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Star Words: Episode III, Part 41
Jan. 31st, 2019 01:56 pmThere is a heartbreaking poetry to the sequence that brings us the twins' birth, Padmé's death and the (re)birth of Anakin as Vader. The visual parallels tell a story far more effectively than words. In the sparse and sterile world of an underground asteroid base, Obi-Wan urgently hurries to the medical center with Padmé cradled in his arms. Meanwhile, Anakin's body is carried through the raging rain, to the harsh angular spire where he will be transformed. Lightning flashes ominously against the skyline. The symmetry will continue throughout, but let's pause to consider the medical droid's diagnosis. Padmé is dying.
"We don't know why. She has lost the will to live."
And there you have one of the most controversial elements of this film, the one that had people claiming Padmé's character was ruined, disenfranchised, reduced to a weakling, etc., etc., etc. I'm not going to pretend that this moment was easy for me to take the first time I watched Episode III. It's not supposed to be easy, though. It's supposed to be tragic and unfair and devastating. There was never going to be a moment of awesome triumph to crown this film. It is the nadir.
On the other hand, it seems a little absurd to believe that this somehow undoes nearly three films' worth of Padmé's character development, discounting all her strength and resolve and determination simply because something happened that was too terrible for her to overcome. Strength does not always mean victory. She has always been someone who cared with fervent intensity, sometimes a little too much. Whether her love for Naboo, for the Republic or for Anakin, she poured herself into it with all of her heart. To me, it's all the more admirable that she dies because she loves more than her heart can take.
Well, it's a bit wonky if you try to take it literally. Most things in Star Wars are a bit wonky if you try to dissect them with a purely literalist viewpoint. It's a mythic death, not a verifiable medical diagnosis. Yes, people have actually died from the strain of heartbreak (and what awful irony that such a death is exactly what happened to Carrie Fisher's actual mother) but we'll only drive ourselves crazy trying to explore the biological ramifications. It's silly to claim, for example, that Anakin's fall would have been easily avoided if only the Star Wars galaxy had decent reproductive health care. The thing is, Padmé doesn't die OF childbirth. She dies DURING childbirth. I'm sure the strain of delivery doesn't help matters, but I doubt that even the very best medical droids on Coruscant could have mended the spiritual wounds that kill her. When she tells Anakin earlier, "I'm not going to die in childbirth; I promise you," there seems the implicit meaning that she's been watching her health closely and doesn't anticipate any serious risk factors. She could not have anticipated what Anakin himself would do to harm her, both physically and emotionally.
It's important that Anakin does physically attack her for a number of reasons. He needs to believe that he actually killed her in that moment, along with their unborn child, for Sidious's manipulations to be successful -- and for his hidden children to remain safe. But it's also important for us the see the results of his corruption. Someone who has absorbed the toxicity of the Dark Side cannot simply shut off his violent mindset at will, not even for those he loves. Anakin has gone through all sorts of mental contortions to convince himself that his change to evil is worth it as long as it protects Padmé, but it is a lie. He cannot protect her from his own attacks.
But the literal act of strangulation is not what kills her. It's that mysterious "lost the will to live." How could that be so for Padmé after all her demonstrations of strength? How could she give into despair? Couldn't she find enough resolve to keep going? Not even for her own children? And how could Anakin survive his far more grievous injuries, going on to live for decades? It's just not fair, you guys.
Again, of course it's unfair. Of course it's infuriating. But it's not literal. It's symbolist. Anakin and Padmé both die. They take their last breaths within moments of each other. The next breath is Vader's. Oh, I know, Anakin has already been transforming into Vader from the moment he bowed to Sidious, but this instant marks the final death knell. Anakin is fixated on the threat of physical death, and it proves his undoing. He wanted to keep Padmé alive through means that may have been, in Palpatine's words, "unnatural," but Padmé will not partake of that corruption. Instead, Anakin will cling unnaturally to life as Vader, more machine than man, still fighting and raging against the one thing he has always feared the most. As a redeemed Anakin, he can finally be peaceful and accepting of his approaching death.
Among the great mythic themes explored in Star Wars, the most powerful might just be duality. Life and death. Nature and technology. Light and darkness. Death....and rebirth. Anakin is dead; Vader is born. But Anakin will be reborn. And with him, the memory of Padmé.
Whew! Still not done with Padmé. Next time, her dying words.....
"We don't know why. She has lost the will to live."
And there you have one of the most controversial elements of this film, the one that had people claiming Padmé's character was ruined, disenfranchised, reduced to a weakling, etc., etc., etc. I'm not going to pretend that this moment was easy for me to take the first time I watched Episode III. It's not supposed to be easy, though. It's supposed to be tragic and unfair and devastating. There was never going to be a moment of awesome triumph to crown this film. It is the nadir.
On the other hand, it seems a little absurd to believe that this somehow undoes nearly three films' worth of Padmé's character development, discounting all her strength and resolve and determination simply because something happened that was too terrible for her to overcome. Strength does not always mean victory. She has always been someone who cared with fervent intensity, sometimes a little too much. Whether her love for Naboo, for the Republic or for Anakin, she poured herself into it with all of her heart. To me, it's all the more admirable that she dies because she loves more than her heart can take.
Well, it's a bit wonky if you try to take it literally. Most things in Star Wars are a bit wonky if you try to dissect them with a purely literalist viewpoint. It's a mythic death, not a verifiable medical diagnosis. Yes, people have actually died from the strain of heartbreak (and what awful irony that such a death is exactly what happened to Carrie Fisher's actual mother) but we'll only drive ourselves crazy trying to explore the biological ramifications. It's silly to claim, for example, that Anakin's fall would have been easily avoided if only the Star Wars galaxy had decent reproductive health care. The thing is, Padmé doesn't die OF childbirth. She dies DURING childbirth. I'm sure the strain of delivery doesn't help matters, but I doubt that even the very best medical droids on Coruscant could have mended the spiritual wounds that kill her. When she tells Anakin earlier, "I'm not going to die in childbirth; I promise you," there seems the implicit meaning that she's been watching her health closely and doesn't anticipate any serious risk factors. She could not have anticipated what Anakin himself would do to harm her, both physically and emotionally.
It's important that Anakin does physically attack her for a number of reasons. He needs to believe that he actually killed her in that moment, along with their unborn child, for Sidious's manipulations to be successful -- and for his hidden children to remain safe. But it's also important for us the see the results of his corruption. Someone who has absorbed the toxicity of the Dark Side cannot simply shut off his violent mindset at will, not even for those he loves. Anakin has gone through all sorts of mental contortions to convince himself that his change to evil is worth it as long as it protects Padmé, but it is a lie. He cannot protect her from his own attacks.
But the literal act of strangulation is not what kills her. It's that mysterious "lost the will to live." How could that be so for Padmé after all her demonstrations of strength? How could she give into despair? Couldn't she find enough resolve to keep going? Not even for her own children? And how could Anakin survive his far more grievous injuries, going on to live for decades? It's just not fair, you guys.
Again, of course it's unfair. Of course it's infuriating. But it's not literal. It's symbolist. Anakin and Padmé both die. They take their last breaths within moments of each other. The next breath is Vader's. Oh, I know, Anakin has already been transforming into Vader from the moment he bowed to Sidious, but this instant marks the final death knell. Anakin is fixated on the threat of physical death, and it proves his undoing. He wanted to keep Padmé alive through means that may have been, in Palpatine's words, "unnatural," but Padmé will not partake of that corruption. Instead, Anakin will cling unnaturally to life as Vader, more machine than man, still fighting and raging against the one thing he has always feared the most. As a redeemed Anakin, he can finally be peaceful and accepting of his approaching death.
Among the great mythic themes explored in Star Wars, the most powerful might just be duality. Life and death. Nature and technology. Light and darkness. Death....and rebirth. Anakin is dead; Vader is born. But Anakin will be reborn. And with him, the memory of Padmé.
Whew! Still not done with Padmé. Next time, her dying words.....
