The Quantum Mirror Archives — Part II of V
Recovered review — May 1984
The Republic has finally arrived, and it is not quite the film anyone expected.
After three pictures concerning the struggle against the Galactic Empire, the filmmakers have given us something surprisingly unfamiliar: a Republic that is still prosperous, largely peaceful and recognizably democratic.
What follows is less a traditional adventure than a study of how a civilization begins to surrender its freedoms without realizing what it has done.
A galaxy before the Empire
The opening sequence is magnificent.
Across a succession of planetary systems, commercial ships pass through crowded orbital ports, diplomatic vessels arrive at government stations, and citizens of countless species conduct the ordinary business of civilization.
The Galactic Republic is old. Its institutions have survived for centuries. Its problems are numerous, but its achievements are undeniable.
For the first time, audiences understand what Obi-Wan Kenobi meant when he spoke of the Old Republic in the original Star Wars.
He was describing something that actually deserved to be remembered.
Yet a troubling pattern has emerged.
Distant star systems complain that the central government favors wealthy industrial worlds. Economic disputes have become territorial conflicts. Republic authorities frequently lack the means to enforce negotiated settlements.
The Senate debates while frontier populations suffer.
Into this political uncertainty steps an ambitious senator named Palpatine.
He is not initially presented as a sinister figure.
His arguments are thoughtful, sometimes compassionate, and frequently difficult to refute.
If the Republic cannot protect its citizens, he asks, what purpose does it serve?
The young Skywalker
The film introduces Anakin Skywalker as a remarkably talented young pilot working in the Republic's exploratory service.
He is charismatic, practical and occasionally reckless.
He is also an adult.
This proves to be an inspired decision.
Rather than concerning itself with a mysterious childhood destiny, The Republic allows Anakin's character to emerge through his decisions.
When a humanitarian mission encounters an unexpected military threat, Anakin disregards his orders and saves a convoy of refugees.
His courage attracts the attention of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a respected member of the Jedi Order.
Kenobi recognizes Anakin's unusual sensitivity to the Force, but is more interested in his understanding of responsibility.
Anakin believes that possessing the ability to save someone creates an obligation to act.
Obi-Wan agrees, with a qualification: possessing power does not necessarily confer the wisdom to use it.
Their disagreement becomes the foundation of a friendship that promises to be central to the new trilogy.
A love story without royalty
The film's other great introduction is Padmé Amidala, an administrator coordinating humanitarian relief operations.
She is neither a princess nor a political celebrity.
Her work concerns food supplies, medical assistance and the immense practical difficulties of helping populations displaced by conflict.
Anakin believes that decisive action can overcome almost any obstacle.
Padmé understands that good intentions are not enough to maintain the systems upon which millions of lives depend.
Their attraction develops out of this disagreement.
In one beautiful sequence, the two observe a distant blue star rising over a refugee world. Neither speaks. For a few moments, the responsibilities of their professions disappear.
The simplicity of the scene recalls Spielberg's finest work.
A victorious catastrophe
The film reaches its climax when unidentified warships attack a Republic humanitarian convoy.
Anakin intervenes against orders, improvising a defense that saves thousands of civilians.
His actions make him a hero.
But the destruction of the attacking ships creates a diplomatic catastrophe. They belonged to a government with which the Senate was still negotiating.
Obi-Wan asks whether Anakin knew this.
He did not.
Would it have changed his decision?
No.
Meanwhile, Palpatine uses the incident to argue for a permanent central military force.
The Republic must never again depend upon the improvisation of individual pilots to protect its citizens.
The legislation passes overwhelmingly.
In the closing sequence, enormous Republic warships assemble above the capital.
The Senate celebrates.
The Jedi do not.
The camera lingers upon the fleet as John Williams introduces a musical phrase that audiences will recognize as the beginning of the Imperial March.
It is a chilling conclusion.
Our verdict
The Republic succeeds because it gives nearly everyone a reasonable explanation for what they are doing.
Anakin is right to save the refugees.
Obi-Wan is right to fear the consequences of unrestrained authority.
The Senate is right to worry about the Republic's ability to defend itself.
Even Palpatine is right about some of the government's failures.
Yet these individually understandable decisions begin constructing the machinery of dictatorship.
We leave the cinema knowing how the Republic will end.
The unsettling realization is how easily we might have applauded its beginning.
Next: The Clone Wars (1985) — The war that made Anakin Skywalker a hero and taught him to justify almost anything.
From the fictional Quantum Mirror Archives. This is an imagined contemporary review of an alternate-history Star Wars film, not a historical film release.
