You've surely heard by now that there's a new Star Wars movie opening this week. I see that many people are marathoning the previous six movies in preparation.
As a kid I devoured every book, article, interview or documentary I
could find about how Star Wars came to be, what its themes are, how the effects
were done. Star Wars, to me, was always something that somebody made, and I was
always on the side of the person who made it and interested in what he was
trying to achieve.
But I think many other viewers prefer to accept invented universes like
Star Wars at face value, and to acknowledge the writer or director only when
it’s time to blame someone for something they didn’t like. This is aided by the
fact that, more and more, science fiction and fantasy films and TV shows are
based on existing properties, making it easier for viewers to feel that they
know in advance how the story should go and that the filmmaker or showrunner
will get it wrong.
In defiance of this trend, I decided that instead of marathoning the
previous six movies (something I’ve already done anyway), I would marathon the
“making of” documentaries, and revisit the Star Wars saga from a behind-the-scenes
perspective. In doing so I hope to champion the creativity and hard work of the
people who made them.
(Disclaimer: I don’t have a player to watch the Blu-ray features, so my
marathon will be limited to what’s on DVD, on the internet, or in my personal
collection. Also, the prequel DVDs are loaded to the gills with bonus features,
so in the interest of time and sanity I limited myself to one or two
documentaries for each prequel.)
THE BEGINNING: MAKING EPISODE I (2001)
Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace is widely criticized for its
lack of realism, so what’s fascinating about the making-of documentary The
Beginning is how raw it is. It has no narration, no background music, no
talking-head studio interviews, no fancy graphics or transitions. There is some
occasional plain text telling you what the location is, what the date is, or
how many weeks are left before the movie comes out, but otherwise this is
fly-on-the-wall footage of the film’s planning, shooting and editing, presented
without comment.
The upcoming Episode VII will be the first Star Wars movie made without
its original creator, so it’s poignant that my marathon would start here. The documentary
opens with Lucas being interviewed on 60 Minutes, explaining that the “auteur”
theory is true, that movies resemble their makers, and that he to have a strong
emotional commitment to these films in order to make them.
A scene in Episode I that’s grown on me over the years is the one where
Anakin Skywalker’s loving mother sends her young son off to new adventures with
the words “Don’t look back.” It’s a scene I now find moving, since the other
two prequels have provided clearer knowledge of how painfully the adult Anakin
would fail to live up to his early potential. I bring this up because The
Beginning has the heartbreaking real-life equivalent – we see little Jake Lloyd
excitedly signs the contract to play Anakin, while his female agent tells him
how proud she is, surely assuming her young client is destined for stardom. (If
you don’t know what later became of Jake Lloyd – who even changed his name! –
I’ll just say that his Wikipedia page is a sad read.)
Contrary to Episode I’s reputation as an exercise in CGI overkill, we
see the extensive use of audio-animatronic creatures, large physical sets, and
arduous location shooting under difficult weather conditions. Lucas is seen to
be a very hands-on director, consistently involved in every creative decision.
Still, rewatching this documentary leads me to suspect that many of
Episode I’s problems result from Lucas’ preference for directing films in
post-production rather than on the set.
When Lucas is reviewing the finalists for the role of the young Anakin,
he says he is trying to decide between one kid who is pretty good all the time,
and another kid who is more hit-and-miss but has brilliant moments that could
be combined in editing. Later in the film, editor Ben Burtt sounds slightly
frustrated by Lucas’ desire to try to re-direct a film in post-production;
Burtt points out that in the old days one would reject a take that had
something wrong with it, and that the ability to digitally combine different
details from different takes has now made the editing process more challenging.
If Lucas likes a certain type of performance, and is able to
cherry-pick every element of a take or scene that fits that preference, that
may explain why the performances in Episode I seem so monotone. I would also
argue that if the finished CGI had kept more of actor Ahmed Best’s on-set
physicality, without exaggerating his character’s movements and facial reactions
to such a cartoony degree, Jar Jar would have seemed less grotesque.
In any case, Burtt’s grumbling is one of only two scenes in the
documentary that indicate creative difficulty behind the scenes (even though it
was made for Episode I’s belated DVD release, by which time the film’s reputation
as a disappointment was set in stone). The other, more famous moment is when
Lucas and company review a rough cut of the film and are concerned about how to
salvage it. Lucas is concerned that things move too fast (“if it’s fast for us,
a regular person is going to go nuts”) and that it might be possible to reduce
this. It’s unclear whether Lucas is referring just to the action climax, or to
the movie as a whole. If it’s the latter, his attempts to slow things down
might explain why the pace of the exposition scenes in Episode I feel a bit
sluggish.
Lucas’ attitude through the film seesaws between optimism and caution.
I’m fond of the scene where he pragmatically observes that the sequel to
American Graffiti was a box-office failure, and that “you can destroy these
things – it is possible.”
Fun fact: Swear words (mainly from producer Rick McCallum) are bleeped
throughout the documentary, but they missed one. After executing a stunt, actor
Ewan MacGregor says that when he was offered Star Wars his response was “Too
f**king right!”
The Beginning won’t convince anyone to love Episode I, but it’s a good
glimpse into the filmmaking process from beginning to end. Seeing and hearing a
full chorus belting out “Duel of the Fates” is a particular highlight.
FROM PUPPETS TO PIXELS: DIGITAL CHARACTERS IN EPISODE II (2002)
"STORY" (2002)
The DVD for Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones doesn’t
clearly identify one of its bonus features as a primary “making-of”. There are
two “Documentaries” and three “Featurettes”, so I watched one of each.
The documentary From Puppets to Pixels has the same minimalist approach
as The Beginning. The emphasis this time is on the challenge of creating
convincing digital characters, specifically the new digital Yoda as well as
Obi-wan’s four-armed friend Dexter.
My favorite moment is when Lucas and his animation director are arguing
the subtleties of how sad or worried that the digital Yoda should look when
delivering the line “Begun, the Clone War has.” This animation had apparently
gone through several unsatisfactory iterations by this point, and Lucas seems
to be struggling to keep his sense of humor about a shot that is now trying his
patience.
Like The Beginning, this documentary provides glimpses into the
filmmaking process from filming to editing. However, this time we only see two
of the main actors at work (Ewan MacGregor and the late, great Christopher Lee)
and that alone makes it feel less comprehensive than The Beginning.
By contrast, the featurette “Story” is a more conventional piece that
has talking-head clips of Lucas and the main cast discussing the important
story developments that occur in Episode II (a film that many fans like to
insist has no story). Samuel L. Jackson states that this film will be a return
to the swashbuckling spirit of the original films. I found this statement
curious, since if anything Episode I was the more light-hearted film and
Episode II is the one that plunges into darker territory. But it’s interesting
as an indirect acknowledgement that the previous Star Wars film was not
universally well-received.
WITHIN A MINUTE: THE MAKING OF EPISODE III (2005)
“THE CHOSEN ONE” (2005)
Within a Minute, the making-of documentary for Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the
Sith, is an interesting departure from those for the previous prequels.
Stylistically it’s more conventional in its use of interviews, graphics and
music, but its content is very different. It follows a single minute-long
section of the movie through the entire filmmaking process from beginning to
end, taking pains to emphasize how many people are involved and how many
decisions are made along the way – from scripting and planning and filming, to
special effects and sound design and music.
Whereas The Beginning opened with Lucas discussing the auteur theory,
Within a Minute celebrates all the individuals who contribute to making a film.
Each subsection of the movie includes a scroll of all the names involved in
that part of the process. The roll-call of animators actually includes two guys
I knew at RIT – Brian Cantwell (who is interviewed on-camera) and Kurt Nellis. The
film even covers the people who never get covered in making-of documentaries,
such as the caterers and the people who handle payroll.
The section of Episode III that was chosen for analysis is a minute-long
portion of the climactic lightsaber duel between Anakin and Obi-wan, as they
fight atop a large structure that breaks apart and falls onto the sea of lava
beneath them. This battle was a famous piece of unseen backstory for years
before the prequels were made, and all involved seem excited at the prospect of
bringing this legendary moment to life.
I love Episode III but am aware that many people do not. This conflict
made me squirm a bit at producer Rick McCallum’s obvious pride in the work on
display here. I think his pride is justified but I could mentally hear Internet
trolls snickering at his every declaration.
The shorter documentary “The Chosen One” is less about the production
process and more about the creative development of the character of Anakin
Skywalker/Darth Vader, and how Episode III completes the story that is
developed in the other five films to date. We get talking-head quotes from
Lucas and Hayden Christensen, as well as on-set footage of Lucas directing
Christensen and explaining the character’s motivation. The moment of
Christensen walking on-set in the final Vader costume is understandably treated
as a major event, with the crew applauding and Christensen later recalling the
event as something he will not soon forget.
(Also, in a recap clip from Episode I, the puppet Yoda is replaced with
the digital Yoda seen in Episode II and III. This was still a few years before
was Episode I was re-released in 3D and on Blu-ray, with the new Yoda fully
implemented by then.)
Episode III was not only the final Star Wars prequel, but – as far as
anyone knew at the time – the final Star Wars movie ever. Many of the people in
these documentaries – including Rick McCallum, Ben Burtt, and animation
director Rob Coleman – had been working together for a decade. Within a Minute
and “The Chosen One” show this project coming to its natural end, yet no one is
seen to express emotion or melancholy at this. Instead, the filmmakers are
excited to be part of a piece of history (as the Star Wars saga is finally
complete) and express a sense of victory and accomplishment. It’s almost as if
they knew that the story was just beginning.
Which leads me to…
STAR WARS BEGINS (2011)
I had originally planned to just marathon the official “making-of”
documentaries – the DVD extras for the prequels, and the TV specials that
accompanied the release of the original films. However, I remembered that a fan
named Jamie Benning had made a series of documentaries about the original Star
Wars trilogy, by intercutting each film with behind-the-scenes footage as well
as audio-only interview material from various sources. I’d never gotten around
to actually watching one of them, so I decided that now would be a good time.
So I watched Star Wars Begins, Benning’s 2-hour-and-19-minute interlacing of
the original Star Wars with behind-the-scenes content.
I’ve always been fascinated by the development of the original 1977
film, the one we now call Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. All the other
films have had a successful proof-of-concept to follow, but this is the one
that began as just a vague notion in Lucas’ head of swords and capes and ray
guns, an ultimately world-changing idea that he struggled to develop through four
very different drafts. Studio heads struggled to understand Lucas’ concept, the
production of the film was famously difficult, the rough cut of the film was
deemed a disaster and had to be extensively reworked, and entirely new special
effects technology had to be developed in order to complete the film.
However, little of that seems to come through in Star Wars Begins.
Occasionally an archive quote will mention how stressed and unhappy Lucas seemed
to be during production, but the focus seems to be more on minor trivia –
alternate takes, redubbed lines, what the camera and crew looked like when a
particular scene was being shot.
The film doesn’t have an obvious point of view – it is basically other
people’s documentaries and interviews stitched together in script order. Onscreen
text (often with typos) will sometimes throw in an interesting factoid, and
also identifies who is speaking in an audio clip and what year their quote is
taken from. Any time a quote was from 2004 I recognized it from the original
trilogy’s DVD release – either from the commentary track, or from the
accompanying DVD extra Empire of Dreams – and I recognized a lot of
behind-the-scenes footage from Empire of Dreams as well.
However, there were also some clips I didn’t recognize and some
anecdotes I hadn’t heard. I was impressed to hear quotes from Alec Guinness and
Peter Cushing, who seem to have seldom been recorded speaking about their most
widely seen roles. So Benning and/or his Internet friends (thanked in the
credits) did an impressive amount of research, even if the resulting “documentary”
is no more than the sum of its parts.
The most interesting thing about Star Wars Begins is that it provides a
glimpse of how the original version of Episode IV would have played with its
most famous deleted scenes integrated back into it. These scenes include early
cutaways of Luke Skywalker (before he meets Artoo and Threepio); a few shots of
Han with an unidentified female companion who leaves when Luke and Obi-wan meet
with him; and of course Han confronting the original, human, fur-wearing version
of Jabba the Hutt.
Some fans would love to see the early scenes of Luke and his friend
Biggs (who appears in the finished film only as a Rebel X-wing pilot during the
finale) actually edited into the film. Seeing these scenes placed in their
original context, though, I think Lucas (or the studio?) was right to cut them.
As released, the original film opens in the middle of a conflict that
is only partly explained to the audience, and gets away with this by telling
the story from the point of view of two robots who also are unclear what’s
going on. To cut away to seemingly unrelated characters in a strange
environment talking about the Academy, the Empire and the Rebel Alliance would
probably have confused the hell out of 1977 audiences who – remember – had not
seen Star Wars before and did not already understand this universe.
However, watching the dialogue between Luke and Biggs is interesting
for another reason. After the prequels, Lucas gained a reputation as being
inept at directing actors. It’s tempting to look back at some irreverent quotes
from the original trilogy’s lead actors, and the knowledge that Episode IV had
to be salvaged in editing (largely with the help of his then-wife Marcia), and conclude
that Lucas was always deficient in this area. However, the Luke-and-Biggs
material – which plays out in lengthy medium- and wide shots – is well-played
by both actors, and the prequel documentaries show Lucas working closely with his
actors (and animators, in the case of digital creatures) to shape a character’s
performance. So this supports my aforementioned theory that the digital-era
Lucas is not necessarily a bad director of actors while on set, but perhaps
pushes out too much of their spontaneity in his editing choices.
Star Wars Begins was a little frustrating in that I wanted to see more
of Episode IV’s birth pangs and not just random trivia. But I hadn’t planned to
actually rewatch the movies in this marathon, so it was cool to find myself
accidentally rewatching the original movie in this exploded, deconstructed
version.
THE MAKING OF STAR WARS (1977)
This hour-long documentary aired on ABC on September 16, 1977. It was
scripted by Time critic Richard Schickel, with narration by William Conrad and
some jokey in-character commentary from Artoo-Detoo and See-Threepio (well, by
See-Threepio anyway). The Artoo/Threepio material is corny and inconsistent –
sometimes the droids seem to be recalling the film’s characters and events as
if they were real, and sometimes they are recalling the experience of being
actors in the movie.
I probably did see this at a very young age. I have a dim childhood
memory of seeing the droids on a white sci-fi set when Threepio makes some kind
of meta comment about the movie, and while I long pictured that set as being
the blockade runner from the beginning of Episode IV, I now believe I’m
remembering the set on which the droids appear in the host segments of this
documentary. I don’t know for sure whether this set was built especially for
this documentary or was left over from something else, but it’s very detailed
and retro-awesome.
The bulk of the film is narrated behind-the-scenes footage narrated by
Conrad, framed by occasional cutaways to Artoo and Threepio. There are very
brief interview clips of Alec Guinness (clearly made during shooting, as he’s
in costume and on set), Harrison Ford (in a boat for some reason), Carrie
Fisher (in a video arcade!), George Lucas, a VERY long-haired Mark Hamill, and
producer Gary Kurtz.
Despite – or because of – the thermonuclear levels of cheese in this
documentary, I found myself holding back tears at its extreme simplicity and
innocence. When this TV special aired, Star Wars – though already the
highest-grossing film of all time – was less than four months old. Its
footprints in the world were still fresh. The narration re-explains the entire
film to its audience, and every major scene is shown, in case viewers did not
remember the broad outlines of the plot. Lucas explains – perhaps for the first
time on-camera – his desire to tell a more innocent adventure story, as well
the religious concept behind the Force. Clips of old movies helpfully
illustrate Star Wars’ roots in Flash Gordon serials, WW II dogfight movies,
swashbucklers, and Westerns.
Near the end, Fisher mentions that there is talk of the next Star Wars
being set on “an ice planet”, and also “a tropical planet” similar to the moon
of Yavin (the misty rebel base seen in the original film), which is a startling
indicator of just how early the broadest outlines of The Empire Strikes Back
were being determined.
The closing narration, accompanying the famous scene of Luke gazing at
the twin sunset, ends with “The magic of Star Wars does not lie only in its
brilliant special effects. Its power derives from something simpler and rarer:
the romantic spirit that moves in it. Before it we are all young again, and
everything seems possible.”
If you watch this old TV special and are able to hold it together at
that moment, you are made of sterner stuff than I. But it is Threepio who gets
the last word when he rhetorically asks, “Where will it all end? Perhaps,
Artoo, it will never end.”
I will always defend the prequels for their ambition, and for taking
the innocent Star Wars universe into more adult and troubling waters. But
watching this hokey documentary put me in the right frame of childlike
innocence to remind me what Star Wars means to the rest of my generation.
SP FX: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK (1980)
I DEFINITELY remember watching this one as a kid, as it is basically
Mark Hamill saying “Young Curt, I order you to make a movie” for forty-plus
minutes straight.
Ostensibly a documentary about the special effects in Star Wars:
Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back, SP FX is really a celebration of the art
of special effects in general. Hamill’s narration (again written by Richard
Schickel) frequently waxes poetic about the power of effects to transport us to
realms of imagination, freedom, and possibility.
This TV special includes clips from many celebrated fantasy and science
fiction films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey, King Kong, The Thief of Baghdad, and even A Trip to
the Moon (that’s the silent film where the rocket lands in the eye of the
moon). But it’s the inclusion of clips from amateur stop-motion movies by child
filmmakers (at about the 10- and 35-minute marks) that seared themselves into
my young psyche. Rewatching those clips now, it’s startling to see that one of
the films was made with paper cutouts and that the filmmakers named in the film
were between 11 and 17 years of age. It so happens that, years later, I made a
stop-motion paper cutout movie when I was between 13 and 15.
There are only a couple of brief interview clips, from Peter Mayhew
(who played Chewbacca) and sound designer Ben Burtt. Otherwise it’s all Hamill
talking about how inspiring and wonderful special effects are.
I’m sure many prequel haters will seize on Hamill’s closing speech that
“In the end, a special effect is just a special effect. If it isn’t surrounded
by people we care about, if it doesn’t serve a story that moves and involves us,
and if above all it doesn’t help us to grasp some larger imaginative vision,
then it’s just a trick, a gimmick.” But while I agree that the prequels falter
on the first point they still manage the latter two, at least for me. Which I
guess puts me in the role of Artoo-Detoo, who rolls onscreen at that point to
tell Hamill to give it a rest.
“The Star Wars saga will continue,” concludes Hammer. “In the largest
sense, it can never end, because imagination has no end.” Okay, Schickel,
you’re starting to repeat yourself. Otherwise you did a hell of a number on my
younger self. Good job.
FROM STAR WARS TO JEDI: THE MAKING OF A SAGA (1983)
In late 1983, two Star Wars documentaries aired within a few weeks of
each other. The first was Classic Creatures: Return of the Jedi, hosted by
Carrie Fisher and Billy Dee Williams. But I couldn’t find a complete copy of that
one on YouTube and thus had to skip it for this marathon. So I’ll stick with
the second and far superior From Star Wars to Jedi: The Making of a Saga.
Like the two earlier specials, From Star Wars to Jedi is narrated by
Mark Hamill and written by Richard Schickel. And again, we see plenty of on-set
footage of the latest movie (in this case Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the
Jedi), primarily filming Jabba’s lair (with brief input from Jabba’s
puppetters) and the Ewok village.
But compared to the two earlier TV specials, this one doesn’t gush
about the wonder of cinema, or show any clips from older films in order to
explain and justify the tradition it’s working in. Instead, Star Wars is now
firmly established as an end in itself, as Lucas gives one of his first and
most extensive platforms to explain his theories of what the overall Star Wars
saga is all about. The film regularly cuts to Lucas sitting in front of a leafy
plant somewhere, explaining his thoughts and ideas as well as his disappointment
at things that didn’t live up to his aspirations due to technical limitations.
“In his mind,” says the narration, “George Lucas was jumping to hyperspace long
before he visualized the process for the rest of us.” Lucas himself also
asserted to my younger self the integrity that artists must have when he said
that “that’s the way it should be, and if the public can’t deal with it, then
what can I do it? … The film is about human frailties, it’s not about monsters.”
While I only have dim childhood memories of the two previous
documentaries, I was able to record From Star Wars to Jedi off cable TV on VHS
and subsequently rewatched it many, many times while developing my own
filmmaking. During those repeat viewings I was fascinated to hear Lucas
describe the development process of Star Wars, to see abandoned concepts (this
must be where the human-Jabba footage from the original Star Wars was first
shown publicly), and to hear Hamill’s narration explain the themes and
mythology behind Star Wars. So I’m always baffled to encounter those who loved
the Star Wars movies as much as I did but whose love never drove them to
explore what made them tick.
Lucas talks about his attempts to explore how fast-paced a movie can be
before it becomes incomprehensible, which ties in interestingly with his
reaction to the rough cut of the “earlier” Episode I. He then adds that success
has made his personal life more intense, which is a sadder statement when you
consider that the time and energy he devoted to the Star Wars trilogy led to
him becoming divorced.
This docu-marathon began with an older Lucas describing how films are the
embodiments of their creators. By contrast, From Star Wars to Jedi has a final
post-credit shot of Lucas getting on a plane and waving goodbye. “As attractive
as the Star Wars world is, sooner or later you have to leave home and go on to
some other place.”
And so the saga continues, for others to tend.