The Force should go back to sleep permanently

Why though? One of the big attractions to Star Wars and why it is still loved 40 years after it was made is that the story is a timeless one. If it was good enough for Gilgamesh and is still keeping us entertained several thousand years later, I'd say it is as good as any reason for the success of Star Wars. The implementation of the plot is fairly underwhelming space opera filler -and holds up badly even to space opera filler published 20 years before Star Wars (Poul Anderson's Dominic Flandry). The acting is nothing to write home about. The special effects - hardly the first thing on someone's mind when watching it- still hold up pretty well even if the live-action integration has a lot of issues with the opticals and compositing. What else is there to explain the enduring attraction of the film? Costume Design?

Can you appreciate something and yet put it in proper perspective as merely the most entertaining and well known movie iteration of a timeless story?
 
I have no problems with John Boyega. He was excellent in Attack the Block and showed he could play a hero quite well.

My biggest problem with The Force Awakens beyond the uninspired plot and an underwhelming space battle* (seriously, only X-Wings? Lucas was able to do better than that in a converted garage with motion control) is the entire First Order. Ignoring the fact they are jumped up neo-nazis with none of the cold, disinterested, ruthlessness of Grand Moff Tarkin their entire existence seems to rest on the need for there to be an evil Sith group. Their leadership seems to consist of an emo Anakin clone and some psychotic, unhinged blond tyrant. Fearsome? Not really.

Somehow, they were able to build a planet-sized DOOM MACHINE under the Republic's nose** and manage to destroy the entire Republic fleet in one blast. During WWII Polish and Norwegian ships were able to fight for the governments in exile, but no Republic ships were able to escape and seek revenge on the DOOM MACHINE? Admiral Ackbar wasn't around to unleash his tactical genius?

*I did love the X-Wings to the rescue on the planet, coming in low over the lake. That was a brilliant scene.
**I don't care how politically dysfunctional the Republic was. When you learn somebody is building a planet sized DOOM MACHINE that consumes suns, you nuke it from orbit, just to be sure.

Just a few minor corrections:

The First Order is not a Sith organization.

Kylo Ren isn't emo (unless you're meaning it in the strictest sense of "emotional", in which case... sure...?).

Hux isn't really unhinged. Fanatical, as all officers are in the regime.

The Republic doesn't recognize the First Order as anything more than a fringe group in the Outer Rim. The whole purpose of the Resistance is that many in the Republic did not agree with that assertion and started a paramilitary group to resist the FO's aggression and unhampered expansion.

The Republic's fleet wasn't entirely destroyed, but Hosnian Prime and the center of government was.

Admiral Ackbar is with the Resistance and he's elderly. He was in a consultancy role, nothing more.

Bringing a fleet to Starkiller Base would have been pointless, something they brushed up upon in the tactical meeting where the infiltration was agreed on. Anything larger than an X-Wing would have simply been destroyed for no reason. The Resistance has neither the desperation of the rebellion nor the assets necessary for throwing away ships and manpower like that. What the Resistance lacks in fervor and desperation they make up for in general improvement in technology and skills.
 
Why though? One of the big attractions to Star Wars and why it is still loved 40 years after it was made is that the story is a timeless one. If it was good enough for Gilgamesh and is still keeping us entertained several thousand years later, I'd say it is as good as any reason for the success of Star Wars. The implementation of the plot is fairly underwhelming space opera filler -and holds up badly even to space opera filler published 20 years before Star Wars (Poul Anderson's Dominic Flandry). The acting is nothing to write home about. The special effects - hardly the first thing on someone's mind when watching it- still hold up pretty well even if the live-action integration has a lot of issues with the opticals and compositing. What else is there to explain the enduring attraction of the film? Costume Design?

The mysticism of the Force? The moon-sized space station? The original sword concept? The fact that it was 'high' sci-fi (not being set in our universe)?

Let's say that all of those are taken away, and it becomes a dry Star Trek-y story about rescuing a princess from a Star Destroyer, and then blowing it up. Would you remember that forty years later?
 
The First Order is led by a Sith Lord and is obviously aligned with the Dark Side. It's a Sith organization as much as the Empire was. Kylo Ren is practically the definition of emo. Hux seemed pretty unhinged to me.

If the Republic regards the First Order as nothing more than a fringe group in the Outer Rim, they must either be remarkably stupid (given that the 'fringe group in the Outer Rim' was able to construct a star-system-destroying superweapon more powerful than the Death Star) or the fringe group in the Outer Rim was able to construct a star-system-destroying superweapon more powerful than the Death Star.
Either option is silly. The 'politics' of TFA are just plain stupid, there's no getting around it. At least the prequels made vague sense.
 
The First Order is led by a Sith Lord and is obviously aligned with the Dark Side. It's a Sith organization as much as the Empire was. Kylo Ren is practically the definition of emo. Hux seemed pretty unhinged to me.

If the Republic regards the First Order as nothing more than a fringe group in the Outer Rim, they must either be remarkably stupid (given that the 'fringe group in the Outer Rim' was able to construct a star-system-destroying superweapon more powerful than the Death Star) or the fringe group in the Outer Rim was able to construct a star-system-destroying superweapon more powerful than the Death Star.
Either option is silly. The 'politics' of TFA are just plain stupid, there's no getting around it. At least the prequels made vague sense.

Snoke is not a Sith Lord.

The Empire was explicitly a Sith organization. It was led by a Sith, its heir was a Sith, and the Emperor's private council was made up of Sith acolytes. The First Order has literally none of this.

Kylo Ren was emotional, for good reason, so that's not really a drag on anybody except you for wanting a villain to be an emotionless sociopath.

Why is Hux unhinged?

Just because you don't understand something doesn't make it stupid. :) Just means you're ignorant. Luckily, ignorance can be solved if you're willing. The New Republic was embroiled in internal strife between the Centrists and Populists within the Inner Rim. The Outer Rim was essentially left alone.
 
Having looked up Snoke on Wookiepedia, the word 'Sith' doesn't occur once in his article! So fine, Snoke isn't a Sith Lord...just a dark side Force user. The First Order is again clearly aligned with the dark side.

Who said anything about Kylo Ren being emo being a 'drag' on anything? I do admit I prefer my villains to have more of the Magnificent Bastard in them. One reason I hated the Harry Potter films was that Voldemort was portrayed as the opposite of cool and collected. In the books he never loses his cool until the feces really hits the fan - when Harry escapes at the end, usually, or in the seventh book when he realized what Harry was actually doing.

Hux being unhinged is largely a matter of subjective perception so I won't try to justify it.

As to the politics- there's nothing to understand. The politics of TFA are purely a plot vehicle; I'm not knocking that- it works and I like plenty of series where the worldbuilding is done the same way, merely as a plot-driver and without much, if any, internal logic - but to deny it seems just as silly as the things the haters say.
 
Yes, the New Republic seems to have neglected the Outer Rim. But that still doesn't explain how the heck they could miss the construction of a planet-sized superweapon, which must need a huge supply chain to execute. I'm not talking about finding a random planet in a galaxy. I'm talking about the fact that hundreds of thousand and maybe millions of people must have been involved in its construction, with huge and long money trails, large shipments, intelligence leaks, etc.
 
they must either be remarkably stupid (given that the 'fringe group in the Outer Rim' was able to construct a star-system-destroying superweapon more powerful than the Death Star)

I keep seeing this point brought up as a weakness in the story of TFA, but it's really not when you think about it. It is perfectly plausible that the First Order could build a superweapon in secret without the story requiring the Republic to be incredibly stupid or incompetent. For a real world example, just look at North Korea. Everyone assumed they were years, maybe decades away from having functional nuclear warheads and then all of a sudden BAM!, there's a nuclear test conducted in North Korea. And that's here on Earth. One planet. Now think about what you could hide from people if you had an entire galaxy at your disposal to hide all your nefarious projects. Even if the Republic had the most competent intelligence collection network out there, it would still be pretty easy for the First Order to hide the existence of the Starkiller base.

Also, everything I have read seems to indicate that the Republic is at least somewhat aware of the threat the New Order poses, but doesn't really want to believe it. It's like they know the New Order is a serious threat but they just want to convince themselves they aren't and hope they go away or the problem somehow resolves itself. From what I've read, this attitude mostly stems from the Republic not investing very heavily in it's military and the fact that there is very little political will in the Republic to fight a full-scale war while they are really still trying to rebuild from the Galactic Civil War.
 
ah , me missing to answer in a SW thread . Yes , another reason to hate to new format ; you know , for driving me away .

that the First Order can convert a planet into stuff , must be thousands of kilometers across , is the scenario writers wanting to emulate the present day . Everybody knows , has always known , what N.Korea has been doing . It's only those who want to "mind shape" Joe Public wasted so many years on how they could not do what Americans had been doing in 1955 , you know because they are people with funny eye shapes , under some Commie stuff . Despite being next door to Japan , South Korea and lastly but not leastly , China . So , the First Order is some bunch of neo-nazis but not a major Imperial Remnant ? With a billion or so metric tons Imperial gear never accounted for ? Translation into Turkish and stuff readily fixes anything like dat ...
 
Great counter argument. 0/10

Alrighty then, here's a more substantive reply:

There is a sickness running through the world, a sickness that attempts to twist every instance of narrative fiction through the siphon of errors that is the "Hero's Journey" story structure paradigm.

Made popular in the 90s through the work of Christopher Vogler, this understanding of story makes the claim that every great story can be traced back to the monomyth as uncovered by Joseph Campbell. From error-ridden snarky videos to lightweight analysis of plot elements, the Internet teems with those who think every story is the same and that this similarity can be attributed to man's need for mythic transformation.

There can be nothing more destructive to the world of storytelling than this compulsion for spiritual metamorphosis.

Stories are about solving problems. Sometimes, solving those problems require the centerpiece of a story, the Main Character, to undergo a major transformation in how they see the world. Sometimes they don't. There is nothing inherently better about a story where the Main Character transforms.

See Chinatown and/or Amadeus for more on this.

Besides the aforementioned spiritual implications, the Hero's Journey fails because it is so general. How could an understanding of story be considered accurate or helpful when it considers Luke Skywalker and Neo the same "Hero". In superficial general terms, yes, the two share similar aspects, but under closer examination it becomes clear that there are significant and important differences in the problems and issues facing Luke and Neo.

When it comes to constructing a story, the specifics of the Hero's Journey are open to interpretation. This is not a plus. This does not make the Hero's Journey more human. Instead, it simply adds confusion and noise to many an Author's intuition. For proof of this, one doesn't need much more than a simple observation of the mental gymnastics that abound when a classic story doesn't quite fit into the paradigm.

When the Protagonist doesn't change, the claim is made that there are actually two Hero's Journeys going on. What about stories where the Hero Crosses the Threshold before they've even met the Mentor? No problem, because order has no meaning in this paradigm. A writer can do whatever they want as long as they hit the required points.

For a paradigm to be accurate, there should be no need to warp it or bend it to fit stories that are obviously successful.

Take for instance how Campbell describes the Hero at the end of his journey:

The individual, through prolonged psychological disciplines, gives up completely all attachment to his personal limitations, idiosyncrasies, hopes and fears, no longer resists the self-annihilation that is prerequisite to rebirth in the realization of truth, and so becomes ripe, at last, for the great at-one-ment. His personal ambitions being totally dissolved, he no longer tries to live but willingly relaxes to whatever may come to pass in him; he becomes, that is to say, an anonymity.
The Hero loses himself and is reborn. This is exactly what happens to Clarice Starling in The Silence of the Lambs and Jake Gittes in Chinatown. Wait. No it isn't.

This complete transformation of self is a key component of the Hero's Journey. To leave it out, as is done in this interpretation of Star Trek as Hero's Journey, is to ignore the true meaning behind the Hero's becoming a Master of Two Worlds. Fans of the Hero's Journey paradigm cherry pick which precepts of the monomyth fit well with thier argument. They use what they need and leave out what doesn't work.

Furthering this cafeteria-style approach to story structure (in addition to employing the ridiculous notion of the MacGuffin), the article defends its interpretation by adding that Spock underwent a Hero's Journey as well. This is the same mistake Stuart Voytilla made in his book Myth and the Movies and his analysis of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. The idea that there are two instances of a Hero's Journey in one story is a clear indicator that there is a misunderstanding over the relationship located at the heart of every complete story.

In every complete story there is a Main Character and an Impact Character. The Main Character comes to a story with some emotional baggage. The Impact Character enters and by virtue of their own presence, brings the Main Character's baggage to the surface. They have an "impact" on them. One way or another, the two argue over the proper way to solve the problems in the story until at the end the Main Character has to come to a decision: Either keep doing things the way she always has, or change and adopt the Impact Character's way of seeing things.

This exists in every great story because it is the way an Author proves their argument. Once the Main Character makes that choice the story will either end in success or failure. This is the Author saying, See, make this change and great things will happen or See, make this change and tragedy will befall you. Stories are about solving problems, not mythical journeys of spiritual transcendence.

In Disney's Beauty and the Beast Belle is the Main Character and the Beast is the Impact Character. Both don't fit in with the rest of society, but one--Belle--has found an appropriate way of dealing with it. In the end, she continues to do things the way she always has. The Beast, however, is the one who has the major transformational change. This is NOT the physical transformation but rather, the transformation of character that he undergoes. He changes and the spell is broken. The Author's proof that Belle made the right choice is apparent in the smile on her face as they dance into the clouds.

No need for two heroic journeys. No need for mental warping.

Same thing happens in Star Trek (though instead of purple clouds we get shiny lens flares!). Kirk is the Main Character and Spock is the Impact Character. Both come to the story with different approaches towards dealing with the Nero problem, two different approaches that clash when they come into contact with each other. Kirk is all about the relentless pursuit of the goal while Spock prefers to take a more reserved "logical" approach. Throughout the story, they argue over the proper approach until finally Spock relinquishes control and finds a way to allow a little freedom into his life, both in the world around him, and more importantly, inside of him emotionally.

Spock has undergone the major transformation of character. Kirk is still driven by that need to pursue, to win no matter what it takes. He has not lost a portion of himself on his way towards becoming a Master of Two Worlds.

In this way, screenwriter John Rogers had it right:

He starts as an arrogant sonovabitch, and becomes a slightly more motivated arrogant sonovabitch. He does not learn to sacrifice, he does not learn to work well with others--he takes over the goddam ship. He's right all the time, he never doubts he's right, and the only obstacle he occasionally faces is when other people aren't sharp enough to see how frikkin' awesome--and right--he is as quickly as they should.
Beautifully written and 100% accurate. Rogers uses the term revelatory arc to describe Kirk's lack of change, but what would be even more precise would be to refer to him as the Steadfast Main Character. Every Main Character has their resolve brought into question. Some change, others remain steadfast. It really is that simple. A simple, but powerful tool available to any writer who wants to create something with meaning.

Rogers' article is a celebration of Star Trek's apparent breaking of the rules. However, the film really doesn't break the rules as much it points out clearly that the present understanding of the rules is simply wrong. It all comes down to a misunderstanding over What Character Arc Really Means. It is true that the two principal characters must grow, but they don't both have a heroic transformational change of character.

The love affair with the Hero's Journey had its time. Turning every character into a Threshold Guardian or a Mentor or a Shapeshifter does nothing to really help the evolution of storytelling as much as it does to satisfy the hubris of those who hold such axioms dear. To impose such things on a writer should be deemed tyrannical and completely counter-productive to the creative instincts of potential artists everywhere. In the 21st century, there needs to be a push towards an even greater understanding of story theory and the structures that support it.

Dramatica is an objective model designed to help an author give meaning to their work--any meaning! If the writer wants a transformational journey of epic proportions they are more than welcome to pursue it. If instead, they want to show how a woman bent on revitalizing her childhood acting career can somehow find happiness by maintaining her own insanity (as in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?), then they can do that as well. The message is left entirely up to the Author's muse.

Dramatica does not think every Main Character needs to change. Dramatica does not think every story starts with a Call to Adventure, or that there is a journey into the Belly of The Whale, or that the Hero must lose himself as he becomes a Master of Two Worlds. There is absolutely no spiritual implication.

Contrary to what many Hero's Journey enthusiasts believe, the order of events has meaning. A scream followed by a slap takes on an entirely different meaning than a slap followed by a scream.

Voytilla's look into the application of the monomyth towards film analysis jumbles the order a hero takes along their journey (as described by Campbell) within many of the film examples. It is so confusing as to become useless towards an Author looking to bring greater meaning to their work. How can a system be said to meaningful if the order of the processes within is inconsequential?

In sharp contrast, Dramatica's concept of the four signposts within each throughline carry the meaning of the story's ultimate outcome. A Tragedy will order the areas covered in each act in a completely different way than say, a Triumph would. Each story is going for a different emotional result, so the order in which things happen is vastly important. The theory is designed to prevent an Author from taking an audience down the wrong emotional path.

If one accepts the idea that stories are about solving problems and that the efforts to resolve those problems ends up granting an audience some greater understanding (i.e. they mean something), then the Dramatica theory will help illuminate the processes necessary to make that story successful. If, on the other hand, one believes that stories are an examination of one man's transcendental rebirth, then the Hero's Journey would be more applicable.

Unfortunately, not every story takes the latter approach.

Not every story is a Hero's Journey, but every story does fit within the concepts of structure outlined in the Dramatica theory of story...that is, if it has something meaningful to say.
 
I certainly agree that viewing everything as a hero’s journey has its limits. Like any model, the monomyth fails to describe in full the breadth of its sources. There’s a lot to be said about moving beyond it and opening the discussion to broader theories.


However, that doesn’t mean the monomyth is without worth, particularly as applied to Star Wars. Lucas used The Hero with a Thousand Faces as a template for Star Wars. As such, the model is particularly apt for use in discussing the film. Campbell accurately described a model of storytelling that has stretched itself across thousands of years and a multitude of cultures. The monomyth can be found in all sorts of classic works. It stays with us. I don’t have any firm opinion on why that is, but I could speculate. Maybe the monomyth is a simple way to tell stories. Maybe stories from the monomyth stay with us longer because they reflect our own personal struggles.


Of course there are stories told, and to be told, outside of the monomyth model. Great stories. But that fact doesn’t mean the model itself is invalid.
 
Strange, you appear to have posted a link to an article about Star Wars, not this "A New Hope" thing of which you speak.

I can't tell if this is serious or not...Poe's Law and all...
 
I can't tell if this is serious or not...Poe's Law and all...

Depends what you mean by serious I suppose. It was serious sarcasm.

But (even more) seriously, the article does actually call it Star Wars throughout, not A New Hope. And (somewhat less) seriously, I believe that anyone who calls it the latter should be taken out and shot.
 
A New Hope is unambiguous. Seems moronic to me to insist on calling it something ambiguous for esoteric reasons.
 
Well you didn't have a problem when the article you linked to did it.

Also, seems a bit of a stretch to describe using the title that everyone knew it by for donkeys years, rather than the retconned subtitle that no-one ever used, as "esoteric".
 
Notice how I didn't say I had a problem with calling it Star Wars, I had a problem with insisting that other people call it Star Wars. In the article there is no ambiguity because it is clear from the contrext that Star Wars isn't referring to thewhole franchise.
 
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