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Post by Cryogenic on Apr 30, 2021 0:35:58 GMT
A very obvious and pretty plain question -- or is it?
It's not about the mission, Master. It's something elsewhere... elusive.
If you've got any answers, any particular insights, no matter how big or small, drop them here.
Perhaps I should explain what I mean by "different". Well, I don't really know (that's useful, isn't it?). But I suppose, what I'm driving at, or gesturing towards, is that mysterious "x-factor" (no royalties are going to Simon Cowell) that keeps us fixated on them, always getting pulled back in, or just plain frustrated by our perpetual inability -- to paraphrase "Blade Runner" (which the prequels seem to have a lot in common with) -- to scratch that itch.
This almost gets parodied, in fact, in Episode III. Well, of course "this" gets parodied (this = sith), but... "That isn't exactly what I meant." No, I meant more:
PADME: What is it?
ANAKIN: Nothing.
See what I mean? What *is* it?
PADME: Don't do this. Don't shut me out.
Yep... Don't shut out whatever the blue bantha Padme is meant to represent. The mysterious feminine of Star Wars (often looked at as a "masculine" franchise) overall?
The PT always seems to be in dialogue with itself, playing some elaborate, meta game of hide-and-seek, about its own weirdness and otherness. "Jar Jar is the key to all this."
So what are the attractive, fantastical, beautiful, bizarre, or plain neat-o qualities that keep bringing you back to the prequel well for more? What sets these movies apart? What are the "macro" and the "micro" elements that keep you fired up and enchanted?
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Post by Moonshield on Apr 30, 2021 9:03:05 GMT
Lucas's talent
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Post by Subtext Mining on Apr 30, 2021 9:40:07 GMT
Combined with the technological ability to do whatever he imagined. Largely why I consider Episodes I and II the purest forms of Star Wars. |
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Post by Ingram on Apr 30, 2021 9:43:28 GMT
For the most part, they're indifferent to the audience. A movieverse that exists entirely in-world, on it's own terms.
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Post by Pyrogenic on Apr 30, 2021 12:27:10 GMT
For the most part, they're indifferent to the audience. A movieverse that exists entirely in-world, on it's own terms.
That, and/but they’re on another level of, compared to practically anything else, (independent) filmmaking operating to automatically satisfy the audience’s unconscious desires. Talk about *wish fulfillment*! It’s all already ready there. |
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Post by Subtext Mining on Apr 30, 2021 12:55:56 GMT
For the most part, they're indifferent to the audience. A movieverse that exists entirely in-world, on it's own terms. That, and/but they’re on another level of, compared to practically anything else, (independent) filmmaking operating to automatically satisfy the audience’s unconscious desires. Talk about *wish fulfillment*! It’s all already ready there. Yes, and I also often say the Prequels may not have given people what they (think they) wanted, but it certainly gave them what they needed. And though I've always loved Episodes I and II, it was a reality I needed to come to terms with for III. Ironic, isn't it, how the PT gives us a lesson in letting go of our attachments. |
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Post by Pyrogenic on Apr 30, 2021 15:35:34 GMT
That, and/but they’re on another level of, compared to practically anything else, (independent) filmmaking operating to automatically satisfy the audience’s unconscious desires. Talk about *wish fulfillment*! It’s all already ready there. Yes, and I also often say the Prequels may not have given people what they (think they) wanted, but it certainly gave them what they needed. And though I've always loved Episodes I and II, it was a reality I needed to come to terms with for III. Ironic, isn't it, how the PT gives us a lesson in letting go of our attachments. The PT does give everyone what they wanted, albeit indirectly. Hence, “wish fulfillment.” The fans aren’t always ready to do their part and actually interpret the content to find their wanted stuff sitting there waiting for them. It’s like looking at Christmas presents under the tree but being too lazy to open them and then claiming they aren’t there. |
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Post by ArchdukeOfNaboo on May 1, 2021 16:00:42 GMT
The bad guys win. to give just one example
Unfortunately the concept has since been aped by a cabal of vacuous, pseudo-philosophising, corporate, thoughtless rubbish, but just rememberer who achieved it when there was a lot of risk and pushback attached to it, when it wasn't mainstream in popular films: George Lucas.
I don't have a high opinion of 2010s popular cinema. It was too self-conscious, too keen to be liked, and obsessed with how the audience might perceive it - perhaps a function of the inexorable influence of social media, where the idea of needing another's approval has never been stronger. I don't want movies engineered by focus groups.
There is, by contrast, a strident self-confidence present in Lucas's prequel trilogy, right from the very opening crawl of Episode I - The Phantom Menace. There is no catering to fan's expectations, and there is no toying or play-acting with their fan theories on Reddit either. Neither is there kowtowing to the demands of the the aristocracy of popular culture: the films critics. George is doing his own bright, daring, wonderful thing and he's not going to be shackled by anyone.
And why should he? Star Wars is his creation, he is the author. If the bad guys are going to win, don't be too disheartened, for the ride there will be unforgettable.
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Post by Pyrogenic on May 1, 2021 21:50:10 GMT
The PT also, at the very least, feels like a complete conceptual fantasy realization of the long-lost "Electronic Labyrinth" concept that originally prefaced Lucas' preliminary student-film version of THX 1138. It's like a "cyber maze" or an online puzzle to be played (like or as a video game) with an emphasis on navigating a DENSE digital environment. Kind of like The Matrix idea. You don't just sit and watch these movies. You explore and interpret them. Honestly, the fact that we're even here on this site lends credence to a sort of BOOK CLUB idea that most movies don't really...inspire? All the other Hollywood movies keep using the PT as a source for allusion, too. Echo Base?
ANOTHER THING
If you do a little definition/etymology/wordplay theme digging (subtext mining?), the three PT titles "combined" are basically referring to a DOPPELGANGER or FETCH.
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Post by Somny on May 2, 2021 19:10:01 GMT
From a formal perspective:
The immaculate, painterly, digital sheen of the cinematography and VFX work, particularly in AOTC and ROTS. It feels like all the mise en scene (i.e. actors, environments, ships, animated characters, etc.) are hewn from the same elemental material, achieving a unique and radical degree of cohesion quite rare in big-budget filmmaking. |
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Post by ArchdukeOfNaboo on May 2, 2021 19:49:20 GMT
Could it be the distinctive culture that the prequels have generated? It's like the younger brother who gets bossed around by the older one, but who also happens to be a tad cooler.
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Post by Subtext Mining on May 2, 2021 21:27:03 GMT
A tad cooler, haha I like that, and I see some truth in it. Which is interesting because at the same time I admit there is a tangible element of cornyness to the PT, but the great thing is, it's shameless about it - which is the endearing factor that makes it cooler, or possibly, more well-rounded. You have to just cannonball into it and lap it up. I think where a lot of folks (and actors) go sideways is when they feel it's their duty as cool people (read: corny SW nerds) to be repelled by it. Maybe The Matrix spoiled everyone. Speaking of which; in response to the PT being indifferent to it's audience etc., remember Lucas said , "If they don't like [TPM] they can go back and watch The Matrix." m.youtube.com/watch?v=jfkJ-4iU25A |
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Post by Ingram on May 4, 2021 11:12:48 GMT
That, and/but they’re on another level of, compared to practically anything else, (independent) filmmaking operating to automatically satisfy the audience’s unconscious desires. Talk about *wish fulfillment*! It’s all already ready there. Yes, and I also often say the Prequels may not have given people what they (think they) wanted, but it certainly gave them what they needed. And though I've always loved Episodes I and II, it was a reality I needed to come to terms with for III. Ironic, isn't it, how the PT gives us a lesson in letting go of our attachments. There's definitely an external truth in this, but I was speaking more about the internal disposition of the films as they behave from one scene to the next. Popular movies these days (or even much of what passes for avant-garde, for that matter) no longer exist, with commitment, in their own movie realities. They haven't for some time. Particularly across the spectrum of genre franchises there is a default aim for the facade of conventional, televisual method drama, dramedy or meme-humorous sitcom antics outright. In other words, scenes that exists conscious of, almost entirely at the mercy of, an already distracted, smartphone-addicted audience; scenes scripted and staged primarily to justify themselves by being instantly likable or sentimental for momentary sake and thus yielding a sense of dispensability. Commercials strung together to form a generic narrative. Very little is heightened or strange anymore.
The opening proceedings of The Phantom Menace however are obstinately indifferent to the usual audience junk food cravings. There's no wink-winks or placating or dancing Baby Groots or phony hush-toned 'OMG' platitudes. The movie is not meeting us on our terms, let alone bending over backwards to do as much with cheap personality. Rather, it ferries us into its own stylistic universe of Depression Era comic strip radio drama as two Jedis decloak and step into the plot businesslike. It's American Graffiti all over again: rock 'n' roll teenagers and space wizards alike carrying on unaffectedly with the cards they've been dealt—with arcs, with hints of angst or underlying motivation, but without any lame attempt to desperately win the favor of the audience via scripting/acting/direction that's been tacked on precociously. When Obi-Wan cracks his first joke, such marks a rigid bit of levity logical of a warrior monk. It's not there so much for us as it is to simply make sense in-and-of this weird other reality. No, Obi-Wan is not particularly funny (yet); he's just a well-mannered padawan with a well-mannered padawan's degree of amusement. Even Jar Jar Binks on a whole is more anthropologically vaudevillian by design than he is a comic relief at face value. The real joke is more conceptual, the absurdity of two stoics caught up in severe interplanetary turmoil all the sudden being anchored to the galaxy's biggest nobody-clown.
These are just a few examples from the first stretch of Episode I whereas the MO stretches across the entire trilogy, always devoted to story and themes and motifs and odd little quirks that put into motion the abstractions of a pop-art auteur. It feels exotic. It reasserts the meaning of escapism: we're transported someplace decidedly else ...it's not just another assortment of all-purpose greeting cards or pliable fucking accessories!
Sorry. I guess I got a little upset there at the end.
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Post by Pyrogenic on May 4, 2021 21:20:46 GMT
Yes, and I also often say the Prequels may not have given people what they (think they) wanted, but it certainly gave them what they needed. And though I've always loved Episodes I and II, it was a reality I needed to come to terms with for III. Ironic, isn't it, how the PT gives us a lesson in letting go of our attachments. There's definitely an external truth in this, but I was speaking more about the internal disposition of the films as they behave from one scene to the next. Popular movies these days (or even much of what passes for avant-garde, for that matter) no longer exist, with commitment, in their own movie realities. They haven't for some time. Particularly across the spectrum of genre franchises there is a default aim for the facade of conventional, televisual method drama, dramedy or meme-humorous sitcom antics outright. In other words, scenes that exists conscious of, almost entirely at the mercy of, an already distracted, smartphone-addicted audience; scenes scripted and staged primarily to justify themselves by being instantly likable or sentimental for momentary sake and thus yielding a sense of dispensability. Commercials strung together to form a generic narrative. Very little is heightened or strange anymore. (Cut to me eagerly scrambling to haphazardly defend to the death the many very weirdly amazing blockbuster "bombs" of the past 20+ years...another way of me saying that I believe there's possibly a specific context that makes every movie great.) |
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Post by Cryogenic on May 4, 2021 22:10:46 GMT
There's definitely an external truth in this, but I was speaking more about the internal disposition of the films as they behave from one scene to the next. Popular movies these days (or even much of what passes for avant-garde, for that matter) no longer exist, with commitment, in their own movie realities. They haven't for some time. Particularly across the spectrum of genre franchises there is a default aim for the facade of conventional, televisual method drama, dramedy or meme-humorous sitcom antics outright. In other words, scenes that exists conscious of, almost entirely at the mercy of, an already distracted, smartphone-addicted audience; scenes scripted and staged primarily to justify themselves by being instantly likable or sentimental for momentary sake and thus yielding a sense of dispensability. Commercials strung together to form a generic narrative. Very little is heightened or strange anymore. (Cut to me eagerly scrambling to haphazardly defend to the death the many very weirdly amazing blockbuster "bombs" of the past 20+ years...another way of me saying that I believe there's possibly a specific context that makes every movie great.) To ask a thread-related question (or not): Do you believe blockbusters of the past 20+ years are somehow "smarter" or "better"; or otherwise different from their predecessors in some specific and interesting ways? And if so, do you trace this new clade of movies to any particular time or event? Did the prequels -- do you think -- have anything to do with a sea change in modern blockbuster cinema? I sound like I'm putting words into your mouth, but I'm just curious if the prequels (or some other movies: e.g., "The Matrix") tie into your thinking here. FWIW, it does seem there are some specific aesthetic properties that make a 1970s blockbuster a 1970s blockbuster, a 1980s blockbuster a 1980s blockbuster, a 1990s blockbuster a 1990s blockbuster, and so on. I was just re-watching "The Lost World" the other night. A bit underrated (maybe). But in any case, in light of Ewan McGregor's salty comments from the other day, I did notice how, ah... tangible that movie feels. Lots of sets and location shooting (and, indeed, a fairly restrained use of digital effects). Exactly what Ewan implied he was hoping for with the prequels. And that movie was in the temporal filling station of the prequels, coming out in 1997, only two years before TPM, by George's bestest filmmaking buddy in the whole world (Spielberg). And, of course, it shares the same effects house (ILM), the same composer (John Williams), and the same sound mixing genius (Gary Rydstrom -- who also worked on Episode I, at least). Yet fast forward to the equivalent "big monster movie" of the early-2000s, Peter Jackson's "King Kong", and the texture (and tone) of that movie is entirely different -- more florid, more digital; more of a great big galumphing fantasy thing. I suppose I'm just being very orthodox and predictable here and hinting that blockbuster cinema changed irrevocably after the introduction -- or rather: the increasingly confident and wholesale reliance upon -- digital technology. Before then, cinema was essentially a photochemical affair; with what seems like a "phase transition" period in the 1990s and at the turn of the millennium (the prequels basically being the most conspicuously "digital cinema emporium" at the time). What people loved in those Spielberg-helmed dino movies, I think, even if they didn't realise, was the intense corporeality of the experience: mud and waterfalls, lashings of rain, animatronic dinosaurs, vast windswept flora, real jeeps, cars, and trailers, dinosaur bones and egg-turning machines, night-vision goggles, a flashlight chaotically spewing its beam in a million directions like an out-of-control weathervane, abandoned visitor centres and worker villages strewn with overgrowth, and a beast from the past stomping all over San Diego (or Burbank, California, in fact). You can tell that a lot of this "fantastic past", larger-than-life, storybook quality was incorporated into Episode I, yet that movie has a very different look and feel to Spielberg's B-movie "attacks" -- and Episodes II and III would differ even more. Maybe something was lost as the 1990s rolled away into the distance. So is this kinda what you mean? Am I anywhere close? In any case, the prequels dared to be different -- without even trying to be different for difference's sake. I think Darth Eddie said it best on TFN in 2014: |
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Post by Pyrogenic on May 4, 2021 23:24:07 GMT
It's certainly relevant!
I'm pretty familiar with recent blockbusters is all - not really comparing them to ones before that time frame - and I have found some better than others, but yeah. It's the increasing prominence of the internet "video game era." Home video movies basically became video games at the DVD level because everything that applies to playing a video game technically becomes possible with that technology.
It's funny. I should use "computer game" rather than "video game," maybe. I think this might just be silly old idiosyncratic me, but the the ability to freely manipulate the cursor on the playback (progress) bar is proooooobably the most significant "recent" contribution to movies that I can think of, period, despite being relatively under-appreciated now, and it's much easier to control this on a computer (as opposed to clunky fast-forwarding and chapter selection, but it's the same principle).
The movies that "get" that it's a playable game and emulate game design (often with CGI!) tend to fare better within this particular cinema system/film theory. It's my personal preference, I suppose, but...The PT is the best example, IMHO. Yes. There are others, including The Matrix Trilogy, but I sort of think of *all* the movies (cinema) collectively as being facets of the same gem, for example. Cinema as the central hub of a movie-node star network. They each have their conceptual/linguistic contributions according to their specificity. The idea is that you can play this thing with inputs at the level of idea. It's very hard to distill to its crucial essence - too many factors - but for me, it's like all these things have a hyper-godlike capacity to reveal massive tomes-worth of data. But you have to interpret or read or "input" what you want to show up.
It seems that people like to talk and write ABOUT movies, but they never really seem to...direct that same info AT the movie. Like the etymology of "scope." You have a target. The movie or part of it or whatever. And then you have your conceptual arrow (whatever you're aiming). And then you cast/shoot/throw that "spell arrow" at it. You can technically "find" almost anything "in there." It's kind of like priming or contextualizing or something. Like, let me try a random example without too much foresight or planning. I'll link to a video and I'll preface it with my linguistic "input." Then you can watch the video with that input in mind and "see" how it "lights up." Totally random attempt:
CHILDPROOF
OK, I thought that was pretty cool. Hope you did, too.
You're right, Cryo. This should probably go into DROIDS & BOTS, but it can be relevant here, too, since we're talking about the distinguishing features of the PT and other movies at once, and I instinctively go to just that (the PT) to demo this idea. The PT has that replayability that all great games have. Add that to the tally of reasons.
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Post by Ingram on May 5, 2021 0:03:50 GMT
There's definitely an external truth in this, but I was speaking more about the internal disposition of the films as they behave from one scene to the next. Popular movies these days (or even much of what passes for avant-garde, for that matter) no longer exist, with commitment, in their own movie realities. They haven't for some time. Particularly across the spectrum of genre franchises there is a default aim for the facade of conventional, televisual method drama, dramedy or meme-humorous sitcom antics outright. In other words, scenes that exists conscious of, almost entirely at the mercy of, an already distracted, smartphone-addicted audience; scenes scripted and staged primarily to justify themselves by being instantly likable or sentimental for momentary sake and thus yielding a sense of dispensability. Commercials strung together to form a generic narrative. Very little is heightened or strange anymore. (Cut to me eagerly scrambling to haphazardly defend to the death the many very weirdly amazing blockbuster "bombs" of the past 20+ years...another way of me saying that I believe there's possibly a specific context that makes every movie great.) Oh, there's some good stuff out there. I've by no means distance myself entirely from recent year crops. Hell, I liked Wonder Woman 1984 resoundingly. I thought it hit a contextual mark different from Snyder's Justice League cut, which I also liked. I only highlight the PT's stylized and consistent in-movieverse verisimilitude as an outlier, as something that sets it well above the rest. I was just re-watching "The Lost World" the other night. A bit underrated (maybe). Spielberg's worst feature-length film. By a mile. The 2nd worst thing he's ever directed next to the 'Kick the Can' segment from Twilight Zone: The Movie. This matter is concluded. Do not speak of it again. |
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Post by Anthony on May 5, 2021 0:28:56 GMT
The story is great but it's the purely sensorial aspect that makes the trilogy different for me. The atmosphere. I can't describe it with words! You feel it or you don't, I guess
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Post by Cryogenic on May 5, 2021 1:57:16 GMT
I was just re-watching "The Lost World" the other night. A bit underrated (maybe). Spielberg's worst feature-length film. By a mile. The 2nd worst thing he's ever directed next to the 'Kick the Can' segment from Twilight Zone: The Movie. This matter is concluded. Do not speak of it again. I did say "maybe".  But really, I think it has a lot going for it -- Janusz Kaminski's fluid and moody cinematography, for one (and a decently moody score from John Williams to go with it). I guess I've always dug the "lost continent" aspect of the movie, even if the narrative is a bit muddy and it can't replicate the wonderment and joy of the first film, and yes, Spielberg himself admitted to feeling fatigued when making it and seems to have practically disowned it since. Of course, it's easy to shun things and throw stones on the Internet. It's 2021. It's practically all people do these days. |
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Post by smittysgelato on May 5, 2021 23:59:53 GMT
I don't have anything particularly brilliant to add to this discussion, so I will just add some brief points.
1. The fact these movies ventured to do something different with the production design, instead of just doing Original Trilogy 2.0. I think the fact that the Prequels were the pioneers of filming in digital gives them this eery feel. They don't quite look like movies that came before, and they don't look quite like the digital blockbusters we have now. They have that weird in-between feel.
2. My own subjective experience colors my experience of these films, which really makes them different for me. Out of any fictional character, Anakin is the most similar to myself, minus all that going to the dark side stuff. Like Anakin, I have struggled a lot with attachments in my life, so the Prequels are emotionally intense for me. As a teenager, I would watch Revenge of the Sith when I was in a horrible mood because the movie was such an intense experience I'd be too emotionally exhausted by the end of it to be upset anymore.
3. In response to Ingram's point that the Prequels are dedicated to their own reality: I think you have hit the nail on the head in terms of what it is like to watch movies in the post-modern era. A part of being post-modern is being self-aware. Movies these days have to create their own reality while at the same time acknowledging itself as a movie and that the reality it is portraying is a construct. Sometimes it is nice to go back and watch older movies and just enjoy being transported somewhere else without thinking about the fact it isn't real.
4. I like what Cryogenic said about Padme in his first post. She really is that mysterious feminine. She's basically the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio.
5. In terms of micro and macro elements, the fact that Anakin is the internal "fall" while the Republic is the outer "fall." There's so much analysis you can play with there.
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