WHAT THE STAR WARS PREQUELS MEAN TO AN ENTIRE GENERATION

WHAT THE STAR WARS PREQUELS MEAN TO AN ENTIRE GENERATION

Often, wrongly, derided as ‘the bad movies’, the Star Wars Prequels have made something of a reputation for themselves. Whether it’s for wooden acting, apparent “bad” CGI (it was 2002 people), too many lightsaber duels (it’s Star Wars?), the technology and costume design looking “too expensive”, and “out of place” compared to the Original Trilogy (Lucas is story telling through visuals, we’ll get to that later) or, my favourite, Anakin “not being the way people thought he would be”… which, well… it’s not your story. Sorry about that.

Of course, growing up in the 2000’s I had no idea that this criticism even existed, because, you know, I was a kid, enjoying the movies, comics, video games and toys, just like those same critics were in the 70’s and 80’s. The whole reason why I became interested in writing, sci-fi, fantasy, pursuing a career in Hollywood, and even in some respects, fashion (thank you, Padmé Amidala) was largely influenced by the fantastical cinematic universe plucked out of Lucas’ imagination. The prequels have had such an immense impact on me, that to this day I’m still realising how much they’ve influenced my taste in film, literature, aesthetics and even my approach to writing. Yes, the prequels can be criticised for their… funky dialogue and the odd writing gripe, but take this as someone who grew up with these movies, there was nothing – literally nothing – that came close to capturing the wonderment that the prequels incited in my 8 year old brain.

For 00s kids, the prequels introduced us to a world of – sorry – galaxy of seedy underworld espionage, spiritual warrior monks with awe-inspiring temples, ruthless, shadowy bounty hunters, and biomes that ranged from urban landscapes that would the collective skylines of New York, Shanghai and Dubai weep to off-the-radar water-worlds whose sole purpose is to produce freakin’ clone armies. You can’t suddenly be upset because an idea you came up with at 12 years old in the early 80s that had no impact on Lucas’ own writing didn’t come to fruition decades later. It’s the same reason why I don’t subscribe to the opinion that Sequel Trilogy has somehow “ruined” or “tarnished” the stories of the previous trilogies. Do I think, at least from an aesthetic and world-building standpoint, that the Sequel’s could’ve benefitted from more experimentation? Yes.  Whatever slight, technical issues I may have with the Sequel’s, however, doesn’t outweigh my enjoyment of those movies, and I certainly wouldn’t speak over the generation who were raised with these films. And before you mention how Luke was treated in the Sequels, I have some bad news for you…

Released between 1999 – 2005 the Prequel Trilogy was an integral part of many growing up in the 2000s © Lucasfilm

The genius of the Prequels truly lies in their ability to story-tell through its aestheticism. The Republic was a time of grandeur and vast wealth, decadence and corrupt politics, in which the rich get richer, and the poor poorer. You only have to take one look at Padmé Amidala’s wardrobe to see an exact reflection of this. Tailored to perfection, with silhouettes that acutely reflect Padmé’s power and status, from leather corsets to suede gowns, her wardrobe assimilated everything from passionate reds to regal purples to dazzling oranges – all dripping in gold, silver and diamonds. There isn’t one second in the prequels where Padmé isn’t absolutely commanding attention toward her wealth and status. 

However, Padmé is absolutely a product of the society she was raised in. “Elected” Queen (okay I can admit George doesn’t understand how monarchy’s work) of the wealthy planet of Naboo and raised among the grandeur and wealth of the planet’s capital, Theed, Padmé has little knowledge of what life is like beyond the scope of the Republic, particularly when it comes to a certain Skywalker born into slavery on Tatooine. She even seems largely unaware of Gungan culture and life, despite the Gungans being inhabitants of her home planet. Yet, Padmé is willing to learn and uses her tenure in the Senate to fight for equality and peace in the Galaxy and eventually becomes a founding member of the organisation that would later become the Rebel Alliance we know and love in the Original Trilogy.

As Padmé’s career evolves and her views of the Galaxy change from hopeful and optimistic to bleak and almost separatist, going as far as to distance herself from long time allies, Palpatine, and even her husband, Anakin, her costuming slowly evolves from vibrant colours in The Phantom Menace to muted greens, creams and greys in Revenge of the Sith. The Prequels “looking too different” is exactly the point, they’re the midpoint between relative, longtime peace in the galaxy and the decades long reign of a tyrannical, genocidal regime. They’re not a product of Lucas making everything “shiny and new” in order to disrupt the aesthetic continuity of the Original Trilogy, they’re conveying just how much the Empire managed to corrupt the Galaxy in just a few years, and raises the stakes for what the Rebellion is fighting for to an even greater level.

Just look at Leia’s wardrobe in the Original Trilogy, a woman who, like her mother, Padmé, grew up in the lap of luxury on her adoptive Alderaan, and was one of the leading members of the Rebel Alliance – yet her taste is far more minimalistic and muted, her most iconic look being the white dress and “space buns”, compared to Padmé’s ornate crimson, gold and black gown. Leia lives in a time of uniformity and conformity, where individuality and self-expression is actively stifled by the Empire, and as the leader of the biggest opposition to the Empire, Leia most likely can’t work with the designers and stylists her Mother had free access to, likely because they feared persecution from the Empire if they were found to be working with the “enemy”. Carrie Fisher even jokingly remarked that “Queen Armadillo” changed her outfits “practically every time she walked through a door”. The pomp and exuberance of the Prequels, despite what the naysayers may shout from the rooftops, is actually one of its selling points.

But, even if we step away from the movies themselves, the amount of content produced during the Prequel era left us spoiled:

  • The critically acclaimed, The Clone Wars, tv series
  • The OG Battlefront games for PS2 & Xbox 360
  • The iconic Dark Horse comic series, which were (initially) responsible for introducing fan favourites, Aayla Secura and Quinlan Vos, into the Star Wars canon
  • The original Clone Wars series 
  • Star Wars Racer Revenge video game
  • Star Wars Bounty Hunter for PS2
  • The Phantom Menace and Revenge of the Sith games
  • The Force Unleashed video games
  • The Bad Batch tv series 
  • The endless amount of action figures, lego, dolls, clothing, bedding, furniture and uh… these things

Oh, and we can’t forget the flurry of memes the films have produced.

And although not exactly linked to the Prequel trilogy, The Knights of the Old Republic and Jedi Knight: Jedi Outcast games are intrinsically linked to that era for me and many others. If you grew up between 1999-2008, the Prequels and their spin off media were inescapable. Even today, with The Clone Wars reboot in 2020, alongside The Bad Batch series on Disney+ (a spin off of The Clone Wars) which launched in 2021, the Prequels, despite being over two decades old, still have a wealth of content to produce and give to fans.

This isn’t to say the Prequels are a perfect product without faults. There are absolutely elements of the Prequel Trilogy that deserve criticism. The harmful, racist caricatures reflected in the Nemoidians, Watto, and Jar Jar Binks should rightfully be called out, especially in an age when anti-Asian, anti-Semitic and anti-Black hate crimes are increasingly perpetuated. Likewise, one of the only prominent non-white characters in the Prequels, Mace Windu, barely gets any screen time compared to his white co-stars, and his character in unceremoniously cast aside midway through Revenge of the Sith. Unfortunately this issue isn’t solely isolated within the Prequel Trilogy, just look at Lando Calrissian being reduced to nothing more than a ‘space pimp’ by fans, or the lack of support John Boyega and Kelly Marie-Tran were given following racist abuse, with Lucasfilm reacting by giving their characters increasingly reduced screen time throughout the Sequel Trilogy.

Much of this can be attributed to the fact that Star Wars largely ignores the construct of “race” and applies a utopian gloss over it, while still conveniently employing largely white casts. The fact that racist stereotypes are either applied to aliens, or placed upon black characters by the fans, is more of a reflection of the fact that the prominent voices, writing, producing and promoting the movies are usually white, with very few voices at the table being given the chance to say “maybe you should change this”. Can this hinder your enjoyment of the films?Absolutely, and there is no excusing that Lucasfilm has a long history of brushing these criticisms under the rug. Especially since Star Wars has such a diverse fandom that it’s impossible to narrow down a Star Wars fan to one particular definition, and therefore Lucasfilm must acknowledge that these fans exist, and want to be seen in their entirety.

Yet, much of the disapproval thrown at the Prequels by critics is usually targeted toward dialogue or the general aesthetic of the movies, and in extreme cases, impertinent abuse directed at the actors, including young children. The overarching narrative of the movies, the character development, costume design and the impact the Prequels had on how green screen was employed in cinema are overlooked. More importantly, how minorities are portrayed, not only in the Prequels, but the saga as a whole, is seen as a footnote. Having a black actor isn’t enough, having positive portrayals of minorities is important, even if the films revolve entirely around fantasy.

Star Wars has a very devoted and extremely diverse fanbase. In mainstream criticism it’s become popular to either hail a Star Wars movie as the best film since The Godfather, or to proclaim it as the death of cinema. Yet, among Star Wars fans (and actual Star Wars fans, not just people who like Episode 4 and 5) this isn’t the case. You can find just as many fans who think The Empire Strikes Back is the best movie as you can those who think the more divisive films such as The Phantom Menace or The Last Jedi are the pinnacle of the saga. The point is, Star Wars, like much of the popular media we consume, is flawed. Yet, it speaks to such a large array of people that it is cynical and frankly, childish, to ascertain that certain Star Wars films are “bad” because they don’t fit into your narrow view of what Star Wars should be. Yes, be critical of media and, in particular, Hollywood’s pervasive issue with inclusivity, but it’s okay to recognise the Prequel movies for what they are – a fun, bombastic, melodramatic tale of good vs evil. For better or for worse, the Prequels have brought multiple generations of Star Wars fans together – discussing theories, minor characters, the video games – you name it. 

It’s okay to like the Prequels, and it’s okay to not like the Prequels, but if there’s one thing that Star Wars teaches us, it’s to speak our minds and fight for what we believe in. Padmé doesn’t simply give up because Palpatine is consolidating too much power for himself, she gathers her allies and fights for a return to democracy. She doesn’t do this out of hatred for Palpatine, but out of a love for the Republic. She wants the Republic to grow, to be fairer and more democratic. By the time of Revenge of the Sith she isn’t blind to the issues within the Republic anymore, but that doesn’t mean she thinks they can’t be improved. 

Adam

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