lilian’s review published on Letterboxd:
“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.”
There’s no film that quite sums up what I love about film, storytelling, and life in general like The Empire Strikes Back does. It’s no revelation that this film is a masterclass of storytelling, world-building, and overall entertainment. There’s just nothing quite as magical. I always have and always will adore every moment of this masterpiece of cinema. It might have a reputation beyond what any film deserves but that is just another testament to its universal power and impact.
I don’t like overhyping things. Even this film, one of my favorites of all time, is not immune to gaining overrated status - in fact, I’d argue it has. Then again, film is more than a reputation. Film is subjective. Whether or not this film is objectively a masterpiece is not a question worth answering. All that matters and all that I know is that this film means a lot to me, and I want to talk about it. So here we are.
What has always drawn me back to Star Wars and, heck, to film itself, is the intricately planned and emotionally charged storytelling at its center. There’s a reason these characters and worlds have stuck with us for over 40 years. In Luke, in Leia, in Han, in Vader, in Yoda...in every individual piece of the puzzle, there’s a different emotional story beat charging the story forward. These characters are fully realized, instantly iconic, and the definition of representing the core themes at a film’s center.
If A New Hope is a beat for beat, perfect representation of traditional story structure, Empire is the deconstruction of everything that came before it. That’s not to say it’s revolutionary or the first of its kind...but the risk this film takes and the rewards that follow are unprecedented. Empire is fully responsible for the era of sequels and franchises that was birthed following its release. It was living proof that sequels could expand and entirely reinvent the concepts that had made their predecessors so good in the first place. But more than anything, it was proof that there were still millions of stories waiting to be told in George’s galaxy far far away.
What Empire does with the themes of the Star Wars universe is perhaps the most important piece of the puzzle, and easily my favorite. While A New Hope was clearly a story of hope, the underdog, and good vs evil, Empire decides to tackle themes much broader than the light and the dark, arguing instead that true conflict is birthed from within. Life isn’t a game of good and evil, as Luke must learn (the hard way).
Life is a game of learning to control one’s emotions to better the galaxy we all inhabit....it’s learning to let attachment be a stepping stool to never ending peace instead of a blockade of discomfort, fear, and hatred. What this film preaches not only rings true in the real world of 1980, or the real world of today, but also entirely encapsulates the themes of every Star Wars story that followed. Empire established that, as in life, Star Wars was never about good vs evil but instead about love vs everything else.
Luke Skywalker is a character driven by emotion. From the moment we meet him in A New Hope, it’s very clear that Luke is a hopeful, if a little impatient, person. He wants the best for himself. He lets his feelings guide him and his dreams define him. And, despite a life of little attachment, the moment good people enter his life, he learns to let love and togetherness be his guiding force. In Empire, Luke and the Rebellion have grown comfortable in hiding on Hoth. They’ve experienced a victory and are in no rush to risk losing the tide of war they only just won. Quite frankly, they’re scared.
That brings us to good old Han Solo. Having earned a brief moment of heroism, Han is anxious to return to a life of smuggling in the hopes to finally make up for past mistakes. Han, by nature, wants to run away, entirely ignorant of the bigger picture, the galaxy at large. There’s only one problem - Han, ever the scoundrel, has managed to catch feelings for Leia Organa. Because of this attachment, and his determination to save Luke from potential threats in the icy wastelands, he agrees to stick around for just a little longer. Why? Again, because of attachment.
Which leads us to Leia. Whether or not she’d like to admit it, Han’s feelings for her are mutual. But no matter. Unlike Han, Leia realizes there’s a bigger picture. Of all the times to fall in love, a Galactic Civil War is not exactly a good one. Leia is emotionally strained at the time, especially given the fact that she has only recently lost her family, her home planet, and everything she ever attached herself to. Because of this, she immediately pushes these feelings down, hoping they’ll just fade with time as reality sinks in. Unfortunately for her, The Force has other plans, and Han staying is nothing short of intentional.
Darth Vader and the Empire are closing in, fates are colliding, and destiny is unfolding. So where does that put Vader? If Luke is a character who gives into emotion too easily, Han is a character who runs from emotion, and Leia is a character who hides her emotion, Vader is the unholy mess of it all. That’s what makes him such a compelling villain - any of these characters, especially Luke, are one step away from becoming him at all times. Darkness, as we learn, lives within all of us, because true darkness is letting one’s emotions control oneself instead of vice versa. Given the context of the prequels and Anakin’s fall, which was driven by fear of loss and the inability to express love freely under the wrongful watch of the Jedi Order, this is only amplified. Having grown up being taught attachment only led to evil, Anakin became the very thing he had been warned against, and in the context of the original trilogy, is a perfect foil to the conflicting dilemmas of our leads.
In a last effort of hope, Luke listens to Obi-Wan’s instruction and heads for Dagobah, where he finds Yoda. If we view Yoda’s portrayal in Empire in the context of the prequels, it becomes clear that Yoda has very much realized the wrong doings of the Jedi Order and the true value of emotion. You can almost see it in his eyes as Order 66 unfolds in Revenge of the Sith that Yoda understands the Jedi’s downfall. Comparatively, in Empire, Yoda has come to entirely embrace the control of one’s emotions and the necessity of attachment by describing the Force in such a universally binding way (just as Obi-Wan’s description of the Force in A New Hope and him telling Anakin he loved him like a brother in Sith are both testaments to Obi-Wan’s growth post-prequels). Even in the context of this film alone, as it was intended in 1980, Yoda offers a near perfect understanding of the themes at this film’s core. He preaches on concepts of attachment, emotional control, an understanding of the bigger picture, the evil within oneself, and the belief in the unseen that is required to lead a successful life. It’s truly magical.
During his time on Dagobah, of course, Luke learns a great deal as well, but most of all must confront the fact that if he doesn’t learn to control his emotions and understand the bigger picture, his fate will be the same as Vader’s.
Back on the other side of the galaxy, Han and Leia, both characters that run and hide from their emotions, are not afforded the opportunity to run - the hyperdrive not working forces Han and Leia to resort to other tactics and confront their feelings head on. Getting swallowed by the Exorgoth is also a perfect representation of getting caught up in the moment instead of understanding the bigger picture (note also that Leia, the more understanding of the two, is the first to notice something’s off). Of course, this is also the period of time where Han and Leia learn to open up and be more emotionally honest with one another. In short, their romantic feelings for each other are only amplified with the looming threat of death. But even as Han takes a risk and confronts the asteroid field ahead of him head on, fate manages to catch up with them. Vader, driven by hatred, uses Han’s weakness to his advantage, hiring Boba Fett, an agent of Jabba the Hutt, to track him down and capture him, completely sure that Luke’s innate attachment to his friends will be his downfall and setting an intricate trap putting everyone’s weaknesses in the spotlight.
Where Luke fails because of his failure to believe in himself, Han fails because of his failure to believe in anything other than himself. Leia, on the other hand, fails because of her fear of attachment, similarly to the Jedi, who always thought big picture instead of in the moment. Unlike the Jedi, Leia is loving by nature, and like Han and Luke, will soon learn to let this facade drop in favor of embracing the Force that surrounds them all.
Finally we’ve arrived on Bespin, where Han makes a last minute decision to stop running and instead rely on past attachments. As uncomfortable as it may be for him, confronting Lando, a person he has clearly screwed over in the past, is full acceptance of the emotions Han so often runs from. Han’s arc for this film, one of learning to accept one’s emotions, is completed. Unfortunately, it’s far too late for that. Han can’t run anymore, as the Empire, and Boba Fett, have finally caught up with him. As a cherry on top, Lando is the one who sold them out.
As if we haven’t dissected enough characters, let’s take a look at Lando Calrissian. Lando’s relation to the overall story is simple - he’s a perfect foil to Han. Instead of running, however, Lando has learned to settle, becoming entirely comfortable with his place as baron administrator on Bespin, and wanting more than anything to be free of the Empire in the hopes that he can avoid the war at large. This, of course, is impossible, and in the third act, Lando must learn to accept the inevitability of war and make a conscious decision to fight, as he does.
Shortly after the Empire’s occupation is revealed, Vader’s plan unfolds perfectly as Luke arrives in the hopes of saving his friends from foreseen danger.
Meanwhile, Han is brought to the freezing chamber, where he is to be frozen and then taken to Jabba the Hutt. In a last moment of love and attachment, Han and Leia share a kiss, and Leia, completing her own arc, confesses her feelings to Han, no longer afraid of them. Han, ever himself, but still not ignorant of or running from the truth, replies with the instantly iconic “I know” in a scene that is nothing short of cinematic perfection (and couple goals).
Which leads us to Luke and Vader’s final confrontation and the pretty bow on top of this cinematic masterpiece. In this final duel, instead of good vs evil, is a display of raw emotion vs raw emotion, which is why it ends with failure for both parties. Vader is fighting with the selfish intent of swaying his son to the dark side and Luke is fighting with the narrow-minded perspective of saving his friends and ignorance of the galaxy and the Force at large. As is inevitable when emotions are handled incorrectly, both parties fail. Vader is left without the son he hoped to sway and Luke is left with a desolate, perspective changing revelation that will come to define his character in Return of the Jedi and leads to a completed character arc in Empire. Luke finding out the truth about his father and choosing to run instead of rushing in headfirst is the completion of his character arc. Oddly enough, Han’s arc was completed by learning not to run from his emotions, proving we all have different ways of overcoming our internal battles. Regardless, Luke’s ultimate success comes from the acceptance of the bigger picture, as does Han’s, and Lando’s, and even Leia’s as she learns to open up. At the end of the day, that’s what Empire is all about - acceptIng one’s emotions, coming to understand and control them, and using them to better the galaxy at large.
Even in the context of the prequels and sequels, the themes of Empire ring true. As discussed beforehand, the fall of Anakin and the Jedi Order directly ties into the mishandling and misunderstanding of emotions. In The Last Jedi, Luke is in a state of mind where this becomes evident to him, and, as a character who always looks to the horizon, lets his fear of repetitive failure consume him. His arc in TLJ is about tapping into the hope buried within him and inspiring a generation of love and hope that outlives him. In a way, his arc in TLJ is a full circle completion of what was birthed with Empire. Rey and Ben are also perfect examples of using attachment, hope and love, along with emotional control, to better the galaxy, and Ben’s redemption and sacrifice are truly the final pieces to the intricate puzzle of emotional control that begins with Empire. And don’t even get me started on Return of the Jedi, a film that, for obvious reasons, perfectly caps off the original trilogy with Anakin’s acceptance and control of his own emotions.
In conclusion, I love Star Wars.
I just spent several in-depth paragraphs discussing the thematic value this film has from a storytelling and even psychological perspective without even once mentioning the technological feats, the iconic acting, the magical score, the phenomenal direction, or the insanely intricate world building. I could talk about this film and it’s impact all day, and I’m positive I’m not alone in that.
The point is, we can all learn a lot from this film we hold so dear. Let us be driven by our love of this franchise, not our hatred of certain chapters. Anyone who falls short on acceptance of another’s opinions is going completely against what this masterpiece preaches and fails to understand the concepts that make this franchise so universally beloved.
“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter”
You must feel the Force around you. It’s there if you look hard enough.