Fans Strike Back: Star Wars and the Curious Case of Fan Ownership
Now that the ninth instalment in the decades-spanning Star Wars saga, The Rise Of Skywalker, has all but rolled out of cinemas worldwide having earned more than a billion dollars – which may have been seen as a bit of a disappointment by the Disney executives – it is a good time to assume a wider perspective of the series. A number of pieces have been written on this very subject, touching on the longevity of the franchise, analysing its narrative granularity, with CLAPPER’s own Jasim Perales taking a look at Cohesiveness in the Star Wars Franchise; however, what this article attempts to illuminate is the rather peculiar dynamic between the Star Wars films and its fanbase that has steadily grown to become an influential force and ended up dictating the terms of how the Skywalker saga would eventually come together in its grand finale.
To properly assess the extent of this phenomenon, one has to look back at the humble origins of the series, which at the time was not a series at all. The 1977 original was a standalone movie simply titled Star Wars and George Lucas would only add the subtitle A New Hope for its cinematic re-release. Nevertheless, there was something special and, perhaps, uncommon about this film because despite its barebones narrative structure reliant on the well-worn hero’s journey archetype as the engine, it was set in a lived-in, organic world which happened to have been described almost exclusively using throwaway lines of dialogue scattered throughout. Thus, although most of the expository dialogue worked in service of the main story, the viewer could also learn that at some point in the history of this universe there were such things as The Clone Wars, that the Galactic Empire was undergoing a violent consolidation of power, that the planet Tatooine was run by the Hutt cartel, that the Jedi were a near-extinct culture of magic-wielding hermits, or that Kessel was an important place for smugglers. Coupled with the idea of letting alien races speak made-up languages, only some of which were subtitled, and a marketing decision to accompany the movie’s release with a wide-ranging line of toys, action figures and collectibles, the universe of Star Wars all of a sudden gained a completely new dimension that openly invited fans to fill in the blanks left by the filmmakers. The movie became a sandbox and – analogously to real-life sandboxes – its users ended up reshaping and transforming it according to their personal whims, inadvertently ending up influencing the progression of the saga.
The genesis of this process is neatly encapsulated in the character of Boba Fett, a bounty hunter hired by Darth Vader to capture Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back. He is widely regarded as an iconic character around whom a sizeable cult following has been cultivated by the growing fandom. Yet, if one looks critically at his importance to the narrative, he is merely an afterthought. In fact, Boba Fett’s name wasn’t mentioned until The Return Of the Jedi and even then it was uttered in passing before Fett was unceremoniously dispatched into the gaping maw of the Sarlacc Pit where he was to be digested over a period of a thousand years. It is highly probable that if it hadn’t been for the accompanying toys and a weirdly cool-looking cowboy vibe he exuded, Boba Fett would have been remembered as nothing more than a faceless henchman. But he wasn’t. In fact, he was enough of an icon that Lucas retroactively included him in the hangar scene in the Special Edition of A New Hope, which was one of the first examples of the fanbase being able to exert influence over how the canon of the series was shaped. This tip of the hat on behalf of the filmmaker was a sign of validation of the immeasurable effort put in by the collective hive mind of the Star Wars fandom that filled the vacuum of the original world-building template with detail and expanded the universe so much that it took a life of its own. Thanks to the fans, Boba Fett didn’t meet his end in the pit; he went on to have many more adventures.
The original trilogy proved to be a fertile ground for fans to stretch the muscles of their imagination and imbued the galaxy far, far away with many more dimensions. It also included giving implicit depth to a lot of what one would encounter while watching the films. The unforeseen by-product of this crowd orchestrated world-building was that it inadvertently empowered the fans who spent untold hours enriching this universe and adorning it with the levels of detail the filmmakers would never have been able to reach by way of novels, comic books, role-playing games, etc. Their devotion to this world was slowly turning into squatter-esque ownership, patiently growing in confidence and developing its own sense of taste as to what kind of content belongs in this universe and – as George Lucas would find out the hard way – which parts of the canon were sacrosanct. The latter of the two is illustrated most appropriately by one of the most infamous changes instigated by George Lucas for the Special Edition re-release of the original trilogy – the one that saw Greedo shoot first instead of Han. A lot of the new content devised for this release was waved through without much ado, like Obi-Wan's scream in the desert or various insert shots with CG-enhanced vistas, but not this one. The fans were furious and they let their feelings be heard. It didn’t change much at the time, butLucas eventually caved in somewhat and re-did the scene again for the Blu-Ray release to look as though they shot at the same time — his idea of a compromise. The point still stands, however, that the fans have succeeded in exerting influence over the filmmakers.
Another example of this exact phenomenon is found in the prequel trilogy that introduced one of the most divisive characters in the franchise up to that point – Jar Jar Binks. Perhaps it was difficult to imagine at the time that the series had been steered since Return of the Jedi to appeal decisively to younger demographics; otherwise, how is one supposed to explain the introduction of Ewoks? In any case, the silly sidekick based partially on Disney’s Goofy and designed as an engine of comic relief was almost universally hated by critics and audiences alike, which prompted the filmmakers to adjust their plans for this character and removed him from the spotlight in the follow-up instalments. However, as years went by, Jar Jar Binks was eventually assimilated by the fanbase, partially as a result of the increasingly popular theory that excused his outrageous ridiculousness as camouflage hiding a villainous character. It was even postulated that Jar Jar may have been secretly puppeteering events, orchestrating Palpatine’s rise to power and enabling Anakin’s impending shift to The Dark Side. This apocryphal theory concocted by zealous fans struggling to restore homogeneity and cohesion to the Star Wars universe was eventually lent support by Disney shortly after acquiring Lucasfilm, which may have been a vital point of no return in the journey of the fanbase towards assuming total control over the series. Not only was the franchise officially in the hands of people who have grown up adoring those movies, by the time Episode VII was in production, the creative team producing it was well aware of the expectations placed upon them by the fanbase starved of new content and the serious risk of potential backlash if those expectations are not treated seriously.
This is perhaps one of the reasons why The Force Awakens was such a massive success: it pandered directly to its target audience by playing on their nostalgia of the original and promising a soap opera-esque mystery of Rey’s parentage akin to that of Luke’s. A cynically-minded observer could easily dismiss the entire film as unoriginal, but it worked regardless. The movie went on to become one of the biggest box office successes in history and lured the Disney executives into thinking they could get away with a modicum of experimentation in the development of the new trilogy. They hired Rian Johnson to write and direct what we now know as The Last Jedi, who took it upon himself to subvert the expectations of the viewers and introduce some uncertainty into the equation. As the record shows, Johnson’s film quickly went on to become the most controversial entry in the franchise and sparked a violent backlash as a result of effectively dismissing the budding enigma of Rey’s place in the soap opera of who’s related to whom, giving Leia superpowers, hinting at potentially revolutionary ideas with the broom boy scene at the end and – most markedly – by dispatching Luke Skywalker in a way the fans saw at best as anti-climactic and at worst as downright sacrilegious.
Furthermore, this violent reaction on behalf of disgruntled fans found a lightning rod in the form of a newly-added character of Rose Tico, a young woman of colour with a bubbly persona and an emotionally-driven quest potentially destined to play a major part in the grand resolution of the trilogy. One would be able to point out subliminal sexism driving this visceral revolt taking over the online discourse surrounding the film and even use it to reflect on the highly polarized tribalism the western societies have devolved into; however, the main mission of any Star Wars has always been to make money and stoking division or making a political stance would potentially threaten the marketability of this well-established brand. It has also become blindingly obvious to everyone involved in producing those movies that the fans were in full control now and they were a force to be reckoned with. Thus, Rose Tico shared the fate of Jar Jar Binks and ended up excised from the narrative of what became The Rise Of Skywalker and J.J. Abrams, who was re-hired to helm it, was tasked with undoing everything Rian Johnson had the audacity to tinker with with a view to give the fans what they wanted to see.
Thus, the grand finale of the Star Wars saga became a mish-mash of retroactive engineering, unwinding and redirecting the limelight to once again shine at Rey with her mysterious past and vindicating Kylo Ren while bringing Emperor Palpatine back from the dead. As the box office receipts would indicate, this may not have been an entirely successful endeavour because although The Rise Of Skywalker made immense amounts of money during its theatrical run, it never matched The Force Awakens, let alone surpassed it. It only goes to show that pandering to the expectations of a mob armed with pitchforks and torches is a difficult balancing act. And if one considers the possibility that the aforementioned mob has effectively staged a hostile takeover of the series, it will become apparent that the creative control over the series has been ceded onto a faceless collective of fans who struggle to articulate what they would like to see and are adamant about what they do not want to see instead. The cult of Star Wars has officially evolved to become a religion.
Sadly, this might mean we will have to wait a long time before we see another universally accepted entry to the beleaguered Star Wars series. The sandbox has been taken over by bullish kids who do not allow anyone else to play there. Perhaps we just have to wait until they grow up a bit and leave on their own accord before anyone can safely handle this beautiful world of Jedi knights, Sith lords, smugglers, evil Empires and Rebel Alliances.