Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope (1977)
dir. George Lucas
Rated: PG
image: ©1977 20th Century Fox
Star Wars is three years older than I am. The film, now known by the canonical title, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope, was released in 1977, and is celebrating its 45th anniversary this year. As part of that celebration, The Texas Theatre is screening all three original trilogy entries over two weekends. During an introductory speech before New Hope began, the presenter mentioned that, while they couldn’t say with absolute certainty, the current caretakers of the Texas believe that this is the first time the original trilogy has ever been screened at the venue.
I mention the relative age of myself and the most influential, culture-shaping sci-fi franchise in the history of cinema as a way to highlight that, like so many millions of other film fans, I do not remember a time when Star Wars did not exist. It has been a constant in my life, albeit to varying degrees of importance, for (gulp) nearly a half-century now. So, there is basically no way I can skip seeing it on the big screen when the opportunity presents itself.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had the pleasure of taking the rollercoaster ride with Luke, Leia, Han, Obi-Wan, Chewy, and the droids in the incomparable 40-foot-high, larger-than-life theatrical setting. The first time was for the 1997 Special Edition rerelease of the movies in anticipation of The Phantom Menace making its way into our cultural psyche two years later. (I might have also seen them again in ’99, alongside Phantom Menace’s release, but I can’t swear to it. My memories of that time are getting hazier.)
The ’97 screenings stick out in my mind because I had to travel 45 minutes from my rural East Texas hometown to see them. The local Cinemark didn’t book these 20th anniversary screenings, so my dad drove my brother and me a few towns over to see them – my driver’s license was barely six months old in January of 1997, when the Special Editions were released, so I was probably nervous about driving that far on my own. Besides, my dad had never seen any of the original – at the time, only – trilogy, so he, my brother, and I did it as a bonding experience. My dad likes movies, but he’s not, you know, a movie guy. I’ll never forget those magical screenings in the tiny Majestic 6 theater in Bonham, Texas with my dad and brother.
I couldn’t have hoped for a better experience with the Texas Theatre screening than the one I got. In attendance was actor David Ankrum, who provided the voice for rebel X-Wing pilot Wedge Antilles. In addition to his voice work for New Hope, Ankrum was brought back to voice the same character in 2016’s Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. The actor spoke about his history with the franchise, and how Antilles was portrayed by two different actors on screen in New Hope because the first had trouble remembering his lines, causing George Lucas to recast him mid-production.
During the brief remarks from Ankrum, the MC asked the audience for a show of hands of anyone who had never before seen A New Hope. Only two hands went up. One was from a teenager; a little odd, but not shocking. The second was a man who looked to be in his early thirties. The room was stunned. The MC made a joke about how he wanted to switch to interviewing this man instead, so he could find out how he had made it this far in life without seeing Star Wars.
It really did feel like we were looking at an attraction in a zoo or circus. During the actual screening, I found myself looking at the back of the guy’s head every so often, wondering what he was thinking of the movie. He nodded his head in the affirmative when asked if he planned on coming back the next weekend for the screenings of Empire and Jedi, and we all agreed he needed to give an on-camera interview after seeing all three to give his thoughts.
I was sitting a few seats down from a family with two young kids. One looked to be about eight and the other was maybe ten. At several points during the movie, I was struck by an intense curiosity to know how the special effects played with kids who are growing up with infinitely more sophisticated CGI than I did. I am in no way able to look at the special effects of New Hope objectively – see the fact that I’ve never known the world without Star Wars in it.
The special effects of the first Star Wars look as good to me now as they did when I really fell in love with it in early high school. I had to stop myself from turning to the kids and saying something like, “Does this look good to you, or is it totally hokey?!?” Judging from the fact that both kids were on the literal edge of their seats throughout the screening – the older one was bopping around in his seat any time the iconic John Williams score kicked in – made me believe it was the former.
The opening chapter in George Lucas’s space opera is a non-stop thrill ride. It’s not hard to believe the contemporary reporting of the picture’s 1977 release of kids who treated the movie like an amusement park ride, getting right back in line to see it again as soon as it ended. The major beats of the movie – space battle; Luke meeting Obi-Wan and losing everything he’s known; Luke meeting Han; the rescue of Leia from the Death Star and the ensuing dog fight in space to escape Imperial troops; the climactic assault on the Death Star – are strung together in non-stop action.
At the same time, on this screening, I was struck by the seeming glacial pace of New Hope compared to action movies made today. It might be a thrill ride, but within each individual scene, especially ones without fighting, the movie is allowed to breathe with much longer shot-lengths between cuts than is typical in contemporary action movies. It never felt antiquated, but I certainly got the sense that it is locked in a different era of film history.
It's also still easy to see, even all these years later, why New Hope captured the imagination of the world and the zeitgeist of its time. Lucas created some iconic cinematic imagery that will likely still be revered in film art circles long after I’m dead. The binary sunset sequence, with its otherworldly magic hour glows of pink and purple, is indescribably beautiful. John Williams’s gorgeous and deeply moving score – itself an extended homage to English composer Gustav Holst’s 1918 orchestral suite The Planets – elevates the goofy sci-fi trappings into something ethereal and downright magical.
His soaring cue for the aforementioned binary sunset is only one example. The orchestral introduction to Obi-Wan Kenobi is another. The moment when we meet Obi-Wan, when legendary actor Sir Alec Guinness sweeps his Jedi hood back from his head, is another of those indelible cinematic Star Wars moments that achieves transcendence.
During this screening, I imagined Guinness, drunk on a fifth of scotch, lamenting that his earlier career would be eclipsed by a kid’s sci-fi action yarn. While he did only take the part of Obi-Wan on the condition that he wouldn’t have to participate in the film’s promotion, Guinness was, according to everyone involved, a consummate professional who inspired his fellow cast and crew alike during filming. And if Star Wars serves to inspire a single fan to dig deeper into the legendary Guinness’s catalog, all’s the better. (If you’ve never seen it, stop what you’re doing right now and screen The Bridge on the River Kwai. I’ll wait.)
Carrie Fisher is absolutely luminous as Princess Leia. The actress is radiant each time she appears on screen. This time through, I was also struck by how well-rounded and tenacious Leia is. I’ll humbly offer up a feminist reappraisal that Fisher’s character is who we should all be identifying with the most in New Hope.
Luke is all awe-shucks naïveté and heedless of danger. Han believes in nothing but himself and wears his cynical sarcasm like a badge of honor. Leia is the happy medium. She cares about justice and causes greater than herself, but possesses a world-weariness and sharp edge that comes from hard-won experience. She also refuses to take shit from anyone, as evidenced in the laser battle preceding the trash compactor escape. Again and again throughout the course of the original trilogy, Leia is proven to be the person with the plan and knowhow to get the job done.
The Texas Theatre screening of New Hope was of the 1997 Special Edition of the film. While I was disappointed that I wasn’t experiencing the film as originally released in 1977 – a feat that George Lucas has made all but impossible, as he considers his tweaked version the definitive one – it was refreshing to come to the realization that it wasn’t the end of the world.
There are soooooo many worse things happening in the world – the possibility that something like catastrophic global climate change will make what version of Star Wars is available completely meaningless is only one – that I can’t get worked up about it. Any bellyaching from overgrown adolescents who whine ad infinitum about Lucas “ruining” or (in a particularly callous and disgusting word choice) “raping” their childhood exemplifies the height of jackassery. It shines a light on people putting way too much importance on issues that are, when compared to actual injustice, meaningless.
Still, I was acutely aware that each time those 1997 CGI effects – which, to my mind, look infinitely worse than any of the original practical effects – popped up, I had to suppress an urge to let out a little, only audible to me, boo.
The new scene with Jabba looks dreadful and serves no purpose to the story. And Han will forever and always shoot first, if only in my heart.
But, ultimately, it’s George Lucas’s toy (at least it was, until he sold it to Disney), and the one and only exception against anyone tinkering with a piece of film art after the fact is if it’s the author of the work doing the tinkering.
We have no way of knowing what distant-future generations will hold up as the pinnacle in human artistic achievement. Is it possible that people 500 years from now will study and appreciate Star Wars the way we do with the works of William Shakespeare now? No one can answer that with any amount of certainty, but I think it’s possible.
Why it got 5 stars:
- The cultural impact of Star Wars can’t be overstated. It changed movies, and, in some ways, entertainment itself, forever.
Things I forgot to mention in my review, because, well, I'm the Forgetful Film Critic:
- Some key moments that will dwell in my soul forever:
- “But, I was going into Toshi Station to pick up some power converters!” was a favorite in high school
among my friends to make fun of Luke being whiney.
- The blue milk.
- “Everything’s fine… How are you…?”
- Peter Cushing is so great in this.
- Ok, the updated special effects for the Death Star blowing up (as well as Alderaan) look pretty fantastic. But that’s the only one!
Close encounters with people in movie theaters:
- Practically a packed house for the gargantuan auditorium at the Texas. We were all digging it immensely. By my estimation, it was roughly 60/40 men/women. All things Star Wars are currently available with a subscription to Disney+.