Sunday, October 19, 2014

Rulebook Casefile: Luke as Emotional Manipulator in Star Wars

Just a few more Star Wars posts, I promise! There’s a lot to talk about with this movie!
I’ve said many time that every character should pursue what he or she wants using verbal tricks and traps, rather than direct requests or confrontations. This isn’t just true of dishonest or manipulative characters: even nice guys should use tricks and traps to pursue their nice guy goals. As I said in my original post on this topic:
  • Don’t assume that only unsympathetic or devious characters do this. Anyone who is clever and persuasive knows that they must pepper their conversation with tricks and traps. Take a look at the knife scene in Twelve Angry Men. As a lone holdout juror in a murder trial, Henry Fonda pretty much plays the ultimate living embodiment of human decency. He’s one of the most humble and noble heroes in the history of movies. And he does it all with tricks and traps.
Another character notable for his open-hearted idealism is Luke Skywalker. There’s a reason he dresses all in white: he’s unambiguously good! But Luke, too, is a big fan of tricks and traps. He actually uses a lot of indirect and manipulative dialogue, in an admirably crafty way:
  • He tries to trap his Uncle Owen by talking up the usefulness of the new droids before slyly segueing to the idea they could take his place on the farm. (“I think those new droids are going to work out fine. In fact, I, uh, was also thinking about our agreement…”)
  • He goads Han into accepting a lower offer in the Cantina (“We could buy our ship for that!”) and pushes him to work harder on the broken lightspeed (“I thought you said this thing was fast?”)
  • He hammers away at Han when he won’t help in rescuing Leia, circling around him looking for weak spots, until he finally figures it out (“She’s rich!”)
  • Once he wins Han over, he’s the one who comes up with the trick where they pretend Chewy is their captive.
We think of Han and the slick one, but he’s actually transparent and plainspoken, while Luke is far more wily, and more likely to wrap Han around his finger. This culminates in the finale, when Luke finally convinces Han to totally betray his own self-interest by hitting him below the belt one last time: “Well, take care of yourself, Han... guess that's what you’re best at, isn’t it?” Han just can’t stay away after that.

Obi Wan isn’t the only one who knows how to play mind tricks!

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Storyteller’s Rulebook: Drop Some Half Facts

Speaking of novelists who read the blog, I’m happy to report that occasional Cockeyed commenter Jonathan Auxier has found a ton of success with his latest novel, “The Night Gardener.” I love this book, and while I read it, something became clear to me: the value of the half-fact. This is nothing I haven’t advocated before (to a certain extent, any form of foreshadowing can be considered to be a half-fact) but I’ve found that thinking of it in this way is particularly useful.

When the book begins, an Irish girl and her younger brother are roving the English countryside in a rickety wagon looking for work. As they do, two half-facts keep coming up, because it’s clear that she wants to avoid both: what happened to their parents, and where their cart came from. She keeps accidentally veering onto each topic and then abruptly pulling away.

This shows the two types of half-fact: We eventually find out what happened to their parents (as you might, expect, with all that foreshadowing) but, oddly, we never find out where they got the wagon.

You might think that audiences would get frustrated by foreshadowing that never pays off, or that the author owes it to the audience to keep things airtight, but this isn’t true. As long as most of the dangling half-facts pay off, we don’t mind it all of some are left dangling.

Of course, if you’re going to leave it incomplete, it should be the sort of half-facts that we can fill in for ourselves. It’s not hard to figure out where they got the wagon, after all: they probably stole it. When they dangle references to the wagon in the beginning, we expect to the get the full story later (and perhaps see some consequences) but we don’t mind at all when it never pays off. If we think about it again, we just fill in the other half of the fact on our own.
Let’s look at the two types of half-fact in Star Wars, starting with the kind that does pay off: there’s no better example of this than the holographic recording, which literally cuts off halfway, over and over again, only to finally complete itself later.

This example shows another value of the half-fact, it’s a great way to parcel out the exposition. First we see Leia record it but don’t hear anything, then we hear the first half of the message 15 minutes later, then we get the second half 15 minutes after that. If we’d gotten the whole thing during the recording or the first playback, it might feel like an awkward info-dump, but by cutting it off, Lucas achieves the opposite effect, making us anxious anticipate finding out the rest.

Of course, there’s also no shortage here of half-facts that don’t pay off, but, again, each is something that we can fill in on our own: “I fought alongside your father in the Clone Wars.” Huh? What? When will we hear more about that? Well, not for another twenty-five years, as it turns out, and by the time we do, we’ll wish Lucas had just left us with our own suppositions. It was a lot more fun not knowing the other half of that fact.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Rulebook Casefile: The Way the Worlds Work in Star Wars

One last note on the world-building in Star Wars: I pointed out before that stories have to reflect the way the world works, even if they’re not set on our world at all, and I used the prequels as an example of movies that fail to do so. It’s only fitting to circle back around now and contrast the original trilogy.

The prequels were rightly criticized for getting lost in the minutia of trade embargoes, but the fact is that this wasn’t an inherently bad idea, it was just poorly done. In the original trilogy, Lucas has a similar level of geopolitical complexity, but he weaves it into the fabric of the movie far more seamlessly, and it subtly magnifies the power of the story.

This isn’t simply the story of a bunch of rebels who get tired of the king’s tax collectors, raise a big banner and march on the castle. These rebels hold official positions and travel under diplomatic cover, the empire chafes under the oversight of a toothless Senate (sounds vaguely familiar), distant provinces operate autonomously, etc.

This brings us back to another thing James Kennedy pointed out last week:
  • Luke might not enjoy being a farmboy on Tatooine, but he’s really good at it. He works hard and draws knowledgeable, canny conclusions about the stuff that happens around him. He knows the area and he knows the value of money. We'll see this again and again going forward.
Indeed, economics is everywhere in the Tatooine part of the movie, and, unlike in the prequels, it makes us care more. It makes this world real, despite all the weird inexplicable stuff going on (what exactly are they farming, anyway?)

This brings us back to another reason that Hammil’s performance is so remarkable: he creates a world that’s much bigger than what we see onscreen. What are Womprats? Where’s Anchorhead? We never find out, Hammil effortlessly convinces us that he knows, and that’s all we need.

Indeed, this is true for every performance in the movie. In retrospect, Harrison Ford’s infamous on-set complaint (“George, you can type this shit, but you sure as hell can’t say it”) probably refers not to overly simplistic lines, as is generally implied when that quote is cited, but to all of the bizarre unexplained specifics that the actors were expected to casually sell to the audience (“Nerf-herder!”).
In other words, Ford was complaining about how good the dialogue was, not how bad: it required him to an unprecedented amount of work creating a larger unseen world. Luckily, he proved himself wrong: he could say it, and helped make a wonderful world come alive, both within and beyond the film frame.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Straying from the Party Line: Shaggy Dog Storytelling in Star Wars

Here’s one last tangent I saved up from James Kennedy’s epic Star Wars response, discussing the section where the droids blunder their way across Tatooine:
  • The great thing about the movie so far is that it's like looking in an anthill -- just the various interlocking parts of the social ecology of this weird world. When you think about it from a screenwriting-manual point of view, it would be easier for R2D2 just to land by chance near Luke's farm. Maybe some well-meaning note-giver of an early draft of this script would say, "Why not just have Luke see an escape pod streaking down from the sky, and then he goes and investigates it, and finds R2 and C3P0 himself? That's much more active and heroic!" But in fact that would ruin everything, because the great pleasure for the first 15 minutes is not following a hero's journey, but watching how the big Rube Goldberg machine of this crazy space world works -- every piece tightly logically related to the last, and yet every piece satisfyingly bizarre. Child-sized brown-robed junk dealers with glowing eyes who speak in an incomprehensible jabber? Yes! The Jawas' introduction, and the implication of a larger economy that they fit in, makes the whole world feel more real, which is necessary when the world is brand-new and crazy.
    Same with how HARRY POTTER spends time at Diagon Alley -- why not take Harry straight to Hogwarts, “get to the story”? Because when you are in the business of constructing an alternate world, you need to see many locations and social structures in it before the place feels real. The worst mistake in fantasy is to be too efficient in your storytelling. Maybe this is why bestselling fantasies are always so long?
Do I agree? Not entirely. At the risk of sacrilege, I feel like the droids wander around on the planet for a little too long. The movie is 123 minutes and I feel like this was the place to cut those extra three minutes out.

That said, I do agree with James that it was brave of Lucas to create the Jawas and give the droids some wandering around time. Part of the appeal of the movie is that it’s filled with such utterly strange and seemingly random details that don’t really “make a point” (What do the Jawas mean? What would the story lose if they were taken out?) but just make this feel like an endlessly strange and fascinating world, so it’s a plus that the details don’t all back up the theme.
This also speaks to the movie’s shaggy-dog plotting. There’s very little set-up and pay-off. There are no verbal callbacks. We never cycle back around to anything (never go back to Tatooine, etc.) or cut ahead (introducing the rebel base before Luke gets there, etc.) This creates a sort of meandering all-over-the-galaxy plot-progression that’s actually quite thrilling in an off-kilter kind of way.

In short, this movie is loose. This was a huge risk. Persistent verbal and visual pay-offs are very satisfying to an audience, and details that all reflect one subtle thematic dilemma can build up tremendous power. By keeping many of its details and plot turns loose and semi-random, the movie gambled on a very different type of appeal: scruffy charm.

This unusual strategy succeeded brilliantly. All of that randomness created a sense of utter reality: who could make this stuff up?? The immensely appealing characters draw us into this weird world and make us feel welcome, at which point all of the bizarre details and plot-turns become fascinating rather than alienating.  It was a trick that dozens of space-opera follow-ups tried to duplicate, with no success, but in this case the risk led to a huge reward.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Straying from the Party Line: Luke's Late Introduction in Star Wars

Alas, Star Wars has never gotten an adequate DVD or Blu release. It seems fairly obvious at this point that Lucas feels humiliated by his inability to get back to this level of quality, so he’s decided to simply degrade the quality of the originals rather than attempt to compete.

This means that Lucas has never officially released the deleted scenes, which are essential viewing for anyone attempting to understand how this masterpiece came about. Luckily, the scenes keep popping on the internet, despite Lucasfilm’s periodic attempts to scrub them out.

Last week, James Kennedy and I debated the question of why we like Luke despite the fact that he has an underwhelming intro scene, and why we’re willing to wait 17 minutes before a real hero shows up. Today, let’s go back and address how that tricky situation came about.

Originally, Luke was not just our hero but also our POV character, literally. We meet him much earlier on, watching the Star Destroyer battle through his binoculars from down on Tatooine, then we see him run to tell his friends about it, and then he has a discussion with his old friend Biggs who has just returned from the flight school. You can watch these scenes above.

What did these scenes do for the movie?
  • Establish who Luke is: his personality, his situation, and his goals
  • Give him more instantly likable dialogue: “I’m quiet, I’m quiet, listen to how quiet I am, you can barely hear me.”
  • Give Luke more of a classic unjust social humiliation: His friends think he’s lying about the battle and the girl mocks him for it, but we were there and saw it with him, so they’re be mocking us too, strongly establishing our identification with Luke.
  • Create parallel characters for Luke (those who are content to stay vs. one who has already left), showing him (and us) possible paths he could take.
  • Establish who Biggs is.
  • Establish more precisely why Luke can’t leave.
  • Establish more precisely the nature of the Empire and its relationship to the outer planets.
  • Establish why someone like Luke who hates the Empire would want to go to Imperial flight school, (Biggs reveals that would-be rebels graduate and then instantly defect to the other side, which they have to locate through rumors.)
So then these are the consequences of cutting these scenes out:
  • Luke is left with a much more indistinct intro scene.
  • We just have to guess who Biggs is when we briefly meet him later.
  • We have to infer Luke’s situation from his conversation with his uncle, though it’s never clear.
  • We have to infer the nature of the Empire from later scenes with Vader, though it remains unclear.
  • We remain utterly baffled as to why Luke wants to go Imperial flight school if he hates the empire so much (though most of us don’t notice the discrepancy until later viewings)
So then why were these scenes cut?
  • First and foremost, because Luke was wearing a goofy hat at first. They saw the dailies and instantly realized their mistake, but it was too late to reshoot. (And even if it had less goofy, hats shadow the eyes and make characters harder to identify with.)
  • The locations don’t have as much character as the other locations in the movie. They feel far more generic, with fewer unique and fascinating details.
  • These scenes are all backstory and no frontstory. Luke is passively receiving and dispensing information. His actions here effect no changes.
  • More importantly, they take up way too much time. The story really begins when Luke sees the hologram. That would have happened at 28 minutes instead of 20, which would have been unacceptable.
Does the movie get away with it? Absolutely. As in this previous example I cited from The Terminator, it’s clear why it was necessary to have these scenes in the script, so as to form a reader’s bond to Luke on the page, but once the footage came in, it became clear that Hammil’s performance was so good that these scenes became unnecessary: even in the underwhelming scene that now introduces the character, Hammil is telling us most of the missing info with his eyes, so we don’t need to hear it out loud.

Later, in the dinner scene, Luke’s words are insufficient to clarify what’s going on, but his eyes and tone of voice tells us everything we need to know. The actors playing Owen, Beru and Ben told a lot of it with their eyes, too. (So much so that, in Empire, the filmmakers realized that they could add a big twist to justify the complexity of emotion going on behind everyone’s eyes when they mentioned Luke’s dad.)

It must have been hard to cut these scenes (“But then it won’t make any sense when he runs into Biggs at the end!” etc.) but they demonstrated an admirable dedication to tone over plot. It was more important that the story remain fast, fun, and exciting, even if it made a lot less sense. Why are today’s modern blockbusters all 150 minutes? Because filmmakers no longer have the courage to cut these seemingly-essential but ultimately-extraneous scenes.

Friday, October 10, 2014

My Response to James: Why Do We Like Luke in Star Wars?

Over the last three days, we’ve seen James Kennedy’s epic response to my question about Luke’s possible petulance in Star Wars. Here’s my response to his response:

To begin, here’s some stuff I agree with:
  • I certainly agree that Star Wars is a much weirder story than most people realize.
  • Good point that Luke doesn’t have to sell us on the world or tone of the movie because he’s not our POV character, which means that he doesn’t have to be as likeable. He’s not saying, “Hi, I’m Luke and let me show you my crazy world!”, he’s just saying, “Now that you’ve accepted this crazy world, here’s a hero!”
  • That said, it’s still truly bizarre we put up with 17 minutes of prologue without a clear hero. As you point out, it helps that everyone (except 3PO) is pursuing goals hardcore while we wait. (Of course, this problem is just a result of the fact that the first two Luke scenes were cut out. We’ll take a look at those scenes next week and consider what effect they might have had.)
  • You make an interesting case that giving Threepio a bath is “saving the cat.” Not sure I buy it, but it’s possible.
  • The “Sir Luke” line is very key, of course. “Just Luke” is a mini-version of the false philosophy: “A guy like me can’t be a knight.”
  • Ben being too old is key: “I’m smarter and more bad-ass, but I’m too old to do it myself, so I have to train you.”
  • I definitely agree that one of Luke’s big strengths is that he’s cheerfully gung-ho: Looking for the droids, rushing to fight the sand people, rushing back home, selling his speeder, rescuing Leia, eager to blow up the Death Star, etc.
And some stuff I definitely disagree with:
  • We read the dinner scene differently: I think Luke is trying to break the agreement: To me the implication is that he already agreed to stay on another season until the end of the harvest, but now he wants to get out of that by saying the droids could take his place instead. I could see how you could read it either way.
  • You say: “Even when he is stalking off from a family argument, he's still going to finish the cleaning chore Uncle Owen gave him. Even though he's entitled to his emotion, he going to do his work anyway. This is whiny? This is petulant?” In a word, yes! There’s a difference between petulance and defiance. Luke is not defiant, he’s not angry, he’s not surly…he’s petulant. This is the dictionary definition of petulance: “childishly sulky or bad-tempered”
  • I totally disagree with your contention that Luke puts 2 and 2 together about the dead Jawas. Just the opposite: he’s totally fooled into thinking the Sand People did it until Obi Wan figures it out and corrects him.
But let’s get to the main question: I think that Luke certainly does sound whiny when he says he’d rather go to Tosche Station, but it’s saved by the fact that his small flaw gets an outsized comeuppance. This is a classic trick: Luke deserves an upbraiding, but, “You can waste time with your friends later,” is excessive. This is always a great way to be introduced to a character, because we see that they have a real personal problem that we can worry about, but we also get to burn with indignation for them because we see that they’re being over-punished for it. Ironically, this bonds us to the character more than it would if the humiliation was not at all justified.
I originally had his big flaws listed as “naïve and whiny” and his flip-side strengths as “idealistic and eager,” but thanks to you I now realize that this isn’t quite it. The naïve/idealistic pair is definitely there, but the other pairing (which is more prominent) would be better described as impatient/gung-ho (Yoda pretty much says this outright in the Empire, come to think of it). This is why we aren’t bothered by his petulance (until the 4th or 5th viewing, when we suddenly notice it): It’s not his personality, it’s his flaw. We sense right away that it’s the aspect of his personality that he needs to change, which makes it a bug, not a feature. The flaw is the aspect of the one hero that we are not asked to identify with.

This also links back to a previous post: the flaw should usually be something you would admit to in a job interview. When an interviewer asks you about your flaws, you would never say “whiny”, but you might say “impatient”, because that’s the more sympathetic version of that flaw.

So thanks again to James for the illuminating discussion! ...But wait folks, there’s more! Spinning out of James’s thought and my re-watch, there are many more storytelling tips that can be gleaned by re-examining this movie:
  • The pros and cons of cutting out Luke’s intro scenes
  • The value of the droids wandering around (including one more argument from James’s letter that I haven’t included yet)
  • The value of semi-random worldbuilding
  • The value of a legacy
  • The value of the “half-fact”
  • Lucas’s respect for “the way the world works” (even though it’s not our world)
  • Luke as emotional manipulator
  • Obi Wan’s counterintuitive metaphor family
Come back next week as we dive in further!

Thursday, October 09, 2014

Guest Expert James Kennedy On Why We Love Luke Skywalker, Part 3

Heres the rest of novelist James Kennedys keen analysis of Lukes introduction in Star Wars (He also had a tangent that I snipped out for now, but Ill run that next week as part of another discussion)...
25:50 Luke goes back into the garage and C3P0 is hiding. Why? Because R2D2 ran away and C3P0 is ashamed he couldn’t stop him! Luke goes right back to being a realistic kid in trouble: “Oh no! How could I be so stupid? He’s nowhere in sight. Blast! ...Boy, am I ever gonna get it. That little droid is gonna cause me a lot of trouble!” R2D2 himself problem-solved, bamboozling Luke into removing the restraining bolt so he could travel on his own to Kenobi’s. Everyone, not just the hero, is ingeniously problem-solving all the time. This is much more satisfying than just saying “the robot ran away why I wasn’t in the room” -- by introducing this technology of “the restraining bolt” that Luke was definitely responsible for removing, it makes R2D2’s running away a direct function of one of Luke’s choices, and so makes his agency feel more important in the story.

27:00 The next morning, we don’t see Luke on the farm. Uncle Owen asks Aunt Beru, “Have you seen Luke?” and she replies something like “He left early” and after some conversation Uncle Owen says that Luke had “better have those units on the south range by midday or there’ll be hell to pay.” He’s still a kid, under his uncle’s thumb, and the stakes are established: he’s in trouble, he’s got to get that robot back, it’s an expensive piece of valuable equipment!
27:25 Luke and C3P0 are in a sandspeeder looking for R2D2. They spot something that might be him on the scanner. Hit the accelerator!

27:40 We see sand people preparing to take a shot at the sandspeeder. Luke is in danger, and he doesn’t even know it! They are following Luke, coming after him! He’s in their territory.... this makes us pity him, hope that he doesn’t get hurt, that the sand people don’t get him.
27:55 Luke finds R2D2 pretty quickly, which again demonstrates that he's a resourceful problem-solver -- with a whole desert planet to look in, Luke is able to succeed at this. He’s capable of solving small problems, so we trust him to solve the big problem of the plot, eventually. Much more effective than if he had wandered in circles forever. C3P0 says to R2D2, angrily: “You’re fortunate he [Luke] doesn't blast you into a million pieces right now!” But Luke, with mature, take-it-down-a-notch calmness. says “No, it's all right, but I think we'd better go” because he knows this is a dangerous area and he's not an idiot -- again, he's good at being a canny, practical farmboy who knows the territory. When R2 says he detects “several creatures approaching from the southeast,” Luke immediately knows what's up and says, “Sand people! Or worse.” He’s informed, he’s qualified to take us on this adventure!
But then Luke does something that always made me love him. Instead of running away in fear after he concludes there might be sand people about, he grabs his rifle and says, “C’mon, let’s go have a look. C’mon!” That is: even though it’s a dangerous situation, Luke has some grit, some spirit. He doesn’t turn tail and scurry away home afraid. He faces danger, but not foolhardily -- or actually, maybe a little foolhardy, because at 28:45 a sand person attacks, and Luke is in real danger, and we hope he doesn’t die! His rifle gets broken, he rolls out of the way avoiding the sand person’s battle stick (not his first time in a fight with a sand person?) Then horrifying howl, and cut away to empty desert valley. We feel how desolate this movie would be without Luke.
29:00 The sand people drop an unconscious Luke and loot his landspeeder. There comes a scary noise and the sand people run away as an even more scary figure appears. The scary figure approaches Luke . . . what will it do?!. . . but it removes its hood and it’s just a nice old man! We know he’s nice because he’s nice to R2D2. And we also know Luke will be OK, because he says so: "Oh don’t worry, he’ll be all right.” to Luke: "Rest easy son, you’ve had a busy day.” And Luke, as always quick on the uptake, says "Ben? Ben Kenobi? Am I glad to see you!” All these cognitive jumps that Luke makes add up.
30:48 When Luke says how came to own R2D2, and mentions Obi-Wan Kenobi, he gets significant suspicious looks from Kenobi, same as with Aunt and Uncle. WHAT IS THE SECRET EVERYONE IS KEEPING FROM LUKE?? Since it’s being kept from both Luke AND us, we identify with Luke more closely.

31:45 Before they leave the valley, Luke goes back for C3P0 and the wounded robot says, “Leave me behind, I’m done for.” Luke displays his can-do, never-say-die spirit: “No you’re not, what kind of talk is that?” and carries the robot. He’s helping out his robot friend, encouraging him! And you say he’s unkind?
32:17 at Kenobi’s house. Remember, everything that is said about Luke’s father is potentially true about Luke, since Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen agreed that Luke has a lot of his father in him. He was a "jedi knight,” the "best star pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior.” We can legitimately expect all of this to be true about Luke too, and so we have another promissory note about his character we expect to be cashed later. When Luke gets the lightsaber, and when Ben Kenobi explains the Force to him, Luke is respectful and a close listener with intelligent questions. All of this makes us like him because we have similar questions and we care too.
34:50 Leia’s complete message plays (so Luke has, in a roundabout way, accomplished that goal. He’s the kind of person who accomplishes goals! Another thing to like!) We learn R2D2 is important to the rebellion and has important info. Obi Wan takes it seriously, so that gives Luke a warrant to take it seriously without looking like a hothead going off half-cocked. And we know we can trust Obi Wan because he saved Luke's life.
35:35 When Ben invites Luke to come with him to Alderaan and learn the ways of the force, Luke is very reasonable to say no, which makes him more believable. An unstable, fundamentally unserious person would say, “You’re right, old man I just met. I’ll ditch my aunt and uncle who need me. Let’s go.” Instead, Luke says quite reasonably, “Alderaan? I’m not going to Alderaan, I’m going home. It’s late as it is.” This shows he is responsible, perhaps too much so. Ben says, “I need your help, Luke! She needs your help! I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.” (Ben, whom we implicitly trust now, is basically guaranteeing the viewer that Luke is important, needed, and valued.) Even though this is exactly the opportunity Luke has been dreaming of, he’s a canny practical peasant, and he says “I can’t get involved...I’ve got work to uncle, how am I never going to explain this?”
But even though Luke refuses to help Ben, he never refuses outright: he says, “Look, I can take you as far as Anchorhead. You can take a transport there to Mos Eiseley or wherever you’re going.” Another telling line! A bad screenwriter would have Luke say, “Look, I have to go home, so you’re on your own, here’s your droid, good luck, bye.” A slightly better screenwriter would have Luke say, “Look Ben, I have to go home, but I can drop you off somewhere on the way. Where do you need to go?” But Luke’s actual line is great because of course Luke KNOWS the territory, he knows that if someone wants to get off the planet, they have to go to Mos Eiseley -- and that Anchorhead is the place that’s on the way between here and home. Luke is knowledgeable about his own world, he knows the lay of the land, so we trust him to learn about any new situation with the same detail and depth. Luke is no idle, impractical dreamer -- he understands the world he’s in, and uses that knowledge, and that knowledge shows in nearly every line. That makes us like him!
36:35 The bad guys have a conference on the Death Star. Vader chokes someone. Vader mentions the Force. Wait, Kenobi just mentioned the Dark Side of the Force! This stuff is real!
38:50 Luke and Kenobi and the droids come across the Jawa’s transport on their way to Luke taking Ben somewhere, and the transport is totally blown up, Jawas slaughtered. Luke puts 2 and 2 together and figures out it couldn’t have been done by sandpeople. Kenobi agrees and proves it must’ve been stormtroopers. Luke does another chain of reasoning that makes him realize that those stormtroopers must be after the droids, and so they must be going to his . . . home! Luke figures this out all by himself mostly, which makes us love him: he’s smart, he can figure stuff out! Luke jumps into his landspeeder and goes home alone, even though Ben shouts, "Wait Luke it’s too dangerous!” Luke is smart but impulsive. What’s not to like there?
40:00 Luke comes home and it’s a smoking ruin. He sees the blackened skeletons of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Another 30 second scene of us silently FEELING stuff with Luke while the music swells, and he gets the same determined look as when he stared into the setting sun after his quibbling dinner with his aunt and uncle. We already feel he’s grown a bit since then. Wait, did we really only meet this guy 23 minutes ago? He's already been through so much! There’s an implicit promise that he’ll continue to cause a lot of stuff to happen for the remaining 80 minutes.
40:40 Back to the Death Star. Leia being tortured. Man, this Empire that Luke is against is some serious bad news! Luke is against this? We root for him as David against Goliath! We want him to help this brave princess he’s seen in the hologram before she’s tortured to death!
41:20 Luke comes back to Ben and plainly states what he wants, now that his family has been killed: “I WANT TO COME WITH YOU TO ALDERAAN. THERE’S NOTHING FOR ME HERE NOW. I WANT TO LEARN THE WAYS OF THE FORCE AND BECOME A JEDI LIKE MY FATHER.” Clear, understandable, awesome, brave, adventurous goal. Surely we’ll follow Luke anywhere now!

I could go on and on.

Time and again Luke indicates -- in countless tiny ways that add up -- that he’s ready for an adventure and has the chops to deal with it. For instance, before they go into the cantina, Ben says “Watch your step, this place can get a little rough” and Luke says “I’m ready for anything.” A dozen of these lines, sprinkled throughout the script, are more effective than one big engineered artificial moment in which he demonstrates those personal qualities. Luke is game for this story, he wants to be in this story, he is going to succeed in this story! He’s not moping, not petulant, not whiny, not unkind.

More little things: Even when he’s in the rough cantina, Luke yanks the shirt of the grizzled bartender who has his back to him and orders something. Luke’s no shrinking violet! Even after the monster at the bar threatens him, and Kenobi cuts the monster’s arm off, Luke picks himself off the floor, says “I’m all right” and then there’s not a further word about it. You’d think he’d be traumatized, but he’s tough!
Where we really see Luke's mettle is in the way he constantly stands up to the more experienced and sneering Han Solo. When Han Solo tries to overcharge them for the services of the Millennium Falcon, Luke immediately blurts, in his canny farmboy bargaining way, “Ten thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that!” To which Han Solo contemptuously replies, “But who’s gonna fly it, kid? You?” At which point Luke stands up for himself -- justifiably, it turns out -- and says, “You bet I could. I’m not such a bad pilot myself. We don’t have to sit here and listen to this...” And he gets up to leave -- but when Kenobi indicates he sit down, Luke acquiesces, and Kenobi finishes the bargaining. Luke is a hothead, but he isn’t a dick, and he’ll follow the advice of the guy who has stuck out his neck for him twice. Another instance of Luke being a canny practical peasant: when he sells his speeder to pay for the Millennium Falcon trip (in itself an irreversible and therefore heroic action) he can’t help but say, “Look at this, ever since the SP-38 came out, these just aren’t in demand.” He knows the value of a space dollar, and we respect that.

And so when Luke says “What a piece of junk!” upon seeing the Millennium Falcon, we’re inclined to believe him, and it sets up another way that he can be less than impressed by the less than trustworthy Han Solo. When they’re trying to leave the Tatooine system, and the star destroyers are coming after them, Luke shouts “Why don't you outrun them? I thought you said this thing was fast!” which is EXACTLY the thing you say to someone who has been boasting about how fast is spaceship is. Luke is never a docile passenger -- when Han Solo tries to bullshit his way about how much trouble they’re in, Luke reasonably snaps back “Are you kidding? At the rate they’re gaining?” He’s invested, he’s knowledgeable, he’s challenging, he has his own ideas about what’s going on, and even when he gets smacked down with Han Solo’s contemptuous “traveling through hyperspace ain’t like dusting crops, boy!” he still keeps asking questions and having ideas.

Indeed, when they get to the Death Star, it’s Luke’s idea to spring Leia out of her jail cell; further, it’s Luke’s idea to put Chewbacca in binders and pretend he's a prisoner so they can get access to the detention levels. At almost every turn, it’s Luke who has the great idea and is pushing everyone else along.

So, what’s NOT to like about Luke?

Well, I do in fact have a few things to say about that! Come back tomorrow for my rebuttal, in which I concede some points and hold my ground on others. In the meantime, let me thank James for his not-so-brief brief for the defense! Make sure to check out his novel The Order of Odd Fish and The 90 Second Newbery Festival.

Wednesday, October 08, 2014

Guest Expert James Kennedy On Why We Love Luke Skywalker, Part 2

Time for Day 2 of James Kennedy’s analysis of Luke’s introduction in Star Wars! (And when you’re done, check out the mini-masterpieces that James curates as proprietor of the 90 Second Newbery Film Festival. He’s always looking for new submission, too!)
19:30 C3P0 is taking an oil bath AND REALLY ENJOYING IT (“thank the maker!”). Who is responsible for C3P0 getting an oil bath? Well, even though we don’t see Luke putting him in, it’s clear Luke did it. Is this “Save the Cat”? In a way. Luke is making the robots feel better, which makes us feel better, because heck, after all the action those robots have seen, they deserve it! Even more importantly, Luke knows how to take care of robots and equipment -- we seem him being “good at his job” here, however humble it might be. (Maybe “good at his job” should be replaced by “comfortable with his job” on the list.) Only after the positive feeling of the scene has been established -- C3P0 jizzing over how much he loves this bath -- can we risk having Luke be totally negative and “whiny” (“It just isn’t fair. Biggs is right, I’m never getting out of here!”) But even though Luke is kind of bitching about his situation, he’s not overly emotional about it, more like resigned, which implies something more mature than a babyish tantrum. Meanwhile, all this time, Luke fixing R2D2, taking care of the very characters we’ve come to love, and who deserve some qualified care. Even though Luke “deserves better” (“It’s just not fair”), he doesn’t have an inflated sense of himself -- when C3P0 mistakenly calls him “Sir Luke,” Luke thinks it’s pretty funny and wryly laughs, saying “Just Luke” with a chuckle that means he doesn’t take himself that seriously, as if to say “Sir Luke? That’ll be the day.” (It also sets us up for the expectation of Jedi “knights” later on. C3P0 already sees Luke as a knight, even if Luke doesn’t). This winning, self-deprecating, but not whining attitude strikes just the right balance of realistic frustration without being obnoxious.
20:18 Luke says as he’s trying to fix R2, “You’ve got a lot of carbon scoring here, looks like you boys have seen some action.” Again and again, Luke doesn’t just say “what’s that?” like a slack-jawed yokel -- he has informed opinions about the world around him, and draws conclusions that usually end up being at least half right. He can accurately interpret the world he sees. He understands the universe around him, he’s at home in it, which makes us feel like he’s someone we could follow. This is not accomplished by one big obvious incident that was clearly put in by someone nervously following a checklist -- it’s dozens of small lines like this, that come out of the character, and slowly build this feeling of knowledgeable-ness.

20:26 As soon as C3P0 mentions the rebellion, Luke gets super excited. “You know about the rebellion against the Empire?” “Have you been in many battles?” He demonstrates real enthusiasm and excitement, perfectly prepared to listen even to this babbling robot. We love people who are sincerely enthusiastic and excited for worthwhile things!

20:43 Luke is trying and trying to dislodge something from R2D2. He’s been trying for a long time in this scene! Subliminal message: Luke won’t give up on solving a problem, even if it takes a long time, even if he has to force it a little.
20:48 Luke pries something out of R2 and causes the Princess Leia hologram to appear. (So he accomplished something! He’s not ineffective!) Luke is fascinated by it, and so are we, especially since we recognize Leia from earlier. Once again, Luke is canny and informed: when he asks where the hologram came from, C3P0 says R2D2 says it was a malfunction, old data that doesn’t matter, but Luke simply ignores this obviously bogus explanation (not even bothering to argue against it) because he intuits it’s important and just goes on to say “She’s beautiful!” This gives us another reason to trust Luke’s judgement: he knows this is an important thing, even though the robots are telling him ignore it. But we know it’s important. When Luke says “Is there any more of this recording?” an expectation is set up that we’ll see more, that he is motivated to find more, and when C3P0 says the next line to R2D2, he might as well be talking to the audience too: “It’s OK, you can trust him, he’s our new master!” Indeed, he’s our new hero.
21:50 As soon as C3P0 translates R2D2’s claim that he used to belong to Obi Wan Kenobi, Luke thoughtfully speculates, “I wonder if he means old Ben Kenobi.” Once again, Luke is an informed participant in this world who knows how to make a logical leap and put 2 and 2 together. He’s solving a puzzle! He goes on to say, “I wonder who she is. It sounds like she’s in trouble. I’d better play back the whole thing.” He takes action, following C3P0’s advice and removing R2D2’s restraining bolt in order to play back the rest -- a device which presumably keeps R2 on the farm. But then R2 stops playing the message! Hey, bring it back! (A form of “heroism unrewarded”?) C3P0 scolds R2D2.
23:15 In the very next scene, at dinner with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, Luke has the first line: “You know, I think that R2 unit we bought might’ve been stolen.” Again, Luke is thinking ahead, floating hypotheses, drawing conclusions, figuring stuff out. A much worse line would be: “Hey, what’s up with that R2 unit? It’s acting weird.” By giving Luke definite informed opinions about what R2D2’s problem is, we show that he’s a problem solver -- not by showing him solve big obvious problems, but just by exhibiting a problem-solving attitude, which makes us trust him. Luke goes on to float more hypotheses, conjecturing it might have to do with Ben Kenobi, which causes Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru to exchange significant glances which Luke doesn’t see -- the equivalent, socially and conversationally, of the Hitchcockian bomb-placed-under-the-table. When Luke asks Uncle Owen a direct question about it, Uncle Owen just grunts. Folks are withholding information from Luke! Just as they’re withholding info from us, the viewer! So we identify with Luke! We want to know more too, but when Luke presses Uncle Owen for more info, the old man just says, “I told you to forget it.” Hey, that’s not fair, but does Luke snap back or get snotty? Nope, he just takes it, because he’s respectful.
This is the opposite of whiny and petulant, this is mature. He knows fighting with Uncle Owen will get him nowhere, no matter how good his arguments are. He launches right into saying something positive, as if to lighten the mood: “You know, I think those new droids are going to work out fine!” But he can’t help but go on to add: “I’m also thinking about our agreement. About me staying on another season?" So we learn that Luke has made an agreement with Uncle Owen . . . an agreement, it becomes clear, that Uncle Owen is BREAKING. Luke isn’t allowed to go to flight academy this year. MAYBE he can go next year. The injustice! You can feel it! Because that wasn’t the deal! Luke deserves better than this, especially since all his friends have gone to flight school. He's being held back on the farm just so his Uncle Owen can wring more work out of him. You can tell Uncle Owen recognizes he himself is in the wrong because he stops being stern and gets a little whiny himself: “But harvest season is when we need you the most!” When Uncle Owen says, “Look, it's just one more season” and Luke replies “Yeah, that’s what you said when Biggs and Tank left,” we realize that Uncle Owen has pulled this bullshit before, that they’ve had this argument before and Luke always, unfairly, loses. Uncle Owen keeps promising him release and then keeps taking it away. Every child identifies with this!

Now: Luke’s parent figure Uncle Owen is breaking a promise to him. Does Luke yell or scream or complain? No, he excuses himself, non-dramatically. Aunt Beru says “Where are you going?” and Luke just says glumly, “It looks like I’m going nowhere. I have to go finish cleaning those droids.” So even when he is stalking off from a family argument, he’s still going to finish the cleaning chore Uncle Owen gave him. Even though he’s entitled to his emotion, he going to do his work anyway. This is whiny? This is petulant?
24:55 Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen discuss Luke. Since Luke is not in the room, the movie implicitly promises that everything they say here will be more or less true. Aunt Beru says of Luke, “He can’t stay here forever. Most of his friends are gone. It means so much to him.” (How can anyone not identify with this? Being unfairly held back while all your friends are going on to great success. Luke is practically like George Bailey, here!) Uncle Owen replies, lamely: “I’ll make it up to him next year. I promise.” No he won’t. He can’t. There’s nothing Uncle Owen can give Luke that Luke wants, that’s clear. And anyway, we all know that, any promise that is about “next year” will never be kept. So then the bombshell -- Aunt Beru says, “Luke’s not a farmer, Owen. He has too much of his father in him” and Uncle Owen responds, “That's what I’m afraid of”, now we’re truly intrigued by Luke -- there’s more to Luke than even Luke knows, and they key to it all is his father! So we’re subtly prepped for when Ben Kenobi starts talking about Luke’s father: whatever Ben says about Luke’s father (great star pilot, Jedi knight, cunning warrior) is something that is potentially true about Luke. Aunt Beru has promised it in this scene! She’s planted the seed here!
Luke goes and looks at the double sun setting and we get epic music. He looks frustrated at first, but then he bucks up and looks full of purpose. This scene takes a full 30 seconds! We’re sitting there with him, feeling with him his impossible situation, and we want so badly for him to succeed now. Now, Luke staring into a sunset while epic music plays for 30 seconds only works because of the context we’ve established up to this moment. We’ve never really spent much time with Luke alone to indicate that he’s the hero. Now, by spending 30 seconds with him after his conflict has been established, feeling that universal feeling of being held back, that there’s a bigger world out there that you have a place in, if only you could get there, Luke is irrevocably established as the hero of the movie -- he has a special place in this wild and wooly galaxy. That’s the promise this 30 second scene makes. Obviously, if this scene had happened at any time before all of his conflicts and personality had been established, this scene would be absurd. But here it makes perfect sense, and is necessary. It gives him dignity. Deep down, he’s more than a farm boy, if only the universe would give him an opportunity to prove it. Naturally, we’re starting to love him.

Come back tomorrow for Part 3!

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Guest Expert James Kennedy On Why We Love Luke Skywalker, Part 1

So this week I thought I’d do something different.  When I subjected Star Wars to my Ultimate Story Checklist, it scored very high, but the few questions it missed were fascinating to me, especially when it comes to why we like Luke.  As some of you may have noticed, whenever I mention Star Wars here, regular commenter James Kennedy (author of the delightfully deranged novel The Order of Odd Fish) chimes in with little corrections, so I figured I should pose this question to him.  Here’s the email I sent James:
  • Here’s my question: why do we love Luke Skywalker?? He certainly has no “save the cat” moment, and he basically doesn’t have a “moment of humanity” either. He’s never especially kind, or especially funny (he does make some mild wisecracks), etc. I’m running a checklist on the movie right now and he does pretty bad: We hear that he has special skills, and they’ll come in handy at the end, but we never get to see him demonstrate them onscreen in the first half. He doesn’t have much of a metaphor family or default argument tactic (other than ineffective sputtering) and his default personality is petulant whining! And yet we love him intensely!
  • Obviously the big reason is that we strongly identify with his frustrations and humiliations, but according to my little theories, that shouldn’t be enough.
  • One prime suspect is Hammil’s underrated performance, which goes a long to way to making his whining sympathetic and his longing looks at the horizon somehow stirring, but is that enough?
  • You’ve watched and analyzed this movie far more closely than I have, so I’d love to hear your thoughts: Why do we instantly love this unkind, petulant, whiny farmboy, who does nothing to win us over? 
To put it mildly, James’s response was epic. I’ll spread it over the next several posts, as James walks us through the first 30 minutes of the movie and analyzes it using both my tools and his own. I agree with most of what he says, and disagree with some of it, but I’ll save my own thoughts for next week. As for now, take it away James:

Jamess epic reply:

So! I just re-watched the first hour of STAR WARS with your comments in mind. Here’s my two cents. You say, "Why do we instantly love this unkind, petulant, whiny farmboy, who does nothing to win us over?" Come now! You know you’re being disingenuous. Luke is not actively unkind (in fact he treats the droids pretty well), and to say that he’s petulant/whiny overstates your case.

But it’s true that you’ve identified a anomaly! Luke doesn’t seem to fulfill the terms of your checklist. That's a problem, because the checklist is usually so accurate! Does the success of Luke Skywalker mean the checklist is invalid? No. Does it mean that Luke is a shitty hero and we all just got fooled into caring about him? No. Is STAR WARS a crazy, sui generis art movie like MULHOLLAND DRIVE that is outside the scope of your checklist? Nope, it's is the great-grand-daddy of all blockbusters that is explicitly used as a template for so much that came after! What is going on, then? (Actually, I think the third alternative is closest to the truth. STAR WARS secretly is a really weird movie, weirder than it gets credit for.)

Here’s my theory. The most obvious difference between STAR WARS and most popular action movies is that it’s a long, long time before we meet our hero. The first time we meet Luke, we’re already 17 minutes into the movie -- startlingly, more than an eighth of the movie is over, and we haven’t even set eyes on our supposed protagonist! Since this late arrival of the hero is the element that is most glaringly different, I suspect that that’s the reason the checklist fails.

In most movies the hero is introduced immediately, or soon after the opening credits. That has caused your checklist to conflate two issues: selling the audience on the hero and selling the audience on the movie. I think that if the audience is successfully sold on the movie early on -- through fulfilled promises, intriguing characters that are clearly in supporting roles, and a fast-moving and yet logical plot, then once the late-arriving hero is introduced, the audience’s resistance will have already been surmounted, and the filmmakers has much less work to do to make the hero heroic -- which is a particularly good strategy if you don’t want your hero to be an immediate superman, but just an ordinary dude like Luke. And since the audience is basically panting for a hero to show up by that point, they’re more likely to take what you give them.

(Actually, with almost every line and scene choice, Lucas does work hard in various small clever ways to make us like Luke, but it’s a lot of small subtle choices. I’ll outline them below.) Let’s outline everything that happens up to meeting Luke for the first time:
0:00-2:00 Opening crawl. This movie is called Star Wars, so we expect wars among the stars . . .
2:00 The first thing we see is a war among the stars! A giant Imperial ship chases a small rebel ship and captures it with lots of laser fighting and back and forth, explosions, etc. We've already gotten a glance at what a war among the stars looks like! The promise of “star wars" has already been fulfilled. The audience feels a little bit better: OK, they think, this movie knows how to deliver the goods! (Think of how much more difficult it would be, what a harder sell it would be, if we started on Tatooine, with Luke being frustrated -- even if he was watching the battle above with binoculars, as he was in the original script. No, we want to start with the most thrilling thing the movie can offer! The problem with zero-to-hero stories is that the STORY often starts at zero just as the hero. But that's a mistake, we have to at least see a hint of the kind of world the main character will contend with once he becomes a hero. This is why RAIDERS starts with Indiana Jones hunting for treasures in Peru, not in the classroom or university office waiting for his mission.)
4:40 Darth Vader enters. Clearly not the hero. So far we’ve also met R2D2 and C3P0, but since they’re not humans and are kind of comical, we don’t identify with them as heroes either. We certainly don’t identify with the cannon fodder rebels or storm troopers, who are all dressed the same. We’re worried for R2D2 and C3P0, and we’re interested in following them, but we don’t think of them as heroes, because they’re not humans -- and one of them is completely incomprehensible! If either of those robots had been a human instead, this trick of making us wait a long time for the hero wouldn’t have worked -- we would’ve been tempted to think of one of this pair as the hero, and then gotten some feeling of “hero confusion” when Luke does show up. The only way this effect of delaying the hero could be replicated in a “realistic” movie is if we were following the adventures of an animal or a guileless child. We do like these funny robots, we think they’re cute and amusing and we wish them well, but we’re never tempted to tag them as heroes. Consciously or unconsciously, we’re still waiting for a hero to come -- and the longer we wait (up to a point) the more strongly we’ll bond with the hero once he’s clearly presented.
5:00 Princess Leia appears from the shadows, gives R2 something, and runs away. If Leia did more, we’d be tempted to think of her as a hero, but she’s such a fleeting presence we’re not tempted to. Crucially, the thing she does is interact with R2D2, one of the folks we already kind of care about.
7:00 R2D2 and C3P0 blast off in an escape pod. One of the things that's a nice touch here, that STAR WARS does again and again, is show bit characters logically reacting to what's going on, so that we know this is a world that makes sense. As the escape pod blasts off, we see an imperial officer with a space bazooka say "there's another one" and it about to blow it up, but the other officer says something like, "Don't blow it up, it says there are no life forms on board, it must just be a malfunction." This tells us the imperials know the escape pod went to Tatooine, but let it go on purpose -- it wasn't a mistake. It's better in a story for everything to be on purpose rather than be a mistake. If this scene hadn't been in here, some nitpicker might've come along later and said, "If the Empire cared so much about capturing the blockade runner, why'd they let the escape pod go?" Even if this tiny 5-second scene doesn't totally answer the question (what would it cost the empire, really, to blow up the escape pod anyway?) it sets up a world in which everything is tightly connected, step by step, with a plausible chain of cause-and-effect, and if there's something weird, the filmmakers will make a good-faith effort to logically explain it -- so that functions as a guarantee to the audience that they don't have to get nervous about being lost in this crazy new world, even though it's going to be a fast, wild ride. Indeed, probably the faster and wilder the ride, the more the filmmakers has to make sure to be absolutely clear with the audience what's going on, and to add these little grace notes like this conversation between the two imperial gunners -- basically, it means the filmmakers are taking this world seriously. It's a bigger world than the hero and his story; he fits into a vast ecology of characters with their own goals and roles. So when the universe seems to give our heroes a "freebie" like this, a piece of improbable good luck, it's best also to throw in a plausible explanation as to why it happened, rather than, "well I guess they got lucky!" This helps sell the audience on the movie -- and by extension, on Luke once he appears. We'll trust that he's there for a logical reason because everything else so far has happened for a logical reason.
7:30 Vader confronts Leia. We find out precisely WHY Vader took over the ship and it makes sense. Crucially, Vader is always 2 steps ahead of everyone. He will see through your lies, which adds to his scariness. (VADER: “Don’t ask so surprised, your highness. You weren’t on any mercy missions this time. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by rebel spies. I want to know what happened to those plans they sent you.” He doesn’t have to ask, or torture the info out of her; he just knows. LEIA: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission -- ” VADER: “You are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor. Take her away.” Basically, I see through your bullshit, don’t even try.)
8:00 Vader talks to some imperial officers and realizes the plans must've been in the escape pod. Wait -- Vader figures stuff out and is resourceful! He has clear goals! It's almost as if . . . he's the hero! Indeed, that's what MUST happen at the beginning, if you choose not to establish a clear hero early on: since we don't have a hero to fulfill the various points on the checklist, every other supporting character onscreen has to work overtime to pick up the slack fulfilling those points. Everyone we meet in the 17 minutes before we meet Luke is working hard for something specific and physical (Vader - recovering the plans, Rebels - defending their ship, R2-D2 - delivering the plans, C3P0 - saving his skin, Leia - sending the plans to Kenobi, Jawas - collecting and selling robots -- and every character is full of clear personality and goals. Nobody is just standing around. We are introduced into a universe where everyone wants very specific stuff, and they want it bad, and they're working for it. So when Luke eventually appears, the audience will expect the same about him.)
9:00 C3P0 and R2D2 are lost on Tatooine. They argue and go their separate ways. C3P0 gets lost in the desert, alone. Spots a transport and waves at it, trying to hitch a lift.
11:20 R2D2 is in a valley, alone. Gets captured by Jawas and taken to their transport. Inside the Jawa transport. R2D2 and C3P0 reunite at 15:00.
15:10 The storm troopers have landed on Tatooine. They've found the escape pod and they've found some signs of droids. his means the droids are trouble, because the stormtroopers will track them down wherever they go, so whoever gets them next -- that is, Luke -- is in lethal trouble.
16:00 The jawas force the robots to get out of the transport to sell them
17:00 We see Luke for the first time. But notice that even here, he's not the principal player in this scene. The guy who drives the scene is Uncle Owen, interrogating C3P0, haggling with Jawas. Luke is introduced as just one more small player in the massive, complex, dangerous world that's been built up to now. He's literally in the background. We see him helping out his uncle and being respectful to his Aunt Beru. He feels like a realistic kid out in the middle of nowhere -- which every suburban kid, like me, identified with. (Why am I stuck here in the middle of nowhere when all the action is clearly somewhere else?!)

Luke is the first person we’ve seen so far who isn’t a monster, or an old person. The youthful audience will naturally bond with him. And since we’re basically dying for a hero now, he comes like water in the desert, and we’re prepared to cut him all kinds of slack. We’re prepared to let him act a little less like a stereotypical hero and more like a regular kid. This is a great opportunity for the filmmaker. The worst thing right now would be for Luke to have an overly strong personality.
18:00 Uncle Owen buys C3P0 and another robot that isn't R2D2. He tells Luke "have these droids cleaned up by sundown" and Luke replies with the famous line that everyone claims is petulant and whiny: "But I was going into Tosche station to pick up some power converters!" What is it really whiny? All it means is, Luke was a real person before this scene began, and he had his own plans! Plans he was probably entitled to! When his uncle shuts him down with "You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done," every kid will identify with that. It's important that Luke has friends -- we don't trust people who don't have friends. And pace Uncle Owen, no time with your friends is "wasted" -- this old man clearly doesn't understand how important hanging out with friends is! Furthermore, cleaning the robots is obviously a new chore that is just now being added to a list of chores that it seems Luke has completed. But Luke does still obey Uncle Owen without question -- he's not a brat.

And here's an even more crucial thing: the story has put Luke in charge of these robots--the robots we've come to care about so much in the first 15-odd minutes, and the robots that the Empire will stop at nothing to recover! So Luke is the steward of something important, which makes us interested in him. And he's put in a position of authority -- it's clear that in this society, robots are almost the lowest of the low (only Jawas are lower) and so we have an implicit promise from the movie that Luke isn't a complete peon. He has a status that's somewhere in the middle: below Uncle Owen, but above the droids. (If a character is truly the lowest of the low, we eventually lose interest in them as a hopeless case. That's why it's important to have Neville Longbottom in Harry Potter -- Neville is even less confident than Harry at school, even more childish, he's someone who has even lower status. I think the general rule can be stated, if the hero is situated low on the social scale, but it has to be middle low, not all the way low; show at least one person who is lower, so we can unconsciously calibrate the social scale.)
18:40 Uncle Owen buys the "wrong" red R2 unit at first. Oh no, R2D2 and C3P0 are going to be separated! We feel bad about it! But then the red R2 unit blows up. Tellingly, Luke immediately knows what's wrong with it -- he doesn't just say, "What the heck!" but he says "Uncle Owen, this R2 unit has a bad motivator. Look!" This establishes another reason we like Luke, which we'll see again and again: Luke might not enjoy being a farmboy on Tatooine, but he's really good at it. He works hard and draws knowledgeable, canny conclusions about the stuff that happens around him. He knows the area and he knows the value of money. We'll see this again and again going forward.

19:00 C3P0 advises Luke to buy R2D2 instead, Luke takes his advice, which we really wanted to happen, because seeing R2D2 and C3P0 get separated again would make us sad. We like the action Luke takes here, which makes us like him. That said, after Luke takes C3P0’s advice, he subtly waves the robot silent when C3P0 blathers on. Luke is a canny, practical peasant: he can tell right away, just as we can, that C3P0 talks too much. (A worse choice, that would’ve superficially “made sense,” would be for Luke to be fascinated by what this golden robot had to say. But Luke comes pretty quickly to the conclusion we already know: C3P0 has almost nothing important to say. When Luke comes to an accurate conclusion like that so quickly, we trust him more.)

19:10 “Okay, let’s go,” Luke sighs as he takes the robots indoors. This sighing would be intolerable if Luke were the focus of the scene. But he isn’t the focus, which allows him to get away with this human moment. The emotions we really care about in this scene are R2D2 and C3P0’s (“Don’t you forget this. Why I should stick out my neck for you is beyond my capacity...”) There’s a good lesson in this, maybe: if, in order to keep your hero plausible, your hero has to indulge in some negative action or emotion that would make him seem unheroic, just make the emotion or reaction occur in the background or be implied offscreen.

Come back tomorrow for Part 2!