matril

As the day of battle begins, the components are set in place like chess pieces. Han and his strike team approach the bunker. Vader's shuttle leaves with Luke aboard. Lando and the Rebel fleet go into hyperspace. But this battle will be anything but straightforward or predictable. Lots of surprises are coming, starting with the Ewoks' knowledge of a secret entrance to the bunker. Less guarded, easier to infiltrate. Still, Leia reminds Han that even one noise could ruin the mission. He replies with his trademark cocky smile.

"Then we'll do it real quiet-like."

There's a lot of elevated language in Star Wars, long convoluted phrases and diction that sounds like, well, a cheesy old movie serial. It's delightful and I quote it all the time. But sometimes it's nice to have Han's way of talking. It encapsulates his personality and background quite effectively, and it's usually good for a chuckle or two. Wasn't Han the one who stepped on a twig and alerted every stormtrooper in sight just yesterday? Real quiet-like, huh? With the stakes so high, it's nice to have a brief break in the tension with a line like this.

Next, back to the serious stuff....

Even after Vader acknowledges that he will have to kill his son if he refuses to turn to the Dark Side, Luke continues to sense conflict in Vader, and pleads with him to let go of his hate. Vader's brief response contains volumes.

"It is too late for me, son."

There's a lifetime of regret in those words. Too late. If Vader were unequivocally glorying in the Dark Side, he would think of it that way. And there was a time, once, that wasn't too late. It wasn't inevitable. In my view, even an acknowledgement that he wishes it were otherwise is enough cause for hope. A desire to change, though change seems permanently out of reach. That desire is a spark. A spark can start a bonfire.

Vader calls Luke son. Not in commanding tones, to call for his fealty or submission. It's quiet and sad. It means so much. The very fact that Vader addresses Luke this way sheds doubt on the words he just spoke. Too late...or the beginning of hope?

Next time, one more line from this scene and then we'll move on, I promise....

The last meeting between Luke and Vader was...intense. A prolonged lightsaber duel, a crushing (and maiming) defeat for Luke, an awful revelation. Vader called on Luke to join him, confident that he would succumb. Luke howled his defiance, cried like a baby (that's not an insult; I'd cry like a baby too) and finally jumped to his apparent death.

That makes this moment of reunion all the more surreal. It's quiet. Luke is calm, passive. They look at each, silently, while the Imperial officer gives his report. They stride down the corridor together and talk quietly. You can hardly tell that Luke's hands are bound, he appears so self-composed and assured.

But the very space between them crackles with charged emotions and implications. Things finally get heated when Luke acknowledges Vader as his father, then qualifies that he has accepted his former identity as Anakin Skywalker. Vader immediately denies that the name has any meaning, a denial that seems pretty feeble when you see how defensive he's becoming. Luke counters with a poignant reply.

"It is the name of your true self. You've only forgotten."

Oh, my heart. There is so much meaning and symbolism with names of Star Wars, and this is the most powerful. When Anakin took on the dark mantle of Vader in Episode III, he still retained some part of his old self. Palpatine only addresses him by his Sith name, but Obi-Wan and Padmé continue to call him Anakin. He responds to it, having not yet entirely lost his connection to goodness. By the time of the original trilogy, that connection is severed, leaving only Darth Vader.

...or is it? Luke is convinced that something of Anakin remains, something deeply buried and forgotten but not destroyed. He has formed a bond with his father; that much is clear from their mutual sense of each other's presence. So does he actually sense something that others cannot see, or is it only wishful thinking? The viewers are left guessing till the very end, wondering if Luke is particularly insightful or sadly delusional. I could not fault him either way. He loves his father, the man he was and the man he could become again. That is reason enough to try.

Next time, another heartrending quote from Luke....

Now Leia understands why Luke must leave, but not why he's going to Vader instead of fleeing to the farthest edges of the galaxy. Well...the next exchange partly answers it. I wish I could go with you. To which Luke promptly responds No, you don't. What's keeping her from running away with Luke? Nothing external. Only her sense of duty and justice. Only the very core of her being. He knows she would never abandon the Rebel cause, the same that he could never run away from doing what's right.

As Leia knows what she must do, so Luke follows his own conscience. He has sensed the good in their father, and he intends to draw it out.

"I can save him. I can turn him back to the good side. I have to try."

Those first two lines are a beautiful expression of Luke's pure optimism and hope. Spoken with absolute assurance and determination.

Then a pause, and a wistful tone enters his voice. This third line is the absolute essence of his character. He believes wholeheartedly in Vader's ability to change, but even he has to acknowledge that his chances of turning him are slim. So? He's going to try anyway. Not because victory is certain -- it's anything but that. It's because if there's even the slightest chance -- the very tiniest particle of goodness still left in his father -- he has to try. That is who Luke is.

The chances of destroying the first Death Star were abysmally low. Multiple pilots with far more experience than Luke attempted the run and were defeated. But Luke had to try. As long as there was still life in him, he had to try. The possibility that a hardened mercenary like Han would change his ways? Every indication pointed otherwise. But Luke kept believing, kept pushing him to serve a higher calling. He had to try.

He keeps trying. He keeps hoping. He keeps fighting the darkness, against impossible odds, against every obstacle and setback. Luke is the spirit of a scrappy Rebellion, the lone survivor of a lost order, the voice of his long-lost mother. His very name means "Light." He shines in the darkness.

Next time, two words that mean everything....

I am, of course, very fond of the sequence in which Luke secretly aids Threepio in his impersonation of a deity, thereby winning the Ewoks' complete respect and loyalty. With that, the droid who was once not very good at telling stories proceeds to give a thrilling account of the Rebellion's fight against the Empire. There are several delightful lines, from the bewildered Threepio's I never knew I had it in me to the various phrases of Ewok-ese that I quote with ridiculous frequency, to Han's sarcastic response to becoming honorary members of the tribe. But after all this merriment, it's time to shift into a serious tone.

At last we have that postponed conversation between Luke and Leia. Imagine how Luke must struggle to find the right words. Just found out my dad is the second-biggest bad guy in the galaxy. Oh, and he's your dad too. Surprise!

He takes a somewhat gentler route, asking if Leia remembers her mother. This is the very first mention we've ever had of "Mrs. Vader," and I was completely obsessed with it from my earliest memories of Episode VI. Of course we know Lucas's conception of her backstory was somewhat different back in 1983, and we could drive ourselves crazy wondering how Leia could possibly remember her mother when she didn't survive more than five minutes past Leia's birth. I'm not going down that path. How Leia describes it is so evocative, it rings true. Just images, really...feelings. It's not a pragmatic, tangible memory. It's a mystical, ineffable sensation, almost beyond the reach of conscious thought.

Luke urges her to tell whatever she can. You can hear the longing in his voice, as perhaps for the first time he has been reflecting on the tragedy of his unknown mother.

"She was very beautiful...and kind...but sad."

A description that holds true throughout the prequels. Yes, Padmé was beautiful, but I think Leia is recalling something different from physical loveliness. The beauty that baby Leia would have sensed is deeper than a pretty smile -- a part of that kindness, her determination and goodness. The boundless love that ultimately brought her boundless sadness.

Then Luke's reply. "I have no memory of my mother. I never knew her." Oh, but you do. Not in literal memories, but in the determination and goodness that she passed along to you. When he asserts his belief that there is still good in Vader, he speaks with his mother's voice.

I am certainly reading way more into this than was ever intended when the film first came out, but whatever. Luke and Leia miss their mother, yet she lives on through them, and I want to give all of them great big hugs.

Next, more feeeelings.....

Things are looking grim as our heroes search for Leia. Of course we know that she escaped the bike chase with her life, but all Han and Luke can find are wrecked speeders and a discarded helmet. Artoo can't find any trace of her either. Han has no wry or witty comments in this situation. It is a rare moment of simple, genuine concern.

"I hope she's all right."

Nothing deep or complicated here, but it's taken a long time for Han to get to this point. For so long, he professed not to care about anyone or anything other than his own needs. And he certainly never allowed a hint of vulnerability to mar his devil-may-care façade.

All that has changed. Han is softer now, allowing himself to form friendships and connections and meaningful relationships. With that comes the risk of getting hurt, of getting rejected or losing the ones you love. But it's a cost worth paying. The alternative is a life of loneliness, closed off from everything that makes living truly worthwhile. We could compare and contrast Han and Anakin, who both struggle to find the right balance of forming bonds without letting them destroy you. Han starts at the extreme of shutting everyone out, but gradually opens up and finds meaning there. Anakin has intensely close bonds from the beginning, then suffers all sorts of traumas that skew his sense of healthy attachment. He can't let go of anything, which ironically leads to the destruction of all his bonds, of everyone and everything that mattered to him. And yet the one tenuous bond he forms with Luke is the one that saves him.

Next time, it's a trap! (but not that one)....

After Han's little blunder, there follows a thrilling speeder chase. It's quite fascinating to learn the behind-the-scenes tricks that make this sequence look so convincing, though of course SFX aren't the subject of this series. Leia and Luke pursue the forest troopers, split up and defeat their enemies in various ways, and Leia ends up falling and getting knocked out.

She is awoken by a spear-bearing creature who would be quite terrifying...if he were three times bigger. It's comical, yes, but once Leia gets her bearings, her diplomatic instincts kick in. She doesn't fight him, even though her size would probably be enough to overpower an armed Ewok. She doesn't get angry, more just resigned that she's stuck in the forest with no idea how to rejoin the Rebels. And then she realizes this little guy could be an ally.

It's a simple exchange, but watch how deftly Leia navigates this encounter. She attempts to reassure him that she's not a threat. When his distrust, plus the language barrier, keep him anxious, she turns to something universal to all cultures -- food. She takes a bite herself and offers it to him. That gesture makes a huge difference. He's already beginning to warm up to her when she takes off her helmet and sends him into a frenzy again, so she gently explains its innocuous purpose. Then she muses:

"You're a jittery little thing, aren't you?"

Let's imagine the situation on Endor's moon. Perhaps it's been a year or so since strange monstrous birds descended from the sky, bringing faceless giants who tore down sections of the forest to build their towering shiny huts. If any Ewok ventured close, they would have been struck by deadly fire-weapons. Quickly they would have learned to keep out of sight, and dread any sign of a faceless giant approaching. Their hunting patterns would have been disrupted; all their trails and familiar paths would have to be rearranged. The lesson is clear. They cannot trust any giants.

Leia and the Rebels have their work cut out for them, if they want the Ewoks' help. But what a miracle it must seem, when these new giants actually show them kindness and peace. To show compassion rather than dismissing them as savage little nuisances, sweeping them aside like vermin. No wonder, once they're allied, the Ewoks fight so fiercely.

I'm not one of those detractors who think they were just invented to be cute teddy bear merchandise. They're a wonderful symbol of the power of defending your home and your way of life over cold, heartless imperialism. And that all begins with Leia's crucial first encounter.

Next, an interlude with the Sith....

A few quick scenes provide a rather ominous mood as our heroes embark on their perilous mission. First, Leia asks why Han is gazing moodily out at the Falcon, and he admits to a funny feeling like he'll never see the ship again. Many supposed that this should have foreshadowed one or both of Lando and Han's deaths, but no, that wasn't necessary. Lucas argued quite firmly (with the director, producer and co-screenwriter) that he didn't wanted to kill off any main characters, that he always disliked it when stories included deaths just to show how serious things were. Killing off Ben was a different matter; there were valid plot and character reasons for it. But Han has already made his heroic sacrifice, and now he's reborn. Killing Lando? It would just feel gratuitous.

Back to the main point -- sure, we're given ample reason to fear for Han and Lando's safety. Knowing of that peril makes it all the more satisfying when they survive. The following scene offers a different concern. The Emperor is sending Vader, with the Imperial fleet, to the far side of the moon. He disregards concerns about the Rebel gathering and claims that the Rebellion will soon be crushed. What does he know that our heroes don't? Something is not quite right here.

So we come to the stolen shuttle's arrival at Endor, and the tense exchange of a secret Imperial code. Will it work? Has the Empire been fooled?

Well. No. Because Vader can sense Luke's presence, plain as day. And the reverse is true.

"Vader is on that ship...I'm endangering the mission, I shouldn't have come."

This scene is deliciously intense. So much is happening on so many levels.

Han is a nervous wreck, trying to cover it with bravado. They're not gonna go for it. No, it's fine. Don't get jittery. Fly casual. (Another great line, though I won't devote an entire entry to it.) Chewie's irritated, questioning growls.

He has no idea. Leia is a little more aware. She knows something weird is going on with Luke and wishes he would tell her. She knows it's more than jitters making him wary of Vader.

And Luke. Wow. These are his only two lines in the whole scene, but his face speaks volumes. Vader, too, speaks little and says everything with his silence. The bizarre communion taking place between father and son. The alarm as Luke realizes their cover is blown. The long, long wait while Vader ponders and the Imperial officer sweats. Then, a grim declaration that he will deal with them himself.

So the shuffle passes the clearance and soars onward to its destination. Han breathes out in relief and claims that he knew it would work all along. Leia isn't so sure. Luke is filled with dread.

You can see the questions flying through his mind. Why did Vader let them by, when he knew the shuttle wasn't manned by Imperials? What is his plan? Is this part of a larger trap? Do the Rebels have any hope of succeeding as long as Vader can sense Luke?

As the answers play out, the plot deepens to something far more than Evil Empire vs. Good Rebellion. *Rubs hands together eagerly* Can't wait to dig in.

Next time, how not to infiltrate an Imperial base.....

Mon Mothma plays a relatively minor role in this film, limited to this scene, but even as a child I was struck by her quiet, warm authority and leadership. I've always kind of liked the idea of a revolving door of leadership in the Rebellion, whatever the out-of-universe reasons. First off, it means that the rebels are serving a cause, not a particular charismatic leader. Second, it suggests that leadership is such an enormous burden that no one carries it for long. Whether the past leaders were killed or just decided to retire, it's not a job that anyone keeps for years and years.

Anyway, she opens with the enticing idea of the Emperor's critical error, setting the stage for a decisive strike from the Rebellion. They have valuable information on the unfinished Death Star, and most significant is the knowledge at the Emperor himself is currently on the battle station. This knowledge was obtained at great price.

"Many Bothans died to bring us this information."

What's a Bothan? How did they die? Not necessary, though you're free to write a fan fic about it. (I'm sure Disney has considered building a whole movie around it, probably with some nonsense about how the Ewoks were actually genetically engineered to defeat stormtroopers thanks to some mole among the Empire's scientists. Blecccch.)

No, all we need is Mon Mothma's understated grief, the moment when she can scarcely speak as she refers to the sacrifice that brought them this intelligence. It's a glimpse at what it means to oppose the massive behemoth that is the Empire, the terrible costs that must be paid, that any Rebel has to know their life may be forfeit. So much emotion and meaning packed into such a tiny line, and then we're moving on. This is a brilliant economy of dialogue and storytelling. Just enough to serve its purpose, nothing more or less.

Next, a sign of true friendship...

This scene, though quite exposition-heavy, is really economical in telling us just enough backstory without dragging. We move swiftly from Obi-Wan's regret over failing as Anakin's teacher, on to the first surprising intimation that Luke has sensed good in Vader. Whether this is wishful thinking or something deeper will be explored later, as we then segue to Luke balking at the thought of killing his father, while Obi-Wan's You were our last hope provides a reason to address the 'other' Yoda mentioned.

Of course it's Leia, because we haven't been introduced to any other significant female characters around Luke's age. But within the story, imagine Luke's astonishment. That connection he's always felt with her -- on some level, he's always known. This revelation does lead to a lot of quibbling about their previous interactions, particularly the infamous kiss, but whatever. I feel like, for all that their sibling relationship wasn't planned until this film, it still works. It helps a lot that Mark and Carrie had a very brother-sister dynamic throughout the filming, while there was always far more romantic tension between Leia and Han. Or, er, Carrie and Harrison, but we'll leave it at that.

Luke has been alone, family-wise, ever since his uncle and aunt were killed. Finding out his true parentage wasn't exactly an improvement. But now, at last, he learns that he has a sister, already beloved to him, all the more precious with this newfound connection. He doesn't even need Ben to tell him explicitly. As soon as he searches his feelings, the truth becomes clear. But Obi-Wan has a warning about that.

"Your insight serves you well. Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit, but they could be made to serve the Emperor."

Seems a bit harsh. Like the Jedi Council condemning Anakin for missing his mother. Come on, let Luke feel a little softness at this life-changing discovery. But once again the concern proves to be prophetic. It will be Luke's connection with Leia that most imperils his soul during the showdown with Vader and the Emperor.

So...bury your feelings deep down? Suppress them? Or does it have a more metaphysical meaning, in terms of hiding their existence from the psychic intrusion of the Sith? I hope Obi-Wan has learned to take the old Council's teachings with a little grain of salt. Anakin tried to suppress his feelings, and it didn't go well. Maybe Obi-Wan figures he just didn't suppress them enough, I don't know. We can speculate all day about this. In any case, I find it deeply intriguing that Luke's feelings are both his greatest weakness and, ultimately, his greatness strength. As paradoxical as it might seem, there is power in vulnerability. The Sith seek dominance, control, compulsion. The true Jedi way is passive, meek and yielding. To overcome not by force (with a lowercase f) but by unconditional love and compassion.

Next, a new dynamic between old friends....