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"Phantom Menace" further deepens the spiritual Star Wars saga[part four in a series of five articles celebrating the Star Wars prequel]
By Steve Lansingh
I've spent the last few days trying to collect my thoughts and figure out how exactly I'd review "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace." The first time I watched it I was so overwhelmed that my entire critical reaction was: "Aw, cool!" It took me another viewing to fully engage it and begin to isolate dominant themes and spiritual parallels. But, knowing that "The Phantom Menace" will be debated and deconstructed for decades to come, I felt helpless to add any meaningful perspective to the conversation at that point. So I read the novelization of the story to slow down the roller coaster and dwell on the characters more deeply. The review I've come up with might be a bit patchy -- part fanboy, part objective critic -- but I hope it will enhance the film for any Christian seeking truth in movies.
The foremost thing to keep in mind when going to see "The Phantom Menace" is that it's not your typical Star Wars film. The Star Wars movies are, at their core, a classic tale of good vs. evil, but in this first episode evil is still just a shadowy presence (as the title explicitly states -- for some reason, many kvetching critics have ignored this completely). Therefore, there is little inner conflict within characters as there was in Luke Skywalker in the original trilogy. That robs the story of some weight, to be sure, but only if "The Phantom Menace" was to be taken on its own terms. In actuality, the film is only part one of a 6-hour-long story (again, as its title implies), just as "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi" were one 4-hour-long story. George Lucas has repeatedly said that the Star Wars movies are a glorified serial, broken up into segments but intended to be viewed as a whole. This first installment contains mostly rising action, setting up the conflicts to follow. Although it's the most lightweight episode, knowing that the dreadful Empire is birthed out of the well-intentioned actions of the characters in this movie brings a touch of gravity to it.
The second time I saw the movie I realized that we're watching not only an innocent turn evil, but we're seeing an evil man's innocence. Darth Vader, who was once considered the embodiment of evil, is now revealed as human. The biggest beef I have with the art of cinema is its tendency to caricature, stereotype, or otherwise minimize its characters for the sake of a two-hour running time. A true artist is lucky to form a single fully realized human in a typical movie without demonizing or deifying the person. Who knew, then, that Star Wars -- a movie series in which the battle lines between good and evil were clearly drawn -- would give us perhaps the most complete and empathetic portrait of a villain the movies have shown? If I can see that even the vile Darth Vader once walked in the light, and that even at his worst there was "still some good in him," then how much more should I look for the humanity in my enemies? If the life story and the intentions of every person I knew were transparent before me, would I still sit in judgment of anyone? I don't think so. I've found that whenever I get a chance to talk from the heart with someone, I lose any judgment or contempt I'd had and find it replaced with empathy or protectiveness. In the exchange of secrets, I think, we find that we are not so different from each other. As you listen to others tell their secrets, Frederick Buechner says, "you hear among other things your own secrets on their lips."
This question can lead us in many directions and toward many spiritual comparisons. On one plane, if Anakin is "chosen" by fate or the force, then his life story speaks highly of the power of free will. Perhaps it gives us insight as to how God can accomplish his preordained will in our lives while we make our own choices: the destruction we wreak is ours, and the redemption is his. On another plane, perhaps the destruction of the Jedi Council is what it takes to bring balance to the force. Jesus, who was the real-life prophesied chosen one, eliminated the role of the priest as the path to God, becoming a priest for us. He upset the Pharisees, who thought they'd figured out all the rules for pleasing God when in fact their hearts were not right. Jesus' coming was a painful period of readjustment for Jewish society as redemption was opened to all. Lucas has given a pharisaic sheen to the council -- they're rule-followers and work in conjunction with the bureaucratic Senate. So maybe what Lucas is trying to say here is that redemption comes with a price; peace requires a great sacrifice.
I hope some of these questions are helpful filters to watch the movie through, and that they will help you discuss the movie with other Christians in the coming month. I also hope it's spoiler-free enough that you're still overwhelmed enough to exit the movie saying, "Aw, cool!"
I suppose that's what I loved best about "The Phantom Menace" -- the lesson that the path to destruction is paved with good intentions. Watching 9-year-old Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd) scamper about on-screen, yearning to become a Jedi Knight and giving what he has selflessly to others, I was in disbelief that he would eventually become the Dark Lord of the Sith. The first time I saw the film I recognized that Anakin's life is a warning to us -- a reminder that at our most innocent and selfless we are still never far from following the dark side. It reminds us that our eyes deceive us, that our foresight is short.
But where "The Phantom Menace" most radically alters the Star Wars universe is the implication that Anakin Skywalker is "the chosen one." Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson), an independent and impulsive Jedi Knight who carries the storyline, finds Anakin on his home planet of Tatooine and presents him before the 12-member Jedi Council as the possible fulfillment of the ancient prophecy of a Jedi who will bring balance to the Force. Qui-Gon makes this assertion based on Anakin's high concentration of midi-clorians -- microscopic organisms that help someone tune into the Force -- and the fact that he was apparently a virgin birth. (This has raised eyebrows of both Christian and secular critics, but I'm not altogether sure that future installments will support Anakin's mother's claim. The rumor mill is already suggesting that Darth Sidious had something to do with Anakin's conception, plus the fact that several "known facts" in the original "Star Wars" were untrue -- like the identity of Luke's father -- makes me wonder if this tidbit will hold up.) If indeed Anakin is the chosen one, however, as Qui-Gon suggests, this adds a new dimension to the Star Wars universe. We already know that Darth Vader vanquishes the remainder of the Sith Lords, but in the process almost all of the Jedi are wiped out, leaving only Luke and Leia. If he is the "chosen one," then isn't that quite a high price to pay?
Another parallel we might wonder about is whether there is a balance to our faith the same way there is a "balance to the force." The novelization of the movie, written by Terry Brooks, explores the philosophy of the Jedi in more detail, revealing that Jedi try to balance their connection with both the living force (the immediate concerns) and the unifying force (concerns of the future and of others who would be affected by an action). Qui-Gon isn't on the Council because he leans too often toward the living force, thinking only of the present and not of the future. This isn't necessarily a bad thing -- it makes him empathetic to helpless creatures like Anakin and Jar Jar Binks, and his willingness to help them pays off. But it also blinds him to potential dangers, such as the danger that Anakin holds. I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say we face the same see-saw battle in our faith. (Don't get me wrong, though -- I don't think "Star Wars" is a valid theology, just that some of its spiritual themes parallel the Christian faith and we can learn from them.) I think I'm a lot like Qui-Gon, thinking of the here and now. I am very willing to take on someone's cause -- in addition to my mission with this web site, I'm also working hard to promote my church's vision and my boss' vision at work -- perhaps at the risk of spreading myself too thin and losing touch with my personal walk. I don't think ahead to that logical conclusion sometimes. Also, as I described earlier, I am very willing to be sympathetic toward my brothers and sisters in Christ who are broken and human and trapped in sin. But I don't often look ahead to see that constantly telling someone that we all sin and we understand what that's like will not help that person get out of the habit of sinning. This, more than anything else, is what "The Phantom Menace" convicted me to work on.