Archis's Blog

I was watching Star Wars again for the gzillionth time today and realised something in relation to my previous entry on the art of storytelling. Man, how I wish George Lucas could have thought of such subtle moments in the prequel triology.

In the final battle sequence on the Death Star (or around it rather), as Darth Vader is chasing Luke in the trench, he manages to shoot R2D2 and Luke exclaims on his radio, “I’ve lost R2.” The first time I saw it (which was about when I was eight), I remember it suddenly made my heart jump (and it happenend again today). It was the most unassuming and subtle moment in cinema, and yet, the one moment when the importance of the battle really hits you. Throughout the movie, R2 is built up as a character people come to like – brave, different and cute. And yet, it’s done in such a subconcious and unassuming manner that you hardly notice it. Lots of screentime isn’t spent on talking about him or explaining his origins or somehow “developing his character”. It just happens as the film progresses – as a consequence of the plot, not as a deliberate urge of some writer to demonstrate his “artistic ability.” Afterall, he’s just “the sidekick inconsequential robot at Luke’s side.” He’s not a major philosophical character. He’s not a heroic special-effects-enhanced character capable of killing billions of CGI villians on screen. And yet he’s very likable.

When Luke is left alone to fire the photon torpedo through the exhaust vent, we all assume that to be but natural – given that he’s the hero of the movie. And yet, the moment when R2 gets hit, you really realise the risk of the battle – or the dangers of it. He is like “the little engine that could”, a martyr if you will – we don’t know if he’s beyond repair. A moment Lucas tried to recreate in ROTJ, but without as much influence (possibly due to those damn Ewoks).