloween in 1978 (this after my mother reneged on her promise to make me a Han Solo costume), and I made my grandparents suffer through the Holiday Special one Friday night while my parents and brother had gone out of town to watch our high school’s football team blow a championship game.

When I was eleven or so I busted open the bank I’d had forever, went with my dad to the bank to cash in all of the change, then went to the local bookstore and bought The Art of Star Wars, which contained the original script and a wealth of production art, costume sketches, and photos of models. I read that thing until the binding came unglued, enthralled by what went into making a movie. Star Wars was the first movie that made me want to know everything that went on behind the scenes, made we want to understand the process of filmmaking from beginning to end. In other words, it changed me, arguably more than any other movie has.

Which is why the following statement may come as something of a shock: I’m no apologist, but I don’t hate Lucas for altering what I and so many others originally saw so many years ago. Why? Well, there are a few reasons.

First of all, they’re his movies. He’s the chief creative force behind them and he personally footed the bill for all except the original. (All of those people who recently started quoting excerpts from Lucas’s testimony before Congress from back in 1988 in an attempt to paint him as a hypocrite missed the point. Lucas was arguing against outside forces altering a filmmaker’s work. I know that sounds like lawyer-speak, but it’s true.)

Second of all, as someone who’s never satisfied with anything to which my name is attached, I understand his impulse to tinker. Some might say that’s an apples-and-oranges comparison to what Lucas did and keeps doing to movies that were released years ago, but is it? And that question helps me segue into the last reason I see no reason to get all bent out of shape about this, which is the fact that Lucas is by no means the only person to alter a past work and then not allow the public access to the original version.

Go into a bookstore and purchase a new copy of The Magus. The one you’re getting won’t be the original, it will be the overhauled version, the one John Fowles heavily rewrote because he was dissatisfied with the original. Stephen King did it with The Stand, Tolkien made adjustments to later editions of The Hobbit, and Mary Shelley made so many changes to Frankenstein in the years following its publication you never can be sure which version it is you’re reading. And is anyone calling for Roger Waters’s head for inserting “When the Tigers Broke Free” into the reissue of The Final Cut (where it totally doesn’t fit, by the way)? Nope.

I know, I know, those aren’t movies. But Blood Simple, The Shining, and Lawrence of Arabia are, and the DVD and Blu-ray releases of those movies haven’t included the original theatrical versions. The Coens tightened up Blood Simple for a theatrical re-issue, and that’s the version you’ll find on disc. Kubrick made changes to The Shining during the first week of its theatrical release, so anyone who caught it very early saw a different version than was later shown on cable and released on VHS, DVD, and Blu-ray. And that Blu-ray of Lawrence of Arabia everyone is hoping shows up sooner rather than later? Odds are it will be the same cut that was released on DVD, which is the version David Lean retooled for the 1989 theatrical re-issue. Is anyone going to complain about that? Probably not.

The rules don’t seem to apply to Lucas, and that’s hypocrisy. I don’t care how rich we fans made him (and I just made clear, I contributed to that wealth), he has no more reason to bow to the pressures of the screaming masses than any other artist. Not liking the changes is one thing (I don’t like some of them, but I see them as flaws as opposed to aberrations, and my collection will dwindle to almost nothing if I get rid of or stop buying flawed movies), but pillorying Lucas for doing something while letting off scot-free others who’ve done the same is stupid. (Then again, logic doesn’t appear to be the forte of many of the people up in arms over this. Many of them will accuse Lucas of being a greedy bastard in one breath and then state that Lucas knows releasing the unaltered movies would bring in more money [and I thought pretzel logic was a just a Steely Dan album].)

Would it be nice to have a version that contains all versions of the movies? Yeah, sure (although you’re opening a can of worms there, as the 70mm versions of the original trilogy differed from the 35mm versions, and the digitally exhibited versions of the prequels differed from those shown via traditional means), but I’m not going to waste time worrying over that sort of thing. Star Wars is out on Blu-ray, and the part of me that remembers how that seven-year-old kid who went into Griffin, Georgia’s Parkwood Cinema (may it rest in peace) on that night in November of 1977 and walked out two hours later irrevocably changed felt couldn’t be happier.

(For the record, I think what the most vocal naysayers [read: the ones so detached from reality they have nothing better to do than to take to the ‘net to attack Lucas’s daughter for siding with her father] want is a recreation or approximation of the experience they had when they first saw these movies. Who wouldn’t want to experience such a great moment over and over again? But that’s not going to happen. It’s impossible for it to happen. Even if the movies stay the same, people don’t. I know I’ve certainly never had the exact same experience upon viewing a favorite movie for a second time. You can come close, and you can have vivid memories of a first viewing, but a carbon copy of that sort of initial experience is never going to happen. That’s a bitter pill for some people, but it’s one they need to swallow.)

In what will come as a shock to completely no one, my favorite of the entire saga is The Empire Strikes Back. It hasn’t always been, though. In fact, until I was around twenty or so it was my least favorite, probably because I had been so traumatized by it when I was ten. But then I reassessed it, and noticed how beautifully written and crafted it was/is. The pacing is electric; the movie never slows down, and it’s been edited down to the bone, with nary a superfluous frame in sight. The acting is by far the best you’ll find in the series. The same is true of the direction.

As Lucas says in one of this release’s bonus features, the late Irvin Kershner was able to make it a fun adventure movie and bring out the mythic subtext. The same level of energy is evident throughout the entire movie, but each individual scene is given the exact treatment it deserves (which explains why one of the most dramatic scenes in the movie can include a shot of a kid banging his head on a low ceiling and not lose its fire and impact). Sometimes that treatment isn’t what you’d expect, but there’s no denying it works.

For example, look at the scene in which Leia briefs the Rebel pilots on the evacuation plan. It opens with a crane shot that gives you a bird’s-eye view of the scrambling that’s going on in the hangar, then drops down to follow two pilots who are running to catch the briefing. It’s one simple shot, but the fluidity and elegance of it imbue it with an energy a bunch of quick cuts meant to create speed wouldn’t. Compare it to the scene of the Rebels preparing for the Death Star attack in Star Wars. That scene contains a bunch of short static shots that were edited together in rapid succession, but it doesn’t come close to the drive of the shot in Empire.

Then there’s the obvious reason for why this is the best of the lot, and that’s the fight between Luke and Vader, which is one giant bitch-slap for the former and culminates in one of cinema’s biggest surprises. My ten-year-old mind wasn’t prepared for that revelation, and I spent many a day trying to convince myself it was all a lie. I’ve since come to appreciate it, as it’s what the story needed, and what the story needs should be king.

I usually keep my mouth shut on the subject, but I do recognize the flaws in Star Wars and Jedi.  For the former it’s the bits of flat dialogue (I kind of agree with what Harrison Ford said about it) and somewhat clunky direction. The movie is a classic example of editing (which in this case is sensational) compensating for directing; some of what Lucas does with his camera (although I suppose it’s what he doesn’t do with it that’s the problem) is distressingly ordinary, but the movie’s put together so well it doesn’t really matter. As for Jedi, well, it’s sort of perfunctory, something of a rehash of elements from the first two flicks. You also get performances that indicate that some of those involved are there simply out of contractual obligations.

Furthermore, the direction is uneven. I’m not sure the late Richard Marquand was the best choice to helm this sort of movie, and the scenes helmed by Lucas and the other relief pitchers stick out. But I have no problem ignoring these problems while watching the movies. Star Wars still has a nostalgic pull for me, and Lucas’s ability to pull all of his influences together is still impressive. And the movie’s still damn fun, too. The attack on the second Death Star in Jedi is still the best space battle I’ve ever seen, and the scenes with Luke, Vader, and the Emperor would make Shakespeare jealous. And it’s still damn fun, too.

I was twenty-nine when The Phantom Menace was released. I saw it a week or so after it opened, hoping that way I could avoid the crowds. Little did I know I’d be stuck sitting in front of a little kid who’d already seen the movie at least once. The moment Liam Neeson showed up the little jerk told his mother exactly what would happen later in the movie. The fact that this little kid sat there and ate the movie up on his second viewing in much the same way I had the original twenty-two years earlier is a testament to Lucas’s power to tap into the younger generation. I didn’t eat it up, though. I don’t hate the movie. I do hate parts of it, but parts of it I quite enjoy (the fight with Darth Maul is great, and I think Ewan McGregor makes a terrific Obi-Wan).

I was a little crushed by my reaction, as I realized the cynicism I’d developed over the years was something I couldn’t shake loose. Lucas had obviously aimed the movie at young kids, and movies aimed squarely at young kids aren’t really something I can fully embrace (which I probably should have known going in, as I had seen Willow eleven years earlier). But my understanding of that is why I won’t stoop to the level of apoplectic fanboy. The Phantom Menace wasn’t made for me anymore than For the Love of Benji was made for my father (who suffered through it when he couldn’t convince my mom to take me). My nephew took to it the first time I showed it to him (which can’t be said for the first time I tried to show him the original flick), so something about it obviously works.

I enjoyed Attack of the Clones a little more, this despite the fact it contains many of the series’ worst moments (and worst acting). The relationship between Anakin and Padme doesn’t work, and a lot of the dialogue in those scenes is beyond awful. But I do enjoy watching Obi-Wan play Philip Marlowe, and the battle in the coliseum is pretty cool. And I don’t care what anyone says, seeing Yoda fight was worth the wait.

Of the prequels, I enjoy Revenge of the Sith most. It’s the darkest of the three, and comes closest to recreating the mythic qualities of the original trilogy. As long as people aren’t standing around talking, it’s a good movie. There’s some terrific action, the relationship between Obi-wan and Anakin often works very well, and Lucas finally shows some growth behind the camera. (It’s not the best movie Lucas has directed [I’d say that’s American Graffiti], but it’s the best directed of his efforts.) And the final moments, where the entire saga is finally bridged, are emotionally charged. I couldn’t believe the effect those scenes were having on me the first time I saw them unfold.

While I’m not going to hate on the prequels, I will say this: they’re completely unnecessary. If the saga is the story of the fall and redemption of Anakin Skywalker, we don’t need to see the fall. There’s enough information in the originals to let us know what happened, and the redemption part of such stories is almost always more interesting and compelling than the fall. Nothing in Anakin’s embracing of the Dark Side can approach the moment in Jedi where he picks up the Emperor and tosses him down the exhaust shaft. Surrounding all of this unnecessary stuff with a bunch of boring nonsense about trade unions and political bickering certainly doesn’t help matters. That’s not the sort of thing that works well in movies, so it’s hard to imagine why anyone with Lucas’s cinematic proclivities would attempt it.

In more unsurprising news, Lucas has tweaked the movies further. (I think anyone who expected him not to make more changes must have been suffering from massive brain trauma.) A few cosmetic changes have been made to the picture and sound (color correction, erasing of matte lines and boxes, the addition of new sound effects), but there are also some changes to the actual content. The Ewoks now blink. The Wampa no longer appears to be sporting a sweatshirt from his alma mater. Han’s emergence from the thawing carbonite has been brought into the digital age. The noise Ben uses to frighten off the Tuskens has been changed. The puppet Yoda from The Phantom Menace has been replaced with a digital version. And in a move that gave fanboys strokes, Vader is no longer silent during his dispatching of his boss.

Is any of this any worse that what had already been tweaked? I don’t think so. As I said earlier, some of the changes bother me, but I react negatively to the particulars of those changes, not the fact Lucas had the audacity to make them. For example, my problem with the new scene in Empire where Vader boards his shuttle, leaves Cloud City and flies to the Super Star Destroyer doesn’t stem from its newness (although it’s not really new, as the footage inside the Star Destroyer is simply a different angle of Vader’s arrival on the Death Star from Jedi), but rather from its temporary wrecking of the pace. The movie is barreling along to its conclusion when all of sudden, wham, it stops.

While I don’t mind that Han no longer shoots first, I think the execution is more than a bit wonky (although here it’s been reworked in such a way to make it less wonky). But some of them I do actually like. I think the expanded ending of Jedi works better, as it pushes the smaller story of the originals out into the larger universe of the prequels, nicely tying it all together. And I like seeing the Wampa chow down on its lunch. In the end, I don’t think any of this really harms the movies. It makes them a little different, but it doesn’t make them worse.

I don’t think Lucas has made these changes out of spite or because he’s some greedy, power-mad egomaniac. (And lest everyone forget, he also made some changes to THX 1138 for its DVD debut, and I don’t think you can chalk that up to greed.) I honestly think he always wanted the movies to be bigger, flashier, and busier. After all, he did re-shoot the cantina sequence after being given the money to redo the creatures. And one of the scenes deleted from Star Wars and included in the bonus material here adds a bit more bustle to Mos Eisley and ends with a gag that wouldn’t have been out of place in the prequels, illustrating that even back then Lucas was looking to use asides and gags to expand the feel of the movies.

I think there’s also another factor at work here, and it’s a case of Lucas being a victim of his own success and influence. The kids who are currently being introduced to these movies have probably already seen some of Star Wars’ bastard offspring. Imagine some little kid who’s seen Transformers seeing the original version of Star Wars afterward. Is that kid going to react to it the same way I and most everyone else did in 1977? Probably not. But show that kid the re-jiggered version and he/she might show more interest. First you dazzle them, then you hook with the story and characters, which is something Lucas probably learned from raising his three kids. (I also think his kids are the reason for Han now not shooting first. I’ve always suspected Han was written as the guy Lucas longed to be in his younger days, a souped-up version of the guy who has the coolest car and bags the babe. Lucas no longer wants to be that guy, so Han’s no longer quite so brash.)

Not to resort to cliché, but modern moviemaking wouldn’t be the same without Star Wars, and that extends from the content right on down to the marketing. People can debate the merits of this influence, and people can go on bitching about how these movies (and Jaws, and Raiders, and Close Encounters) served as the death knell of the golden age of the auteur (people like, say, William Friedkin, who’ll take any opportunity to knock Lucas and Spielberg but seems to forget he’s responsible for Cruising, which isn’t exactly a solid argument for allowing a director to run wild, and Deal of the Century, which is exactly the sort of high-concept flick that owes its very existence to the success of Star Wars), but you can’t blame Lucas if the movie he wanted to make turned out to be a movie everybody wanted to see and many wanted to see again and again.

Blame him for things he’s actually done, but don’t blame him for the people trying to ride his wake. (The irony in all of this, of course, is that Lucas went on to become the ultimate auteur, able to do exactly what he wants without interference from anyone else, and without having to ask anyone else to pay for it.) And while I’ll do my part in blaming him for his mistakes (like suckering my fool self into seeing Howard the Duck opening weekend), I’ll also thank him for turning me on to an artistic medium that’s given me countless hours of enjoyment, and for creating a universe that was a large part of my life for a number of years and still continues to entertain me. I can’t say that about too many other filmmakers.

THE VIDEO

All six movies are presented in their original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, and the transfers have been encoded with AVC at 1080p. Each movie gets its own 50GB disc. The transfers for the originals were sourced from the same masters as the 2004 DVD release, which were the result of an extensive scrubbing by the folks at Lowry Digital. Many people thought this would lead to a somewhat antiquated presentation, but that’s not the case.

All three fall somewhere between very good and near great, and I think it’s safe to say most of the flaws are due to age, shooting conditions, and stylistic choices, not deficiencies in the telecine work. There’s evidence of DNR having been used, but it’s never egregious; grain hasn’t been totally scrubbed away, so they still look like they were shot on film. They can look a little soft at times, but this is no doubt a consequence of the anamorphic lenses employed at the time (Star Wars and Empire were shot in Panavision, Jedi in J-D-C Scope). The contrast has been tweaked for each, resulting in some noticeable color changes; the foliage on Endor has never looked lusher, the walls of the Blockade Runner are blinding, and the snows of Hoth are a crisper white.

"Star Wars" - Photo © Lucas Film

[note: not a screencap from the Blu-ray]