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Attack Of The Clones is finally upon us and the eternal battle of critic and fan has flared once again into sound and fury. Against the tightly arrayed phalanx of trained and disciplined professional film critics, is pitted an enraged, onrushing horde of fans, two hundred million (and counting) dollars' worth of Star Wars junkies ready to defend the honor of Episode II to the very last. For the rest of humanity, this clash seems more than a little peculiar. Why so much psychoemotional capital invested in arguing the ultimate worth of what appears to any disinterested party to be an entertaining if indifferently assembled sci-fi movie? Moreover, why is Lucas so willfully indifferent towards the critical responses to the most recent Star Wars films, insisting on overseeing all aspects of the producction of each film, when it is universally acknowledged that thee best film in the Star Wars series was neither scripted nor directed by him?
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The answer becomes clear only when one steps back to get a wider perspective. From a more distant viewpoint, relations between seemingly unrelated entities begin to materialize, the way indididual pixels of a video display congeal into recognizable pictures. The release of AOTC and the resulting brouhaha represents just a single move of a single piece in a much larger game. The man making the moves is George Lucas, and the stakes in his game are as vast and primal as the scope of human ambition.
To the casual Star Wars fan, say, someone whose seen Episode IV a few times and all the other films twice or thrice, a glimpse through some Star Wars tie-in material, from books and comics, to board games and software, will reveal a bewildering variety of unknown faces and names. Seemingly peripheral characters will turn out to have elaborate backstories of their own. Each kooky alien turns out to be a member of a fully imagined race having its own culture, physiology, and language. Every droid has a model number and a function. The stories of the various Star Wars related novels tie in with the comics and videogames, and these in turn inform the films, including AOTC. All this seemingly excess information in total constitutes something called the"Expanded Universe", a vast and complicated elaboration of the stories told in the Star Wars movies. It is crucial to our understanding to note here that Lucas is a jealous guardian of this body of narratives. A perfect example of this can be found in his his production company Lucasfilm's official definition of fandom, as expressed in a press release concerning Lucasfilms' decision to exclude "fanfic" (that is, original stories not written by Lucas-approved individuals) type films from an officially sponsored Star Wars film festival. "We want them to have fun. But if in fact somebody is using our characters to create a story unto itself, that's not in the spirit of what we think fandom is about. Fandom is about celebrating the story the way it is."Fandom, in other words, consists not in creation, but in exegesis and veneration. By now we have stepped far enough back that the points of color, this videogame, that novel, this droid, that Hutt, are resolving into vague forms: there is a picture forming here, but it is not quite discernable. To get a true sense of Lucas' plans, there is still one more step that must be taken (mind the coffee table). On July 15th, Lucas' videogame company, LucasArts together with Sony, Inc., will begin beta testing of Star Wars Galaxies, a Massive Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game in which thousands of people will take on the roles of characters living, working, fighting, and, interacting (not to mention stealing, cheating, and fucking) in the world of Star Wars: the Expanded Universe come to very real life. With this, our picture snaps into focus. It can now be seen why so much effort has been expended on what appeared to be trivial details about fictional beings, why the control of the "official" Star Wars storylines has been so tenaciously maintained, and indeed, why Lucas has been so insistent on retaining total power over the production, scripting, and direction of the Star Wars movies, even at the expense of quality of the final product. The accumulation of miniscule details about aliens, planetary systems, and personalities was for the purpose of developing and peopling an entire alternate universe, with the Star Wars movies, novels and videogame narratives serving as the shared body of myth holding the culture of this universe together. The fanatacism of true believer Star Wars fans stems not from mere concern over the quality of a movie, but rather from a need to validate and defend the very existence of their world. With the release of SWG, this world, developed entirely under the guidance and with the blessing of one man, George Lucas, will be inhabited by thousands of lving breathing human beings. The final result of Lucas' decades of work and thought, deal-making and marketing, will be to have transformed himself into something very much like a god.
To be the master of a universe, to have multitudes of real people not just reading your books or watching your films, but living on a planet of your own devising, interacting with one another through cultural and social structures whose whole existence is a result of your thoughts and actions, to have willed a world into being: is it so mad for a man to strive for this? Fucking hell right it is. Lusting after omnipotence is for losers and psychos. Normal, well-adjusted people seek only for good friends, good books, and good food, to get laid regularly, and maybe to make the world a better place (for example, by editing an informative and socially beneficial weblog). Much as I enjoyed AOTC, I can't help but worry that my eight bucks has gone to fund something very sinister and unwholesome. Once upon a time, there was a movie about Jedi Kinghts, X-wings, Wookies, Smugglers and Princesses, Droids and Death Stars a special, wonderful movie indeed, but at the end of the day, just a movie. A quarter-century later, the whole thing has metastasized into some tinpot demiurge's wild flailing lunge for immortality. Fuck, I'd rather be watching Bea Arthur crooning on top of a piano in in some seedy Tatooine cantina. What hath George wrought?
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