Star Wars: The Art of the Incomplete Story

 I love Star Wars. I’m one of the crazy people who loves all three trilogies. I love them, I love Star Wars, because of the storytelling. 

Famously, the second Star Wars movie, The Empire Strikes Back, changed everything fans thought they knew when Darth Vader revealed to Luke Skywalker that he was his father. By the time I watched the original trilogy for the first time, it was in fact already a trilogy. I was two when Return of the Jedi was released in theaters. I grew up in a decade when Star Wars was an incredibly simple thing to appreciate. There were some Ewoks movies, sure (I saw those), and some cartoons, but for all intents and purposes Star Wars began and ended with the original trilogy.

For me there was no mystery about Vader’s identity. Learning how important that revelation was to the early fan community was a chance to more fully appreciate the storytelling, to deconstruct what was in each movie concerning this relationship, and how much it meant to the saga.

By the time George Lucas decided to make the prequels and explain exactly how Anakin Skywalker became Vader, it seemed as if the essential mystery of the saga had been explained. And yet it wasn’t. The prequels couldn’t explain, in detail, how Palpatine became the Dark Lord of the Sith. What I loved so much about Revenge of the Sith was a sequence in which he implies his origins. For me it’s every bit as essential as Vader revealing his identity, though the moments could not be more different if they tried. Palpatine’s conversation with the young Anakin is slow, contemplative, deliberate. Vader’s exchange with Luke is a desperate moment at the end of a terrible duel.

 In the sequel trilogy, Rise of Skywalker reveals that Rey is Palpatine’s granddaughter. Some fans remain baffled by this, especially as it relates to the title of the film. Naturally I love it. The mystery remains, what kind of lives did her parents lead? 

It could easily fill another trilogy, just as I immediately began envisioning the possibility of a trilogy around Palpatine’s ascension within the Sith.

But this is Star Wars. This is the art of the incomplete story. I don’t think it counts unless it’s in a film. No comics. No cartoons. No books. Some fans grieve stories that played out in the aftermath of the original trilogy once the sequels negated them. Some find answers to sequel mysteries in new material of the very same kind.

But it’s not official, for me, unless it’s in a film. Star Wars films are things of epic grandeur. From the very beginning, when a Rebellion destroyed a Death Star, these are stories that make the most sense when they are captured in the grandest form of filmmaking. There’s a reason why movies tried for so long to capture the Star Wars magic. It took twenty years. Nothing like it had been accomplished before, and at least as far as I’m concerned, nothing has come close to the full scope of Star Wars even now. 

And the scope is in the willingness to leave gaps. The instinct is to fill in all the gaps. That’s why it’s so common for the comics, books, cartoons, to try. But they never understand that the magic lies in the scope of it. Why focus so exclusively on the Skywalkers? Aren’t there more stories worth telling? Well, sure, but the depth of Star Wars is in the resonance. Stray too far from them and it could be anything at all. Basically, my opinion of all that material became, it basically was. 

Rey embraces the Skywalker legacy because that’s the heart of the saga, that’s what the story is all about, the ability to face great obstacles and still complete the hero’s journey. And what makes her journey so interesting is that she makes leaps of faith that defy all logic, just as Luke before her, and his father before him. These leaps are not about Jedi finesse, but the ability to embrace the art of storytelling, as few examples in film have dared.

The idea was never to simply leave fans wanting more. Three separate times the saga concludes. But leaves room for more, often in the past rather than the future. And sometimes it dares embrace the challenge. This isn’t laziness. This is brilliance.