The Empire Strikes Back

In this series, I plan to go back a examine all those bits of pop culture that have most heavily influenced who I am and what I like. And I will try to keep it in autobiographical order. Mostly, I will be talking about movies. But also some TV shows. And a few musical artists.

I remember a lot about my early movie-going experiences. I remember I had to sit on the seat in its upright position so that I could see over the crowd. I remember always getting popcorn and the salt would sting my lips. I remember that there was only one movie I would not sit still for and had to be dragged out of. However, I don’t remember the name of that movie. All I remember is that it was about a Pegasus in a barn.

I also remember a few moments when I first saw Star Wars. The audience laughed at the “These are not the droids you’re looking for,” scene. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t get it. Also, I was three at the time. I also remember asking one of my parents what the characters were talking about when they talked about the Force. I will never forget the answer (although I’ve forgotten which parent had the answer). He/She told me, “God”. Although I’ve never believed in God, that answer made sense to me.

I also remember a bit about seeing The Empire Strikes Back. To be exact, I remember actually getting a joke. As Han Solo is about to incased in carbonite, Leia confesses to Solo, “I love you.” He stoically replies, “I know.” I laughed. The audience laughed. I was thrilled that we both laughed together. We laughed and laughed.

I don’t know how, but Star Wars was a major part of my life as a kid. I only saw each of the movies once in a theater (my parents have never understood why I would want to see a movie more than once), and the movies didn’t get played on television much. Still, my friends and I referenced Star Wars constantly. I had two dozen action figures, but they were always random bizarre characters that my parents bought. (Thanks for the Hammerhead action figure, Mom!)

I always had different taste than the other kids. So when I would declare my love for The Empire Strikes Back as my favorite Star Wars movie, I was always shouted down. Empire sucks. Star Wars or Return of the Jedi got all the love. In the years since, Empire has come to be the critic favorite of the Star Wars franchise. The reasoning usually revolves around how much more mature the characters are in this installment – which is true. It’s also mentioned that Empire does not depict war as a parade of soaring victories, but instead it is presented as something dire and dark and with consequences and casualties. Even won battles had consequences. Also true, and also very welcome by me. It also drops the hedonistic comic book gloss the other two movies have. And of course, there’s the mother of all plot twist. I’m being sincere (if not a bit hyperbolic) when I say that in a single sentence, movies were changed forever.

When Vader makes his infamous revelation to Luke, he catapults Star Wars from the realm of high priced genre filck, to soapy serial with a deep, mysterious backstory. In this moment, a character who was the walking epitome of one-note darkness, becomes a multi-faceted figure of high tragedy. This was big stuff folks, and god damnit, I don’t remember my reaction to this bit of information. Did I already know this going in? Maybe. I don’t remember. As a bit of shock plot revelation, I don’t know how this weighed on me. And it is nearly impossible to find someone who doesn’t already know about this. It just seems as if it has always been this way.

But as a story-telling device, Darth Vader’s confession splits apart the story of Star Wars like a dam bursting open. These were no longer stock characters we were dealing with. There was a story that existed beyond the opening and closing titles.

But this is all stuff I appreciate as an adult. What drew me to Empire as a kid? The nightmarish imagery. The grandeur foreboding. And the cliffhanger ending. There is so much visual horror that remains seared in my mind. The movie is full of rampant dismemberments. Luke loses his hand. A tauntaun gets sliced open and its stomach and intestines spill out. The snow beast gets its arm sliced off. In a vision Luke decapitates Vader. And in one of my favorite scenes C3PO gets blasted to pieces and lugged around in a backpack. The C3PO scene starts as 3PO spots a similar droid who who spits out some indescernable profanity. “How rude!” exclaims C3PO before investigating a corridor and getting blasted to pieces. Later, when Chewbacca reconnects 3PO’s head to his body (backwards, I might add) 3PO comes to life and gives his belated warning – as if from the dead. “Stormtroopers? Here? Oh, no! I’ve been shot!”

And there’s plenty more dark imagery to haunt the mind. The funeral procession of Solo’s corpse being paraded through the stark sets of Cloud City. The creepy puppet (why don’t more movies use puppets as characters!) Yoda’s whispery response to Luke’s assertion that he’s not scared. “You will be. You. Will. Be.” And the dark running joke in which Vader magically strangles a chain of officers who fail him. Even the camera behaves differently. Shot with low angles and darker cinematography.

What often fails to be mentioned is the nature of the creature that is Empire Strikes Back. It is the middle child of a trilogy. Most of the criticism the movie received in its initial release focused on how the movie has no beginning and no end. Of course, it DOES have a beginning and end, but neither is definitive and absolute. The movie does not reintroduce its characters. It does not assure the audience of their fate at the end, Empire does not coddle the audience in the slightest. And THAT is what I love about it. It doesn’t waste any time setting things up. It doesn’t feel the need to tie up loose ends. It just exists as much as it needs to.

It’s a bold way to tell a story. The writers and director assumed the audience knew as much as they needed to, and they assumed the audience would understand that the story would extend beyond the credits. As a result, the story seems bigger, uncontainable, and not easily brushed away. The story lingers, leaving you to wonder what will happen next. For ten whole minutes after my first screening of Empire, and I was sick to death about what would happen to Han Solo. Maybe even longer. I wasn’t too worried, but let me tell you, it weighed on me. Movies rarely do this. They don’t end ambiguously. They don’t assume the audience can remember small details from one installment to the next. They don’t grow darker, but Empire did.

It is from Empire, that my love for the mid-point of trilogies exists. From The Two Towers, to Back to the Future II, to X2, to Spider-Man 2. The movies that open and close with unresolved conflicts and tensions remain my favorite. And it is precisely for this reason that I came to love The Pirates of Caribbean movies. That second movie that left everything in chaos and dragged the happy ending of the first movie through the mud. As the Harry Potter movies continue, they grow more and more like Empire: dark, unresolved, and rife with casualties.

The first movie is just like any other movie. The last movie is often a let down. But that second movie, that one can raise the bar and turn an ordinary story into a juggernaut. This also extends to TV series. I love serialized shows that build and build, add layer upon layer, and grow darker and darker. I would like to thank Empire right now for inspiring a new generation of filmmakers to take their stories to the next level.