Star Wars is as full of contradictions as there are stars in the sky. It’s a sci-fi property, but one that’s set in the distant past and operates much more in accordance with the rules of fantasy. It’s ostensibly for children, but its subject matter and themes often skew pretty adult (the type of adult that has to do with trade routes and genocide, not sex or foul language). Although it’s one of the few cinematic universes that has reached pop-cultural ubiquity, its fandom is notoriously difficult to please and sometimes even toxic. However, the most contradictory aspect of Star Wars is the relationship between its overtly political nature and its widespread reception.
From George Lucas‘s earliest concepts of what became A New Hope to the final season of Andor, the franchise hasn’t been coy about its worldview. The most warmly and widely embraced installments are often the most political, even if some of the fans embracing them don’t champion their ideas otherwise. For the most part, this has held true as Star Wars has evolved to reflect five decades of ever-changing global life, and as new creatives have taken control of the ship… with one curious exception. The lack of a coherent political philosophy in the two J.J. Abrams films is distinctly un-Star Wars-like and may have contributed to the failure of the Sequel Trilogy.
The Politics of ‘Star Wars’ Are Obvious, Even If Audiences Choose To Ignore Them
It’s been 50 years since the end of the Vietnam War and 48 years since the original Star Wars landed in movie theaters. The idea that George Lucas wrote his family-friendly space opera as an allegory about that conflict is non-controversial today, but that wasn’t necessarily the case in 1977. Though Lucas has been vocal about his inspirations from the beginning, audiences — exhausted by what seemed like non-stop political crises — flocked to Star Wars and its two sequels because it seemed to be a fun, simple story about good triumphing over evil at a time when people desperately needed escapism. Never mind that the Rebels were meant to be the Viet Cong and the Empire was the United States.
Lucas got the chance to fill in the backstory in the Prequel Trilogy films, the first of which was released in 1999. But what began as an allusion to Ancient Rome, Soviet Russia, Nazi Germany, and Nixon’s America transformed into something more contemporary. The September 11 attacks and the War on Terror that followed informed the final film of the trilogy, 2005’s Revenge of the Sith. The prequels were already more politically literal than the Original Trilogy. Despite excursions to pod races or fighting off oversized creatures, the real plot revolves around gridlock, corruption, manufactured pretenses for war, and guardrails that, in the end, fail to save democracy from itself.
The odd mix of Gungan fart humor and college-level space economics largely confused and disappointed fans and critics at the time, but the Prequel Trilogy’s legacy has steadily improved since. Today, Revenge of the Sith is frequently cited as a favorite Star Wars film. In part, that’s because Lucas was so politically prescient. Padmé Amidala’s now oft-memed line, “So this is how liberty dies. With thunderous applause,” was his thesis statement.
He told the Chicago Tribune in 2005 that he was wondering, “how do democracies get turned into dictatorships?” and concluded that, “democracies aren’t overthrown; they’re given away.” Lucas was likely referring to the Patriot Act and support for the Iraqi War at the time, but his and Padmé’s worrying observation has remained applicable.
If the Prequels were concerned with the fall of a free society, then two seasons of Andor, plus Rogue One (arguably the trilogy that’s most consistent in terms of quality and ideology in all of Star Wars), are concerned with the messy and difficult birth of a rebellion. Apart from B2EMO, the Gilroy era stopped trying to be cute or for kids.
Andor and Rogue One are dark, morally complicated, and high-stakes, with unabashed parallels to the present. Viewers are made to have sympathy for Imperial jackboots and to question the tactics of the freedom fighters, but the message is the same as it’s always been in Star Wars: if you’re on the side of the oppressor, you’re wrong. Though they’re wordier than Padmé’s quip, Nemik’s manifesto and Mon Mothma’s Senate speech (which recently won an Emmy for best writing) have joined the list of pivotal moments in the Star Wars canon that are having an impact on social media in our world, too.
The Sequel Trilogy Failed Because the Abrams Films Didn’t Have Anything To Say
George Lucas’s personal politics are anti-authoritarian and even somewhat anti-capitalist. A great many left-leaning fans appreciate this about him and Star Wars, but the franchise appeals to people across the political spectrum because its world is fantastical, and its themes are more about the oppressed versus the oppressor than left versus right. Because everyone can conceive of themselves as the little guy, everyone can bend the narrative to suit their perspective. One of the flaws inherent to the Sequel Trilogy is that there wasn’t much perspective to start with.
The Force Awakens debuted in 2015, shortly before the first Trump presidency. J.J. Abrams helped create an intriguing new cast of characters, and the film itself was entertaining and well-made; however, it wasn’t particularly deep, which is especially telling considering the increasingly politically charged climate. Instead, Abrams seemed preoccupied with recreating the feel of the original Star Wars. It could’ve been about more than mere nostalgia; Finn is an escaped child soldier! Unfortunately, rather than explore why the New Republic failed or how the First Order gained power, Abrams ups the ante with Starkiller Base, which can blow up five planets at once.
Rian Johnson’s The Last Jedi became divisive and fought off accusations of being “woke,” but ironically, it contends that both sides are problematic. Kylo Ren literally argues that the younger generation should abandon the overly simplistic binary of the Sith and Jedi, and D.J. teaches our heroes about the hypocrisy of the industrial war complex. Even Solo and The Mandalorian touch on issues of slavery, droid rights, colonialism, immigration, and religious freedom.
Then there’s The Rise of Skywalker, easily the worst Star Wars film, which has nothing to say and is poorly made. The Rise of Skywalker feels like an assortment of events occurring in random order, precisely because Abrams and his co-writers never did the political worldbuilding necessary to make the Sequel Trilogy pay off. When Palpatine pulls off Order 66 in Revenge of the Sith, it’s the devastating culmination of a three-film plan. When he somehow returns in The Rise of Skywalker, it’s embarrassing and unearned.
Those promising characters from The Force Awakens are squandered, not because of the actors, but because Abrams didn’t ground them in a recognizable reality or give them believable motivations. As the rest of the Star Wars catalog proves, fans don’t have to completely understand or agree with a film’s stance, but stories still need to take stances to make us care. With Star Wars: Starfighter on the horizon, let’s hope the folks at Disney and Lucasfilm have learned this lesson.