An Appreciation of Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

In 1983, two things happened of rather significant importance to me personally. First, I was born. Yay! Second, the original Star Wars trilogy ended with Return of the Jedi. This would be the last adventure for a generation, in which evil will be vanquished once and for all.

Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational third act climax!

Return of the Jedi is one of a fistful of movies that made me appreciate the cathartic value of a grand finale. The film is as grand as they come, and to this day, I’d contend that the Battle of Endor boasts the best-looking space battle on film. The sheer ambition with the models, animation, and scale really shows in the final product. All of that juxtapose to all the shenanigans in Jabba’s palace and Endor’s forests, and the film exudes the same spirit of adventure I loved in A New Hope, but with more polish.

Of course, the film is hardly perfect. But I’m okay with that, especially given my feelings over the perfection of The Empire Strikes Back. There are goofy moments in Return of the Jedi, but I never minded them at all. To me, this movie represents a return to joy and the spirit of adventure. But the most important thing the film does is resolve the lingering threads of previous films and achieve a genuinely satisfying conclusion.

One Perfect Finale

If the entire Star Wars trilogy is a three-act story overall, then Return of the Jedi embodies the entire last act—in itself, an all-out climax. And really, the film is a long string of action sequences—half of which takes place on Tatooine to resolve the issue with Han, and the other half takes place on Endor for everything else. Scenes in between on Dagobah and Sulust are very brief before the “endgame” commences. What keeps me glued to the screen the whole time is that both halves of the story are built-up by having the characters make a plan and execute it. Their plans ultimately don’t work, causing them to improvise, adapt, and execute new plans throughout the story. This keeps the battle scenes rolling for very long, consistent periods of time without coming off as repetitive, boring, or overly-noisy.

There is a crap-ton of action in Return of the Jedi, but the moments in between the action remain compelling thanks to the way the scenes address the characters and the outstanding conflict between them. Previous films had set up at least a couple of arcs that needed to be resolved—the biggest and most important one is between Luke and his father. This in turn winds up tapping into an implicit conflict between Vader and the Emperor. It all collides in the Throne Room fight, which remains my favorite scene in the whole series. The actual fight is incredible in the raw emotional power Luke shows as he’s tempted by the Dark Side and skirts its edge. But what happens afterwards are the moments that alters the galaxy’s destiny—Luke chooses the way of the Jedi (through non-violence) once and for all. When the Emperor tries to kill him, Vader chooses to overthrow him (literally), thus choosing his son’s life over his own well-being once and for all. These choices, though simple, result in consequences that lead to an Emperor’s demise, a father’s atonement, and a hero’s affirmation in goodness. This is the way the Jedi returned. All of it carries an emotional power that hits me harder than everything in The Empire Strikes Back.

There are other threads that are wrapped up. The three-way love triangle between Luke, Leia, and Han is tidily resolved by pegging Leia as Luke’s sister, which seems to make Leia’s relationship with Han more validated (even if it makes the kissy scenes with Luke more cringey). In the scene where Luke tells Leia about their relationship, we can see a brief burst of tension erupting when Leia pushes Han away. This lasts only a moment before Han turns around and apologizes—I appreciate this moment because it shows a certain nobility in Han, and in turn this shows how far he’s come since the first movie.

The issue of Obi-Wan telling Luke a different story about his father is addressed, and it never was a hard thing to fix anyway. All it took was Obi-Wan's ghost reappearing and brushing it all off as a "different point-of-view," suggesting that he never really lied because to him Anakin had actually died and was supplanted by Vader as an alter ego. It does little to mask the disparity between movies--I am pretty certain that Vader being Luke's father was never planned in A New Hope, so this becomes a kind of retcon. But for all intents and purposes, this is a sufficient explanation. What helps is that it remains within Obi-Wan's character--he always had a sly way of nudging Luke in certain directions, and if you rewatch A New Hope with the sequels in mind, it seems as though he does know more about Vader than he's willing to admit.

By the film's end, all the heroes unite in a victory celebration. All the antagonists--both major and minor--are dispatched in some way. The Empire is (supposedly) fallen. There are no story questions left to answer. No more threads left hanging (although the adventure can continue in a new era or generation, as numerous novels and the Disney movies proved). The film ends on a high note, with Luke and all his companions together, and the ghosts of Anakin, Yoda, and Obi-Wan watching them fondly. It's as good of an ending as I could ask for from this film series.

Jabba No Bother

Jabba is amused by his own subplot.

Han could have been written out of the movie entirely, given the behind-the-scenes tension between Harrison Ford and George Lucas. The actor had expressed an unwillingness to continue playing the role, which promoted the direction in Empire Strikes Back to freeze Han and have him shipped away. Ford ultimately did return for one more episode, and it does prompt the story to address how he’ll rejoin the team of heroes for the final fight. Jabba the Hutt was always teased in the previous two movies, so this subplot always felt inevitable to me. One lingering thread that had to be addressed.

Scenes in Jabba’s palace always interested and excited me. It is a literal hive of scum and villainy—there is an air of sleaze, grotesqueness, and grit that’s very fitting in a series full of bounty hunters, smugglers, and rebels. It’s as if they took the cantina scene in A New Hope and amplified it tenfold.

The film has a sly way of stringing its audience along, first following the two droids into the palace with no context concerning what will happen. They are unaware of the full plan, so we are too--when Luke's hologram reveals that the two droids are to be gifted to Jabba, it's a shock to all of us, and it's one of the first twists that happens in the whole sequence. The next big surprise is that the bounty hunter claiming Chewbacca's bounty is actually Leia, and she's the one who frees Han (although Jabba anticipates this move and captures them all--fortunately, Lando remains hidden among his rabble, so we know that there's more to the plan). At this point, Luke enters the palace to take care of the rest. I don't think he goes in with a plan at this point, but he prepares himself by hiding his lightsaber in R2 (who is now also among Jabba's gang). By the time they're all on the sail barge, all the pieces Luke needs for success are in place, and it's just a matter of fighting his way out (which, in turn, comes together thanks to how all the heroes overcome their respective challenges--Leia kills Jabba, R2 saves C3PO, Han saves Lando, Boba Fett is killed by accident).

It is inherently satisfying to watch the heroes succeed though their own machinations. But it would have been really boring if their plan went off without a hitch. There is no way they could have expected Jabba to discover and capture Leia, or trap Luke in the Rancor pit. For these instances, Luke had to rely on improvisation to escape danger and protect his friends--this called for a combination of skill, luck, guile, adaptation, and strength to get out of it all alive. These are all heroic traits that Luke embodies--he's had some of them since the beginning, but with his experience and past failures, he taps into his qualities in a more sublime way.

Luke Skywalker, Rise

Luke's greatest enemy--his own right hand.

One can argue that Luke has no real arc in Return of the Jedi. He remains the same person in the end of the movie as he is in the beginning. In between this and Empire Strikes Back, there is a notable difference--after all the defeat he faced before, he bounced back stronger, wiser, calmer, and more prepared. That alone made him a much more appealing character, and I love watching him kick butt throughout the movie.

In the last couple of movies, Luke's role in combat has been rather modest. He did land the winning shot against the Death Star, took down a few walkers on Hoth, but he's had very few scenes where he's shown in shootouts, duels, and close quarters fighting. In Return of the Jedi, Luke is finally given a plethora of scenes where he's the centerpiece of the fighting--he fights against the Rancor and wins (without the use of his lightsaber nonetheless), he escapes execution and fights a small army of ruffians on skiffs, he takes out scout troopers on speeder bikes, and in the end he lands a crippling blow against Vader. He has way more awesome wins here than in any other movie. All of this could only happen here because of the nature of his arc--at this point of the story, he has finally gained the skills necessary to become a more formidable fighter. It's a far cry from the whiny farmboy he started out as.

And yet, there are more important traits he shows that he's never had before. Patience, for one. He comes off as a calmer, quieter character who doesn't rush into combat or show as much impulse. Many of the exchanges he has with other characters are heartfelt and somber, in contrast to previous movies where he seems to brim with energy.

Luke's temper is tested in the end, but even in those moments he knows better than to cross the line into rage and he chooses to discard his weapon rather than to murder his own father. With this action--one of the most important character decisions in the series--he chooses nonviolence, which reflects the Jedi way (at least in a fundamental form, the Jedi Order is shown in the prequels to have become warfighters, but that may have been one of the reasons why it collapsed in the end).

The contrast Luke shows with his former self shows that he has changed, and he makes the final transformation in the movie's endgame. I've known one or two people who've said that in final victory over the Emperor Luke becomes useless. He just lies there and lets himself become zapped, calling out for his father for mercy. This is a moment where all the badass traits seem to dissolve, and you could say that Luke becomes a wimp. And yet, this is an inevitable direction to push Vader to make the right choice. It might even be the case where Luke martyrs himself on purpose, to help save his dad. Either way, this becomes Vader's victory in the end moreso than Luke's. And that's the point--a villain becomes redeemed, and Luke would go on to become the person Anakin failed to become.

Luke is a character I could always take or leave in the other movies, but in Return of the Jedi, all these aspects makes him much more interesting in my eyes.

It's A Trap!

Eywa is not pleased.

As I noticed with The Phantom Menace, Return of the Jedi handles its last battle by layering multiple narratives and intercutting between them. Once the Battle of Endor commences, it gradually unspools into a sprawling conflict that takes place on the planet's surface and in space. Both arenas have their heroes who have to overcome a myriad of obstacles and problems. It's especially deceptive since it seems like it'd be a straightforward victory, but the ground forces are ambushed and captured before they can rig up the bunker to explode, and the Rebel Fleet is caught between the Death Star II's shields and the Imperial fleet.

Between the two arenas, things only get worse. The Rebel Fleet falls under fire from the Death Star's main cannon, and the Ewoks seem to fail repeatedly. Yes, it's silly that the Ewoks are involved at all, but the way I see it their victory is enabled with one fairly creditable twist--it happens when Chewbacca takes over an AT-ST and obliterates the other walkers. Once that happens, Han has a way to fool the Imperials into opening the bunker, and it allows them to finally take out the shield generator. Ewoks alone couldn't have done this--they were best served as a distraction to spring the heroes from captivity (and as a kind of guerilla fighters, they did succeed in a few minor wins). The original concept to use Wookies on Kashyyk would have probably been more awesome, but I wouldn't want to mess with no Ewok either. Those little psychos nearly ate the main characters.

These threads are further entwined with the Luke/Vader/Emperor fight in the throne room. What's notable is that the Emperor's threats offer some short-lived dramatic irony, as he tells Luke outright about the forest ambush and the operational Death Star canon.

The way the three narratives are cut overlap each other so that dialogue and actions in each have impacts across the whole battle. It allows the battle to carry on for nearly half the movie without suffering any drag. Even the most prolonged sequence is pieced together from a myriad of micro-tensions and scenes that always pit the heroes against new challenges, forcing them to improvise as they go. Victories do eventually happen, but the film is careful to show a string of failures leading up to them (which includes seeing some Ewoks getting blasted, some rebel fighters exploding, rebels losing space and ground, and the heroes losing their chances or opportunities to gain an upper hand). The problems have gravity that weighs things down, but when there's an upswing it feels quite triumphant.

There are films where the ebb and flow of battle are less prevalent, or even non-existent, and it results in long battle scenes that bore audiences. It could be that some of these movies fail to engage their characters in the events, or vice-versa. Characters might not be in danger at all, so the stakes fall flat and we wind up not caring about them. For the most part though, it boils down to spectacle overriding the story--it's obnoxious at best and exhausting at worst. Thirty or more minutes of Endor is consistently brisk and fun--by comparison, thirty minutes of anything from Michael Bay's Transformers series will make you want to gouge your eyes out. Thirty minutes of the Metropolis fight in Man of Steel will give you a headache. All of the Battle of the Five Armies from the third Hobbit movie will make you shrug. These and other lengthy battle scenes fall short for one reason or another. Return of the Jedi manages to avoid all these problems thanks to the way it tracks each character and engages in the problems they face, rather than focusing solely on the spectacle of battle.

End of an Empire

You maniac! You blew it up!

When the fighting stops, the film gives a very brief denouement that amounts to nothing more than Vader's cremation and the heroes partying it up with the Ewoks (and in the Special Edition cuts, we see celebrations break out across the galaxy, including Coruscant (which, in 1997, was the first time anybody had seen the awesome city-planet on-screen)). Amidst all the goofy dancing and shenanigans, the movie ends on an earnest note with the Force ghosts and a final shot of all the heroes grouped together. For the intents of the three original movies, this is all that's needed--a simple focus on characters enjoying the moment of their victory.

With other movies contributing to the Star Wars universe, there are larger questions that the film doesn't address (and it really can't, given that for the longest time this was the end of the saga, period). Was "balance of the Force" actually achieved? I'm still not entirely certain--I would have thought this happens with both the Jedi Order and the Sith defeated, leaving Luke as the last Jedi standing (and I think think this is Lucas' intention or canon--that "balance" means all good and no bad). But I have seen arguments from other fans pointing out that balance should be an even number of good and evil, or none of either, or something. Funnily enough, that's a concept Snoke alludes to in The Last Jedi. But the fact that we have a Sequel Trilogy also indicates that nothing is actually over with this series--the Empire may have fallen, but new evil takes root and a new round of heroes has to rise to the challenge. In that sense, if balance was achieved in Return of the Jedi, it's a short-lived victory. Vader's sacrifice might not even mean much when Palpatine returns in the Rise of Skywalker (although that's not a hard twist to follow given that Palpatine may have stolen the secrets of life and death from Darth Plagueis). The Force is thrown out of whack again, despite everyone's best efforts.

The political ramifications of the Emperor's (temporary?) demise is not covered by any movie. Somewhere between Return of the Jedi and The Force Awakens, there is a New Republic established. It wouldn't have happened overnight--the whole galaxy would have surely been in turmoil given the sheer power vacuum the Emperor would have left behind. Anarchy--literally, the transitional chaos between transitioning forms of government--would have consumed many worlds (including Coruscant) and probably led to civil unrest, warring factions, and a divided universe. All of that is glossed over. Probably because it's not as nice of an ending as watching Ewoks use Imperial helmets as drums. It's also something that goes beyond the story's immediate scope, which is more interested in showing the end of Luke's and Anakin's journeys amidst a Rebel victory. What will happen the next day? It's nobody's concern in this movie, but I think a line or two could have addressed the issue adequately.

There are other things I admire in Return of the Jedi. Some additional praise I have are as follows:

• Luke Skywalker in black. Hell yeah.
• You know, despite all the gripes about Ewoks, I still like certain things about their scenes. I like how they regard C-3PO as a god--there are sci-fi writers who've written entire books about how aliens, robots, or technology can be easily misconstrued as magic, and the film works that angle in pretty smoothly, even if it's not a theme that's explored to its fullest potential. I like the peril the heroes are in when the Ewoks capture and threaten to cook them. I like Leia's first encounter with Wicket (the sequence with the sniper is actually fairly suspenseful). I even like some of the nonsense words the Ewoks used (there is one instance in which one of them says something that sounds like "he is nice," and it can't be unheard. For some reason, when I was a kid I adopted "yub yub" as some kind of nonsense I said all the time, and it stuck with me and a couple of my friends).
• Just as The Empire Strikes Back did, the film introduces awesome new things--ships, vehicles, weapons, aliens, and entire worlds--that help expand the universe. Some old things are brought back, including more AT-STs, and so many stormtroopers. What we also get are speeder bikes, sail barges, flying skiffs, Mon Calamari cruisers, a myriad of new fighters (including TIE Interceptors, A-Wings, and my personal favorite, the B-Wings). We see scout troopers and red guards for the first time. Not to mention the insane number of new aliens we see bumming around Jabba's palace.
• We also see much more of the Emperor Palpatine. This is the first time we see him in the flesh, and when he gets out of his chair, we see Force lightning being used for the first time. 
• I always liked Admiral Ackbar. I don't even know why. Mon Mothma deserves a shoutout too, and her being the leader of the Rebellion I wish she was in more of the movies (thankfully she is seen more in Rogue One).
• On occasion, there are scenes or individual shots that elicit thoughts and emotions with mere images and no words. Even though there are a lot of punchy images to behold throughout the trilogy, Return of the Jedi manages to grab my heartstrings the most with these specific scenes:
• Much of the throne room scenes look decent, but it really hits home when Palpatine finally tempts Luke into a fight, and we see the Emperor laughing through the two lightsaber beams. What really gives me chills is the last bit of the fight, when Vader elicits Luke's rage he furiously backs Vader into the walkway--the combination of camera movement, choreography, and music elevated the scene to cathartic levels.
• Vader's cremation scene is appropriately somber and feels like the right way to tie up the father/son conflict. Between the flames and the medium shots of Luke's expression, I can genuinely feel for it.
• Visually, the film overall looks unique. The last couple of Star Wars films were deeply steeped in grunge, desolate, and industrial settings, which often looked oppressive and scummy. We still see much of that with Jabba's palace, but afterwards the film shows a lot more blue and green, and it's a pallet I find appealing and wish was in more space movies. Something about the forest scenes, especially when composited with the ships and walkers, look pretty cool to my eyes.
• John Williams' score is on-point, as usual. What stands out to me in Return of the Jedi is the dramatic cue used when the Rebels first approach the Death Star (on the soundtrack it's labelled as "Into the Trap")--I rather wish that theme was used more and for longer, but for the one scene it's pretty chilling.
• The dance number in Jabba's palace always called for something sleazy to match the setting. The song used in the original theatrical release--a bizarre alien number called "Lapti Nek"--fit the bill perfectly. It doesn't have any of the swing of "Jedi Rocks," but that's fine--"Lapti Nek" still had beat, but with some combination of blues, disco, and 80s style synths. Sy Snootles' vocals were lower-pitched and a bit grody perhaps, but it seemed fitting.

There are a few things to dislike about Return of the Jedi. Those things are:

• Tonally, the film seems to flip-flop between the darkness and grunge we see in the other movies, and an elevated level of light-heartedness. Ewoks betray the lighter tone the most given their cute nature and the funnier antics they share with the heroes. There's no denying that most of it is aimed as a younger audience. I have recently heard somewhere that the original script called for Wookies to be used instead of Ewoks, and that the movie's battle was supposed to be on Kashyyk instead of Endor. How awesome would it have been to see an army of Wookies winning the final ground battle against the Empire (especially since the Imperials enslaved the Wookies--the battle could have entailed their liberation). The decision to make them all Ewoks was a business decision that would have sold more toys to more families, and it shows in the final product. What could have been epic is made a bit tame. When you're a kid in the 80s, I just rolled with it and accepted that Ewoks could defeat an Empire, sure. Recently, fans have expressed their dislike of the little critters more, citing it as an unlikely victory (I think it still works because of Chewie's involvement, as mentioned above). I think the real issue is that we can see the business decision for what it is.
• As much as I enjoy watching the ground battle, it did occur to me recently that I have no idea how the Ewoks were able to do the things they could. They have catapults that seem to appear out of nowhere. They somehow arrange for a pair of logs to swing from trees and smash one of the walkers. They somehow arrange for a whole bunch of logs to roll down a slope and topple another walker. Logistically, all of these things would have required a lot of manpower, heavy lifting, and coordination that would not have been possible on the fly, especially for critters of this size.
• The film, as it was with Empire Strikes Back, starts off strangely weak. Both movies open with, simply, ships in space. They move. They launch shuttles, which dock and unload people. The opening lines of Return of the Jedi serve only to inform us that the Emperor will he hanging around the Death Star II. I mean, sure, the ships look cool and all, but what ever happened to the in media res method that A New Hope (and Revenge of the Sith) used? I much prefer it when these movies open with a bang. I would have even accepted this one opening with the two droids approaching Jabba's palace, which is where the story really seems to start anyway. You could skip the first few minutes of the movie and miss nothing.
• The three original films were handled by three different directors, and you can see the differences in their styles when you look at how scenes are paced, how the actors are blocked, and what kinds of camera angles they use. Ivan Kershner probably found the best balance of cinematic technique for The Empire Strikes Back, whereas Richard Marquand offers little new to the table. Return of the Jedi looks good and all, but its best scenes are the more dramatic ones (like the throne room scenes). The film bears a more workman-quality look, with little in the cinematography and composition that I find particularly moving. But from Lucas' comments, it seems as though Marquand was picked for how well he worked with actors and his previous work on suspense films. I think those qualities come through fine when evaluating performances. But the other odd thing I noticed about Return of the Jedi is how it slows to a crawl between the major story scenes, resulting in large chunks where characters share a sentimental chat (this seems to happen in any scene between Luke and Yoda, Luke and Obi-Wan's ghost, Luke and Leia, Leia and Han, and Luke and Vader). It's not such huge drag, but it feels tonally soft when these scenes happen, and I suspect is might stem from Marquand's style.
• This is the second time the Death Star is used as the core problem of a Star Wars movie (and sadly it won't be the last). I suppose the Empire could just build another one, sure, and it does present huge stakes, but it retreads old territory. It would have been more exciting to see something else in its place. 
• Speeder bikes in a forest are utterly impractical. There's no way a scout trooper could navigate through the dense trees at such high speeds without regular crashes. Walkers make more sense here (and there are some, yes). The speeder bikes should have been introduced in the last couple of movies, where the environments were much more open.
• Boba Fett goes out like a chump.

And that's it. Few major nitpicks, but for the most part I've always loved the movie. Its entire runtime is a climax to a film arc that pushes its characters to the tops of their peaks. This is the only film where I find Luke to be pretty awesome, because he does a lot of awesome things instead of whining. It's also a joy to watch Han come out of the carbonite, even if Harrison Ford got sick of playing the character. Watching cuddly Ewoks in action is a small price to pay for some of the best space battles in the series, and a heart-wrenching finale that pits Luke against his own father, and even himself. It helps that the story is woven with multiple strands that intersect and keeps the long-winded finale interesting and compelling.

It is done.

For a time, I would have pegged this as my favorite of the original trilogy. Right now, I'd probably place it second behind A New Hope. Both exude a kind of adventurous spirit that I find wonderful and exciting. Even though new threats would pop up in the galaxy, the film ties up all the story threads it has to, and it does so with heart. I still think this is a great ending for a great trilogy.