Favourite frames in the PT

jtn90

I love that frame from the middle of the duel. It's iconic, much like the clash of sabres before it that makes the poster.

While some in the past have critiqued the SW fights as unnecessarily long, they tend to ignore the role of attrition. Nowhere is this more the case than here. While Anakin may be getting in the better blows, he is also being worn down, and not just physically but mentally. The fact that they're fairly evenly matched means it was going to go on for quite some time. Hubris is the cause of Anakin's defeat, and the cost is very high. If he'd been able to keep his cool a little better he may well have won, but then if he had kept his cool would the fight have even started?

That the fight has broken out on Mustafar points to a degree of immaturity on both fighters. They never seek to take care or take responsibility for the disintegration of the planet they're on - it is like a fight breaking out in a saloon of old, where nobody gives a damn about how many glasses or pieces of furniture are broken. The spontaneous nature of the brawl is beautifully symbolised in the volcanic environment.

So, with this sorta thing I always try to avoid the most obvious choices or 'gimmies' in favor of some imagery often muted or overlooked or even seemingly pedestrian; moments that highlight odd little curiosities throughout the enterprise. Here goes...

Something about the palette and swirling planet atmosphere. It's almost like a soup of plot and intrigue that kicks off the trilogy, the whole damn saga.

R2, after being told to "stay with the ship". He's just sorta left standing there in discord, a little fixer droid witnessing the cataclysm of times, with Anakin now beyond his rudimentary empathy.

If memory serves, the backdrop here was repurposed from a Jedi Temple hall of some sort to a landing bay. But I dig the flood lights—Who watches the Watchmen?

Prophetic.

These are presented in order. Anakin's perspective: zeroing in on his angelically envisioned prize.

Hows that for a fucking screenwipe. I mean, c'mon. It's all right there.

Bars of light and sandstone. A little boy.

I just love the color spectrum between hot yellows and reds, and the graphic curvature lining.

So tiny and distant it doubles as a glyph.

The Shadow pulp.

Check out this accessory playset. All those marble and metallic surfaces. I've always favored the uniforms of the Theed guards/soldiers. Total retro.

The oval shaping permeates. I remain forever struck by the otherworldly brilliance of Lama Su's closeups.

Consider the sheer volume of populated content in this frame, each assigned a distinct POV.

Padme in a giant cauldron—when Star Wars goes Brothers Grimm.

The lousy rez screen capture here does it no justice, but I'll always champion this throwaway establishing shot for its planetary predawn weirdness; how the colossal termite landscape is lit twilight and with Obi-Wan going about his business, marking a strangely low-key beat in the film's pacing.

Okay. No insight, no interpretations, no bullshit. This one is just plain goddamn rad. Like, early 90s Trapper Keeper rad.

Round 4 for me:

Anakin is told by Palpatine that he is a monster. And now he realises he's dressed like a monster. Yet here is he is in self-denial.

It is now not a matter of if, but when Anakin will succumb to his destiny as a monster. Just when will he fully embrace it? When will it become his very identity? In other words: when will Anakin "mean nothing" to him?

Personally, I don't find the answers to these kind of questions interesting; they're just amusing to ponder. I don't take any pleasure in learning how human beings embrace their radicalisation, their status as murders or how they capitulate to evil regimes. Because there is little, if any, humanity there. When fans bemoan and regret the lack of a Vader "hunting down all the Jedi" in the prequels they reveal themselves as hostages to a striking voyeurism. A voyeurism that has become increasingly virulent in modern society with the advent of anything-goes TV shows like GoTR. The victory of gore over nuance, and the demise of Lucas and Tolkien myth (whoops, getting off topic, leave that debate to another day).

Lucas left a 19 year gap between Episode III and IV deliberately. We tend to forget that he could have easily chosen to show part's of Vader's life up to ANH. But he didn't. And his reasoning is probably this: nihilism on screen isn't worth it.

Only when Anakin is reacquainted with his former master, and then his son will can his story continue. Only then will nihilism begin to fade, with humanity emerging from its slumber. Indeed, the dogged bravery of the Rebel Alliance that constitutes so much of the OT is but foreshadowing of this character's final and greatest act.

"All directors are vaguely like emperors which is 'I want to build the society to reflect me and what I want.' And the great thing about it is you don't have to kill a lot of people, build a lot of stuff and spend a lot of money. If you're a king and want to do that... But a director can do it with a lot less money and just say, 'I'm gonna create a world where people can fly.'"

Anakin was seduced by the vision of a king, not a director (read: artist). He got a supreme fleet at the expense of the promise of a simple token. His allegiance to Padme is all that mattered to him in the end, not grand visions of empire ("Where is Padme? Is she safe? Is she alright?").

This frame from an intriguing shot. The shot pops out of nowhere during a scene in the climactic Battle of Naboo sequence in TPM and lasts only a few seconds but reveals a great deal. It basically shows a Gungan warrior using a laser shield to deflect droid blaster bolts. The Gungan in question succeeds in deflecting a blaster bolt back at its source, destroying it quite effectively. To the far left of the frame, there's another Gungan warrior engaged in fisticuffs with a droid.

I'll simply say... Jiu-Jitsu... and offer a basic idea. But I know there's far more to mine here (as always).

Jiu-Jitsu is a martial art which essentially involves using your opponent's strength against them with minimal effort. The above visual example, illustrating the idea of near-effortlessly using an enemy's force against them, links up well with the saga's general preoccupation with technology. It is no question that technology is prosaically associated with evil in SW ("He's more machine now than man. Twisted and evil."). But that reading is a bit elementary and untrained if you take into account something Lucas has said in at least one interview. While promoting his film, Red Tails, in 2012, Lucas put it as frankly as you can: "I like machines." This statement, along with others of his less blunt in their extolling of technology (something Lucas is criticized to no end for), suggests an artist's advantageous relationship with technology and, perhaps, a far more elaborate exercise of Jiu-Jitsu on the part of Lucas. He didn't spend any time and energy inventing language, visual art, genre, music, film grammar, cameras, lenses, editing systems, etc. but he sure as hell mobilized them all to make powerful and influential art on his own terms.

Lucas has shown that you can parry well and sock it to the droid army (read: status quo) by astutely using a laser shield to deflect blaster bolts. That's how it's done.

Moonshield Ancient Greco-Roman meets Futuristic Blade Runner. On paper these two styles shouldn't mix, but it's the genius of Lucas and his production designer, that it does work - and what a triumph it is.

While the night time scenes in Padmé's veranda may not be my own favourite in the film (it's a tough choice, the standard is just so high), the set certainly is. Illusions to those doomed lovers from antiquity, Anthony & Cleopatra, are strong, and the lighting and costume design perfectly compliment our wonderful two actors. We are left with a portrait of a couple at once in desperate uncertainty, fear and confusion, yet also experiencing the last tender moments of joy they will ever have in their brief, unfortunate lifetimes. Because soon they, like the limitless Coruscanti sky before them, will be swallowed up by the darkness, and the glamour and elegance of the Republic will be no more.

"If not for his dreams, he'd withdraw from the Order today. Now. The Lost Twenty would be the Lost Twenty One. Let the scandal come; it wouldn't destroy their lives. Not their real lives. It would destroy only the lives they'd had before each other: those separate years that now meant nothing at all."

- Matthew Stover, Chapter 12 of Revenge of the Sith novelisation.