matril

One by one our heroes are shown being tormented by their captors. First we have Chewbacca, howling in pain from a high-pitched siren. Then the torture inexplicably stops, which is a form of torture in itself. When will it come back? What are they planning? Why won't they explain anything?

In any case, Chewie uses the brief respite to examine Threepio's sad condition. There's a surprisingly tender moment as he holds the droid's head in his hands. For all of Threepio's obnoxiousness, his friends really are fond of him. Which makes it all the more painful when he's reactivated and appears to suffer a series of flashbacks; the realization that Imperial troops are in the city right before he gets shot.

Han's torture is similarly brutal, and once again it's a friend (or former friend, anyway) having to witness his pain that makes it all the worse. Just as Han is about to be lowered to the electric tormentor, we cut to Lando standing outside, trying not to visibly wince at the screams.

Vader has an awful knack for knowing just how to extract maximum anguish from his victims. And why wouldn't he, considering his past? He knows precisely what caused him the most acute agonies, driving him to desperation and darkness. Exquisite pain can drive one to empathy and active care for others, or it can drive one to hardened indifference and cruelty. Alas, Vader chose the latter. His reaction to Lando's protests is cold and unfeeling. Of course, he doesn't realize that all his snares to draw in Luke are also laying the groundwork for Lando to shift his allegiances and directly oppose the Empire's power. Evil is inherently self-destructive.

Next time, a bitter confrontation...

The first shot of the next scene bears a strong resemblance to the interior of the Jawa sandcrawler from the previous film. It's quite a shock to be reminded of the grit and grunge of Tatooine in this pretty place. But even worse than our pair of anxious droids, we have pieces of Threepio. Looks like Chewbacca found him in the very nick of time.

After a boisterous confrontation with the Ugnaughts, Chewie manages to escape with the droid's parts, and we have yet more juxtaposition -- amid the gleaming chamber where our friends are staying, Threepio's grim destruction.

Next time, the shattering of any final illusions...

Luke's friends are in trouble, and he has to rescue them. An unambiguous duty, right? Well...not according to Yoda. Even as Luke is on the verge of departing, Yoda continues to urge him not to leave. It's a painful conundrum. If he honors the very cause that Han and Leia fight for, he must be willing to sacrifice anything, even his loved ones. It's so crucial that more than just a disembodied voice, Obi-Wan's ghostly form shows up to bolster Yoda's argument. (Though interestingly, he's not 'life-sized,' instead a smaller version that doesn't overshadow Yoda.)

They warn him of the dangerous temptations he faces during this period of his training. No doubt they have his father's mistakes very much in mind here. But Luke seems to hardly hear them, so troubled is he by the vision he's seen.

So off he goes, which leads to a curious collection of shots featuring the two Jedi Masters. The X-Wing's lights shift in colors and tone, making them almost seem to fade and vanish. This pairs with Obi-Wan sadly claiming That boy is our last hope.

But then Yoda is briefly illuminated by a bright light from the ship, which just as quickly changes to a dreamy red, as Yoda declares There is another.

You could probably create the over-extended analysis that since the bad guy's lightsaber is red, red is always evil and therefore Yoda's claim is ominous and bodes something sinister. But let's not be ridiculous. The vibe here is more mysterious and mystical than anything else. I remember it always used to give me goosebumps as a little kid. One brief phrase, unexplained, left for us to ponder and speculate.

Next time, blue skies and cloudy circumstances...

I just adore the design of Cloud City, the dreamy orange color palette and the glittering skyline. It's a first glimpse at something beautiful and warm in contrast to the Empire's cold sterility, or the Rebellion's grungy makeshift necessities.

But there's an ominous undertone as well. Our heroes are given a rather hostile welcome at first, and even after Lando's severe demeanor switches to playful teasing, we see a wariness in Leia's expression that keeps us from relaxing.

Now the peachy horizon could be seen as an eternal sunset, the beginning of the end. That liminal space where nothing is certain or settled. Even without the warning of Luke's vision, we would know something is troubling about this apparent slice of paradise.

Next time, a study in contrasts...

The Falcon has disappeared, and we get a shorthand visual for Vader's reaction -- another officer summarily executed by Force-strangling. With cold sarcasm Vader dismisses the dead Needa's apology, then orders a renewed search for the missing ship with the assumption that it has gone somewhere far distant by the means of hyperspace.

And now for an edition of Where's Waldo, Millennium Falcon edition! Can you find it? Like a little bug hiding on the back of a giant animal's head.

We get a humorous shot at the sideways view from the cockpit, as all the Star Destroyers disperse and unwittingly leave behind their prey. Adding to the humor is how Leia summarily deactivates Threepio and the droid slumps into an inanimate object. Nice physical acting from Anthony Daniels. And a nice choice to show Leia and Han absorbed in an unseen starmap, indicated simply by the shifting blue light reflecting on their faces.

But alas. Just as we're thinking our heroes' cleverness has succeeded, letting the Falcon drift off with the trash, another little ship emerges from the garbage, piloted by a familiar bounty hunter. No dialogue needed. We know that serious trouble is coming. (And from the prequels, we know why Boba isn't fooled by the Han's game of hide-and-seek, having it seen it before from Obi-Wan!)

Next time, visions of pain...

Back out of the asteroid and into worse trouble, Han and company discover that their repairs haven't been quite effective. Han's expression is an amusing mixture of confusion and indignation, but I especially like how Leia has a sort of weary resignation, as if she's come to expect the Falcon's failure.

So Han charges forward into an utterly insane idea. Fly directly at a Star Destroyer, so convincingly that even the Imperial officers believe it's coming in for an attack and duck down as if to avoid the collision...

Then vanish. For now, all we get is the Imperials' bafflement as they find no trace of the Falcon. Only later will we find out where Han actually took the ship. It's a tantalizing little cliffhanger.

Next time, a masterful arrangement of visuals, music and theme...

Till now, the only Jedi training we've seen is a brief session with Obi-Wan teaching Luke with a lightsaber, a floaty ball remote, and a helmet. What does it look like for Yoda? An intense physical routine, to start with. Not only is Luke expected to run through the swamp, swinging on vines and executing flips through the air, but he's carrying the Jedi Master on his back the entire time. How does this bodily exercise provide a spiritual training? It's not that unusual if you look at various religious traditions which require some process of exerting the body in order to achieve higher awareness.

All the while, however, Yoda is teaching Luke vital doctrine as well. The difference between the Dark Side and the good, the crucial importance of being mindful of one's emotions and the weaknesses that can lead to darkness. Yoda emphasizes a certain stillness of mind even while the body is in constant motion. You will only have discernment, he tells Luke, when you are calm, at peace. Luke is trying his best to achieve this state, but it's so counter to what he's used to. He's always been energetic, impulsive, eager to act and move forward, impatient with waiting. While those inclinations aren't evil of themselves, they can be twisted into temptation.

His first test occurs when he senses something unsettling nearby. (Note how his face is half shadow, half light.) Yoda explains it is a place of the Dark Side, and Luke must go there. Curiously, when Luke asks what it holds, the Jedi Master replies Only what you take with you. This is a journey of the mind, not the body. Yet even when Yoda tells Luke he won't need his weapons, he misses the warning and takes them anyway. He practically scoffs at the notion of danger that can't be fought through physical means.

We're given multiple visual clues that this isn't a place of grounded reality. A descent into the underrealm, a cave of mist and shadows. Then most tellingly, the action shifts into slow motion, I believe the only instance in the entire saga. This is a personal preference of mine, I admit, but I have very little patience for frequent use of slo-mo. It's heavy-handed, unsubtle and practically ubiquitous in most action-oriented movies nowadays. In contrast, when it shows up so rarely as in these films, you can be sure there's a very deliberate reason for it.

This is a dream. Whether it's all in Luke's head or some outward manifestation that the cave creates, I don't know and I don't really worry about it. The metaphor is the meaning. The important thing is that when Darth Vader himself shows up, we quickly realize it's not real. The Imperial March that has played at his every appearance in the film is now decidedly absent. Everything feels odd, like it's being viewed through water or a blurry mirror. The clashing lightsabers seems more like a dance than a battle. Then, if anyone is left doubting, Luke beheads the Sith Lord. No one would expect such a towering villain to be taken down so quickly and easily.

And of course he wasn't. Instead, a baffled Luke watches as the helmet bursts apart to reveal a chillingly familiar face. The symbolism of this image is perfect because it works on multiple levels. Luke is in danger of becoming the very monster he despises. Lashing out with violence destroys himself just as much as his enemy. And then there is the foreshadowing of his secret parentage.

It changes the stakes dramatically. Didn't we want Luke to kill Vader? Isn't that how we get a happy ending? Now we have to wonder if it's possible to vanquish evil without becoming evil yourself. Luke is no longer facing just a straightforward battle against the bad buy. He must battle with his own inner darkness as well.

Next, a bit of scum and villainy...

Yoda's hut is an excellent example of set design, both the exterior and interior (all the more remarkably when you consider they would have needed to build a whole structure underneath for puppeteering purposes). Organic, like it grew up out of the swamp. Tiny and humble, well-suited for Yoda's simple needs but far too cramped for human-sized people.

And just like his physical constrictions, Luke is feeling strained by the little man's delays (not knowing he is in fact Yoda). He's impatient, frustrated, and dismissive. It's upon Luke's newest outburst that Yoda reveals his true identity -- not directly to Luke, but by telling an unseen Obi-Wan that we cannot train him. What a triumph of “creature” design and performance by Frank Oz that we fully feel Yoda’s disappointment and sorrow in this moment. That we look at this expression and see a fully realized character, not just a goofy puppet.

And much praise for Mark Hamill as well, who had to work as the only actor on the set, hearing Frank Oz’s delivery through an earpiece, and yet he’s fully immersed in his performance. We feel his humiliation when he claims he’s ready, only to smack his head on the too-low ceiling. And we share his unease when Yoda warns him that he will be afraid, his demeanor turned ominous and chilling. The scene closes, appropriately enough, with a transition between Luke’s wary face and the looming Imperial fleet. Ominous indeed.

Next time, a bit of subconscious imagery becomes real…

Back on the Falcon, everyone's cranky and trying to repair the clunky old ship. This shot gives us a sense of the cramped space Leia is working in, almost as if the camera had to be tucked into a corner just to catch a glimpse of her. Curiously, the next shot is angled from below. Han looks kind of hesitant, almost meek as he peeks in on Leia's work.

Now, perhaps, we'll come to a controversial opinion. Han's behavior in this scene could be interpreted as creepy or even coercive. Leia tells him repeatedly to back off, and he doesn't. He moves closer, engages in more un-requested physical contact, and essentially backs her into a wall until he cuts off her last protest with a kiss.

However...I don't actually think Han is a creep. I think this sort of 'putting up a protest but she secretly wants it' is a common trope in storytelling that hadn't undergone much scrutiny at the time this film was made, and has only more recently been called into question as problematic. Meaning, I don't think Han was intended to come across as creepy. We all know that Leia has feelings for him and keeps stubbornly denying them till she lets her guard down. When the shot pulls back, it's obvious that she's reciprocating, not fighting or frozen. We can understand things about characters that don't necessarily work in real life. In real life, no means no and only an enthusiastic yes means yes. And that's enough moralizing about consent for today.

Meanwhile, the scene is interrupted by a delightfully oblivious Threepio, who thinks that Han's sarcastic thanks is entirely genuine. And we get a truly pained look from Han when he realizes that Leia has fled. There's a lot of deep feelings going on here, but they're really lousy at sharing them.

Next time, the face of evil...

Dagobah isn't the only location where murky shadows symbolize the unconscious and the unknown. Look at the cave where the Falcon is hiding; a dank, dark place that, as we'll shortly see, isn't quite what it seems.

In the cockpit, powering down all but essentials means that we get even more darkness and shadows. There is something very evocative about faces wreathed in shadows. Something about our hidden parts, the unspoken motives or desires that we usually keep below the surface. In this case, the 'unstable' asteroid leads to closer contact between Leia and Han, and she is absolutely not ready to deal with that closeness. Look at these two idiots, yet again denying their feelings with sarcasm. Even when she's alone again, Leia hardly allows herself to show any emotion except anger.

Next time, a moment straight out of a fairy tale....