I Come To Bury Star Wars, Not To Praise It..

Dear Star Wars,

Yes. I am aware that I am speaking to you in a voice that denotes your existence not unlike that of a sentient being with its own soul and sense of free will. And it isn't without merit. There are a great many things I must thank you for as someone who has grown up with your presence ever near, even when paths led you astray, and allowed relations to fray with many the galaxy over. There are a great many things you taught me over the course of my life, and it is within the walls of this personal site that I am at last able to happily willing to place a date of expiration next to your name. Oh, please do not feel sorrow for such a choice. What I am saying? Your existence and spirit does more than well enough without me, especially now that you have an entire new generation of admirers and friends to keep you company deep into history.

And please do not think that this is completely borne out of some angst-ridden schism between you and I. Far from it. While we've certainly had our ups and downs over the years, your very role in the adventures of my days goes so much deeper than an attraction to all effects special, or the promise of escape from an existence surrounded by oceans of sand in every direction. You sheltered, and inspired me when those who would hope to be a beacon flickered. As a child of divorce, your earliest tales informed and comforted me with notions of both toil and redemption that few other grand stories ever could. You helped me understand that even the most forthright of heroes had their dark days, and that we are often placed firmly between angels and demons. You helped me understand myths beyond those bound by a cross, and illustrated the conflict that makes for the bulk of my life. And that good was a responsibility, and not merely a face to wear for benefit. That light and dark were but facets of the whole. It was through you that I became interested in stories, storytelling, human psychology, philosophy, metaphor, and gained a yearning for writing and teaching.

And as we at last witness the first official new installment of your saga, a part of me feels that it is more than time to step away, and to seek tales anew while markets readjust, rendering you into something wholly different from what you once were. Again, this is no slight onto you. Far from it. But part of me reside deeply within the fleshy matter of human connection. Elements that drew me most to your fire. As we watched technology and visual mastery evolve, as we have also seen storytelling evolve into new forms, for both better and worse. After seven features, several television films, animated series, novels, merchandise, and a holiday special, I cannot help but feel that this is all I ever truly needed from you. The notion of a friend for all time, while a genuinely sweet and noble ideal, is far from a realistic one. Ships must inevitably disembark, and tides must again tug and sway. Otherwise, there is always the possibility of a relationship finding fissure. Fissures that often rear themselves after too much exposure.

There are also matters of why you remain here, and why it's so important that you tale see itself reinterpreted, and it isn't always for the most earnest or personal reasons. In fact, this is perhaps where I am most willing to depart. Any good thing in life can ultimately turn against the very ideas and feelings that made it so important to my personal evolution. Much like a child growing up and candy lover, at last faced with a genetic predisposition to diabetes. There is a certain point where our greatest joys can give way to harmful repercussions.

Looking at your history as a global crowd-pleaser, I can definitely see why many out there feel that is is you who could save the landscape from great change. But I also believe that change is paramount for life to evolve. So to see your soul taken wholesale in the name of saving a previous business model, a part of me cannot help but sigh in mild dismay. And while it is indeed true that a lot of Episode VII:The Force Awakens, carries with it an aura of what made you so special, it too harbors the decay and facade of a loved one, long dead and shambling about under well-meaning, but misguided control by powers out to rescue us from the current day. Again, while a lot of the heart flesh remains, there is barely enough to allow it to move emotive or intellectual powers that once seemed so easy to access. We've been here before, and a mere few augmentations here do very little to hide the little brother wearing grandmother's glasses, dancing about in strange voices, trying in vain to make us smile the same way again. I do care and thank you, but it seems that studios and a dying multiplex infrastructure needs you a lot more than my heart does.

It's also deeply important to me that people see the face of you, not so much the mask. I still see so many enamored with the idea of you, rather than your ideas. The brand, and not so much the personality within. While I do understand the appeal, I cannot help but feel that there was always a great deal more to you during those early days. It's true. There is no going back. But if your legends cannot offer new and challenging responses to your soul, then all we're doing is looping. When all we probably needed to do, is look back. (Provided your father was willing to allow us to do this unreservedly - I know this is something of a sticking point.

Apologies for bringing this up.

We need numerous gardens to explore, not merely several pickings from the same batch. Homogeneity, even from you, sounds rather unhealthy.


So while I do intend to be near you for one more film, I would love to very much make my intentions more than clear. There are parts of me that are truly warmed inside by your new cast of characters. They are charming, energetic, and come from an earnest place. Make no mistake, these are worthy heirs to your legacy. And even though I really do wish to travel alongside them a little more, there is a feeling that there is little else you could possibly share with me that I am not already familiar with or understand. You are the most fanciful of bedtime stories. You grant people light when so much seems so dark. Sometimes, you're willing to illuminate that these things aren't so alien to one another. But it's hard to imagine art and expression working themselves through with a necessary amount of freedom confined to a single myth instead as opposed to the broadness of genre. The powers in charge would like to think this is an answer, but I cannot agree to it. You mean a lot to me, even when parts of me have denied it in the past. It's true. You were a spark that led to a flame. But the wood has neared its end, and I need new elements offering with them fresh and healthy amounts of oxygen. I'm only looking out for my health you see. I only wish to do good by what you imbued within me.


Even if it means leaving you behind soon.

Trust that I'll always keep you close, even if I'm not there.   

Stop The Universe, I Want To Get Off (Age Of Ultron, Age Of Nope)

Months back, after thinking about how well Marvel Studios gambled to great success in 2014, it felt to me as if a great gamble had finally paid off. After decades of marginal adaptations, false starts, and years of self-conscious film production, it certainly felt as if the superhero film had finally come into its own. Every MCU film post Joss Whedon's The Avengers seemed to herald something of a salad period in which the comic book film could finally exist in all its pulpy, soap operatic glory. Gone were the notions of spandex-questioning team members, and overt grit-ification of once larger than life serial landscapes. Marvel had finally cracked the code to making films that could not only satisfy the most die-hard devotee, but also rake in droves of new action and adventure lovers the world over. It's a mix generations in the making, and as such Avengers: Age Of Ultron, feels like the final culmination of that dream.  


Which brings me to the reason for this quasi-review. As a lover of all things cinematic, as well as someone with a love for breadth of storytelling, observing the major studios and their wishes to each hone together their resources toward creating successful shared universes with which to better compete with Disney's caped juggernauts, has led me to come to a singular conclusion that may sever me from a generation that seems to be experiencing something of a cinematic renaissance - A wish to step off the shared universe concept, and to seek newer means of enjoying myths without feeling like a once powerful business' last refuge. As much as these filmmakers have been doing some impressive work, and what was once considered a shelter for young admirers of fantasy, is now considered monstrous commodity, there is something truly telling within Age Of Ultron that shares a solid, sobering message; that saturation and lack of variety are the death of vitality in all forms of communication. It's ultimately a blandening mechanism for not only business, but for art as well.


While the second chapter in what is Marvel's flagship series, Tony Stark's discovery of this deeply complex programming, leads him toward a path which places his fears at odds with his comrades. The Ultron Program, which on the surface promises a more secure world, not only from those who would threaten the Earth and its occupants, but from this increasing population of empowered beings who threaten to cause as much damage and suffering. Naturally, this doesn't fare well at all, leading to what is easily one of the most jaw-tearing grand action spectacles ever filmed. The cast travels from one end of the globe to the other as allegiances are shattered and formed, and comic book soap opera reaches the pinnacle of its form in under two-hours plus. And as impressive as it sounds, Age Of Ultron suffers largely from not only an event heavy storyline, an endless parade of characters, and a pace that stumbles rather than flows, the film grinds when the form should coast.It practically beats us into pure indifference.


Also a casualty of the form reaching this milestone; a threat to focus and memorability. Ever since Return Of The Jedi, filmmakers have been steadily piling on the multi-battle storytelling form to diminishing returns. Where once three separate battles could make the head spin, but miraculously maintain focus between character beats and dramatic pace, Ultron leaves so much underfocused, and little to actually absorb. Character moments shine, and rekindle interest, where action events are often pulling the brain apart, vying endlessly for attention. For all the technology we have to finally visualize the most astonishing visions of apocalypse, and derring do by beings that can easily resemble gods, it isn't terribly compelling, nor nearly as fun as it could be if it were mounting with something more mathematical in mind. Gone are the days of simple set pieces like the truck chase in Raiders Of The Lost Ark, where we had simple stakes, clear choreography, and editing and music that truly sell the stakes.

Which leads me to another casualty of this new paradigm..Music.

This has been addressed before elsewhere, but it couldn't be more damning a notion. That with mass production comes a lowering of standards in one section or another, and in the case of these Marvel films, there has yet to be a single truly memorable score. Considering the action pedigree that these films often pay homage to, the lack of a driving, effectively emotional orchestral score is a stunning vacuum to consider. Whether it be the work of recent composers like Henry Jackman, Brian Tyler, and even Alan Silvestri, there has yet to be the kind of consideration made for the sonic spirit of the film. Without it, and with music that often feels like temp tracks for a generic action reel, all one has is the spectacle to drive matters. Which would be fine if the stakes actually felt palpable.

So in short, once we have multiple characters with their own separate film series combining together every few years, we are pretty assured that the drama will not threaten the future. And in doing so, what our film experience is, is nothing less than episodic television. That is the end game of the shared universe model. We are ostensibly paying to watch hundred million dollar episodes, where very often the dramatic stakes (along with the music) must represent the general overhead in that they cannot reach past a certain ceiling. Which only serves to undercut the drama of what we are actually watching. This, is poisonous to the filmgoing experience to some, myself included. It simply isn't encouraging enough to enjoy another adventure of a favorite action hero, there needs to be something these characters could lose beyond a simple two hour running time. Like emotions and money, investments remain a vital part of the moviewatching experience for me, so without the feeling that there is something to lose from the drama unspooling before us, it feels very much like being treated like a creature of habit. Like a junkie. Like an ATM.

And far be it from me to determine what others should place value in, habit should not be one of them. Having been a longtime fan of anime television series, I know what it is to be taken for a ride from a serialized work that seems to offer no real dramatic stakes let alone a finite path. After a while, it feels like nothing more than a means to stay employed. It becomes a paycheck. And when routine sets in for any form of art, cracks begin to show in realms of passion. It's just inevitable. We see it in all forms of creativity whether it be punk rock, typography, and even diets; once we make the revolutionary the norm, blandness sets in, and so does the rot. It simply isn't all things to all people. Where only the addicted stick around. Again, this is perhaps a bit presumptuous, but Age Of Ultron smacks to me of the beginning of said atrophy. As Joss Whedon walks away from these megapictures, as do I. As fun as it has been, it serves the soul a great deal to seek more than mere distractions. The world is far too vast a place to spend it cycling toward infinity.

It happened to the slasher film. It happened to the simple sequel.

It will happen to the shared universe.