An Appreciation of Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

As an 80s kid, there was never just one singular Star Wars movie. The original three films constituted a complete, coherent trilogy, and to watch the entire saga meant sitting through all three movies beginning-to-end. In this respect, The Empire Strikes Back was always the obligatory middle bit. In my youth, I regarded it as that cool film with the walking machines in the snow, the Millennium Falcon navigates an asteroid field, Luke falls down a hole in some sky city, R2 spits mud, and Yoda trolls everybody. There's plenty to love.

Oh no! They're striking back! RUN!

As an adult who frequently engages the film forums, I find that Episode V always tops everybody's lists of all-time favorite films. Even more than the '77 original. And it's not hard to see why--the film is damn near perfect. The story is on-point in the way it continues the adventure and pits existing characters against dangerous new enemies and perils. It's to the point where the story takes daring twists that offer compelling challenges, and this extends to the famous reveal in which Darth Vader tells Luke "No, I am your father!" Just five words, but the dramatic weight hits squarely in the audience's hearts and minds. It forces us to recontextualize everything that was told to us in the previous episode, and it sets up personal stakes that have to be reconciled in the next. It's such a famous line and moment that it's been parodied and spoken ad nauseam--often incorrectly to add context outside of the movie, resulting in a Mandela Effect (which is just bogus in my opinion, Vader always said "No" first).

As a film, I can't fault it for anything. Cinematography is top-notch. Acting bears a lot more gravitas than in A New Hope, and it works. The production looks decent, to the point of pushing the scope and scale of the movie and showing exciting new ships, monsters, and effects. And, of course, the writing is decent.

And yet, I find it hard to get excited over this episode like everyone else. When I was younger, I found myself bored with certain parts (most especially the Cloud City scenes). In my later years, I've fallen asleep during it. It seems unheard of to be bored, but in time I realized why this happened. There is such a thing as being too perfect, and this film is the prime example of it.

The Riddle of the Middle

Wow. So exciting. Much adventure.

Most of my gripes about The Empire Strikes Back stems from the nature of the film--as the middle part of the trilogy, it achieves all the things that the middle of any story should do. But that is the entire film, and it has the effect of dampening action, both dramatic and theatrical. It shouldn't be the case given the sheer amount of action the film has--we spend the first quarter or so of the movie watching the Battle of Hoth, and everything afterwards is the Empire chasing the Falcon.

And yet, that's part of the problem--most of the film is driven by chases. It is interesting and exciting when the Falcon hits the asteroid field, encounters the exogorth, or hides on the side of a Star Destroyer. But every other scene involving the Falcon seems to be about flying from (or even flying towards) Star Destroyers with little more variance. And it all happens again when they leave Bespin and have to evade the Executor one last time. By that point, I just want the film to end already.

Even outside of the space chase scenes, we're treated to scenes that are either characters talking a lot (which happens on Hoth, Bespin, and Dagobah), or characters running from one point to another--throughout the last act it feels as though Leia, Lando, and the two droids spend their time rushing across the whole city, and it becomes repetitive and tiring.

My fatigue stems from the movie's place in the overall trilogy. Even though A New Hope has a complete three-act structure on its own, it also serves as the first act of an overarching three-act trilogy. It is the film that introduces the core characters, the universe they live in, and important concepts like the Force. As the middle part of the trilogy, The Empire Strikes Back has the burden of lifting the second act of the trilogy, which means bridging the story from the beginning (which is enthralling in how it hooks the audience and pulls them into a sweeping space adventure) and the end (which is enthralling in how it wraps all the lingering strands together in a grand finale). What does the middle offer? Changes primarily, and it's good because the film makes the effort to evolve the characters through challenges and failure. But in a series that's most memorable for its epic battles and special effects, the film makes the unusual decision to front-load itself with its biggest setpiece (the Hoth battle) and leave the rest to focus on the story. It is an important story worth telling, but the structure has the odd effect of seeming to diminish more as it goes on. I suspect this is because the biggest stakes are with the Hoth battle, and everything else at the film's actual climax is whittled down to strictly personal stakes. To me, it betrays the film's role as a middle chapter, not as a film that can stand on its own.

Laugh It Up, Fuzzball

It wouldn't be Star Wars without some kind of comedy, and there are some great zingers in Episode V. And yet, after hearing the lines hundreds of times, they don't make me laugh anymore. I think the film's funnier parts occur with Yoda's introduction and some of the bickering between Han and Leia. But every other funny scene is usually something with C-3PO, who comes off as incredibly annoying. That's probably because everything he says is contrarian or a complaint. And it seems to be done on purpose to generate some of that comedic banter between him, Han, Chewie, and everyone else. For the most part, I just wanted him to shut up.

The bigger issue with the comedy is that it's so on-point that it doesn't really surprise, please, or illicit laughter. It's just kinda there. You see it coming. You see it going. That only leaves the dramatic scenes to carry the movie, which they do admirably. But it has the effect of draining the life out of this film. It's all important and I wouldn't ask for the film to be made any other way, because it really is perfect. But in its perfection, it is missing a certain spark or pop that made A New Hope, Return of the Jedi, and The Force Awakens so much fun. Heck, I even get a kick out of all the ill-advised humor of The Last Jedi.

I suppose that most film fans are drawn to the dark, dry, serious nature of Episode V, and many probably wish that all of the films in the series had this same quality. For whatever odd reason, I prefer a little more camp and goofiness in my Star Wars diet. Without those qualities, it all comes off as overly stiff.

One Perfect Twist

"Junior, give me your other hand!"

Despite all the qualities I dislike about the film, one can't help but to admire the one thing it's most remembered for--the "I am your father" twist. This scene could have gone any number of ways--the original script read it as if Vader told Luke that Obi-Wan killed his father, but the real reveal was kept under wraps and not given to the actors until they were on-set. Even the cast members were blown-away by the big twist.

It's all led up to this moment--all the exposition given in A New Hope set up audiences to accept Luke as the son of some great Jedi who was betrayed and murdered by Vader. To conflate Vader and Anakin as one and the same is a jarring revelation with immense implications. The first and most obvious issue that's addresses is that Obi-Wan lied (or told the truth from his "point of view," suggesting that Vader and Anakin are two separate and distinct personalities, one good and one evil). Luke vocalizes this inconsistency in the film, assuring us that the filmmakers didn't forget what Obi-Wan told Luke originally--it's simply a good question for another time.

What has probably captivated audience's imaginations the most is simply the notion of being related to evil. One could read into the lore a little and realize that at some point Anakin had to turn on the Jedi Order and do some pretty nasty things to become Darth Vader (and this is indeed shown in the prequel trilogy). Vader is no longer just a two-bit Imperial thug, he is a fallen hero. This puts Luke in the precarious position--as the next in the bloodline, he may have inherited all of Vader's traits and capacity for evil (and we see this emerge in Return of the Jedi, even if just briefly).

Vader's character is further deepened by this twist thanks to the way it reveals his motivations. Despite him and Luke being enemies, Vader never shows any intention of killing Luke outright. Everything he does in the movie he does to preserve Luke's life, which shows that he cares deep down. This may be the sliver of good that Luke sees in him. Vader seems to always cover this up by promising the Emperor that Luke will be turned to the Dark Side. What winds up happening is that Vader's actions say one thing and his words say another--this in turn shows the inner conflict he feels concerning his son.

It is at this moment in the series that the past, present, and future intersect and becomes a sucker-punch to Luke's face. His realization is a profound turning point for the series, for it is the precise moment in which the pretense of his youthful adventures are town down and he's shown a cold, cynical truth that will affect who he becomes. It's a turning point that just about any good character will go through in order to change, and a changing character is the most profound type. All great stories have changing (or dynamic) characters in some form--Luke's pattern is on-point, and we can all tell by the film's end that he won't be the same after all these events.

Luke's decision immediately after the reveal is to simply fall. This simple action shows that he was more willing to sacrifice himself than to succumb to evil, regardless of the fact that it was his father temping him. This is the last hurdle he overcomes before returning in the next chapter as a matured Jedi Knight. This is the moment he changes--the culmination of a long string of lessons and failures.

That Is Why He Fails

Very helpful Ben. Thanks.

Luke's arc in A New Hope was subtle, amounting to little more than realizing his full potential with the Force. It is a big enough step to make the movie feel uplifting and triumphant, but Luke doesn't change as a character. The person he was at the beginning remains the same by the end.

The same is not true by the end of The Empire Strikes Back. When we first see Luke, he seems chipper as ever. Just moments into the film, he's smacked by a wampa and dragged to an ice cave to be eaten. Even though he uses the Force to escape (really, him relying on the same heroic qualities that were established beforehand), he faces the next problem of surviving in the wilds. He only gets out of this mess when Han saves him (and later a snowspeeder squad).

After the battle of Hoth, Luke is on his own. He manages to crash his X-Wing on Dagobah, and it looks hopeless that he'll be able to leave again. He searches for Yoda, finds the little guy right under his nose, but doesn't have the foresight to see through Yoda's pretense and recognize him as the Jedi Master. Yoda himself shows skepticism that Luke actually has what it takes, but the training commences anyway on Obi-Wan's insistence. What follows is a training montage with a string of lessons--just about all of them stem from Luke's misunderstanding of the world or an outright failure to complete a task.

Luke spends the entire movie falling flat on his face--a complete opposite of A New Hope, where he had so much success and enabled the Rebels' victory. The things that made him successful in the past now work against him--his impulsiveness, nativity, and lust for adventure. All of that, combined with his relationship to Han and Leia, forces him to fall right into Vader's trap, where he experiences the ultimate failure. He isn't able to save Han in the end. Leia and the others save themselves before saving Luke, now battered and missing a hand.

The events of the film, like life itself, had beaten Luke to the point of humility. The lessons of Yoda and the words of Vader stick with him because his previous experiences without all that knowledge had failed him. With new knowledge and experience, he will come back stronger and wiser. Thus, a character is successfully morphed through the process of repeatedly failing.

All of this also has the effect of reinforcing Yoda's speech concerning a Jedi's indifference towards adventure and action. As an adventure film, Empire Strikes Back places much emphasis on danger and peril, to the point where it's bleaker, crueler, and more nihilistic than any other Star Wars film. From the opening scene onward, everything in the universe seems to want to kill or hurt Luke, including his own father. Any pretense he has about "adventure" in its most idealistic form (something that A New Hope emphasized more) is torn down, adding to the truth and humility that Luke experiences.

Of course, all of this taking up one movie makes the experience a downer. Some folks find this admirable for a Star Wars film, and I'll admit that the mournful finale fits the tone and story aptly. That doesn't make it satisfying though. There is still an Empire to fight. Luke will have to face his father again at some point. Han is still in peril. The whole galaxy remains oppressed. Even though Return of the Jedi addresses all these points, I could never truly accept the ambiguous ending of Empire Strikes Back as the end of a stand-alone adventure--it might as well end with a big "to be concluded" title card.

The Power of the Dark Side

So many stars, so many wars...

Despite my reservations about the film's pacing, structure, and a certain "stiffness" to its presentation, there are other things to admire. And those things are:

• As a film, it is indeed objectively better than A New Hope and Return of the Jedi. This extends to:
• The script--it's on-point and I really can't recall any lines I consider to be awkward or goofy.
• The performances, all on-point.
• The production design, now seeming bigger and expanded with a wider range of filming locations, big sets, elaborate props and costumes, and elaborate special effects (including a whole new slew of awesome-looking ship and vehicle models, new creatures, and more).
• Sound design, which is strong and punchy.
• John Williams' music score, which is still phenomenal.
• The filming style, which I believe is something Irvin Kershner brought to the table. Camera angles are often really interesting, and there are a few movements that evoke a stronger emotion--it's a grade more powerful than George Lucas' style, which is more distant and objective in nature.
• The film expands on the Star Wars universe in pretty exciting ways. Some of the great new things we see in the film include:
• Ice planet Hoth, with its tauntauns, wampas, and blizzards.
• A slew of technology, including probe droids, bigger Star Destroyers, TIE Bombers, AT-ATs, AT-STs, Snowspeeders, cloud cars, and carbonite freezing. Among other things.
• A city in the clouds. In fact, it's not that common to see (or read about) settlements on gas giants, and I admire that Bespin is something more unusual and exotic than a typical exoplanet.
• We see the exogorth--a huge creature literally living in the vacuum of space. 
• We are introduced to Yoda.
• We see the Emperor for the first time. Which only makes sense for a Galactic Empire. Duh.
• We see bounty hunters for the first time, of which Boba Fett gets his fair share of the spotlight--enough to peg him as a quiet, dastardly villain, but not to the point of overkill.
• We see the Force being used in a more tangible way, with Luke using it to lift things for the first time. We also see the Dark Side in more use as Vader chokes his command staff arbitrarily and throws things at Luke. We are also introduced to the notion of the Force being used to foresee future events.
• We see Force ghosts for the first time. In A New Hope, we only heard them.
• This may be more of a character-driven reveal, but it is worth noting that we see a brief glimpse of Vader without his helmet from the back of his head. The scarring we see is an important indication that Vader is still a human being beneath his suit and mask, and he suffered through horrific pain previously--pain that shaped him into an icon of evil.
• One scene that stands out is the scene where Luke crawls into a cave and fights a vision of Vader. When he beheads Vader, the mask explodes and Luke sees his own face. One could argue that this scene stops the movie dead in favor of a metaphor, which becomes shorthand for the psychological conflict Luke faces. And yet, this is one of those scenes that encapsulates what the film is about thematically, and I feel it's important enough to warrant the extra few minutes to watch. The battle with oneself is probably the most compelling conflict any story can tackle, and this is a creative (and visual) way for the film to address it.
• As I mentioned in my post about Attack of the Clones, the romance between Han and Leia works pretty well. And it works not because the characters tell their feelings outright, and nothing in the script tells us that they love each other. It is shown, gradually as they spend time bickering and sniping each other, before drawing closer in the midst of conflict and finding chemistry. All of this happens because the characters change each other--Han stuck with the rebellion across two movies, proving to Leia that he's not just a scoundrel. Leia in turn lightens up around Han. Opposites always attract, and it makes sense for these two to come together. It even gets to the point where their fighting becomes a form of playful banter, and it's kind of charming that way. Even the whole "I love you" "I know" exchange is on point (it's worth noting that the cast spent a lot of time deciding on Han's best response in this scene). 
• I like how Piett watches all his fellow officers die, and he winds up living in the end despite losing the Falcon in the last scene. There's a morbid irony to his constant promotions.

It is a perfect film in the end. So much so that I find it a tad overrated. And yet, I wouldn't fault anybody for praising it as the best or an all-time favorite--the film does exactly what it's supposed to do with competency, emotion, and thought. I just wish there was more zing to it--something that A New Hope and Return of the Jedi provide with their spirited adventurism and humor, but it comes at the expense of gravitas.

What's admirable is that The Empire Strikes Back is a film that beats the sh*t out of its hero and leaves him half-way dead, hand-less, and hanging off the bottom end of Cloud City, left wondering about all the lies he was fed throughout his sheltered life. It might even resonate more with me now, in a time when I'm personally reflecting on failures and the misconceptions I once believed in. Watching the Empire strike back is hardly a feel-good experience (and it tries my patience sometimes), but it is an important step in the overarching journey of Luke Skywalker and his eventual rise as a Jedi Knight.