The Disney Era of Star Wars: How has the story changed?

Star Wars has an outsized influence on American pop culture. It was only a few days ago The Last Jedi was the number 1 trend on Twitter, even in the midst of a shooting, Brexit, and impeachment. A two year old children’s movie generated as much discussion as the most important political happenings across two continents. This is the power Star Wars has had on every generation of Americans since 1977. Nothing surrounding Star Wars has generated more discussion than Disney’s handling of the property since its acquisition in 2012. With the final movie in the new trilogy coming out in a few days, I thought now would be a prime opportunity to look at how the story of Star Wars has shifted as it has grown from six movies chronicling the rise, fall, and redemption of Anakin Skywalker to eleven movies telling the story of many people. For the sake of the article, we will be skipping over The Clone Wars, Rebels, The Mandalorian, and Resistance. I recommend all four TV shows, however, as they all tell great stories and contextualize the eras they take place in far better than the movies.

I hadn’t had the opportunity to revisit many of these movies since they were originally in theatres, and I’d certainly never sat down to watch the Star Wars movies as a cohesive narrative. I hadn’t seen The Phantom Menace, Attack of The Clones, or Return of The Jedi since I was a child, nor had I rewatched any of the Disney films since their theatrical release. Like any fan, I had my preconceived notions and opinions of each movie, and I was excited to see how these opinions would change faced with a fresh visit to a galaxy far, far, away. So with my incredibly patient fiance as my viewing partner, I sat down to see how the addition of five movies changed the Star Wars saga.

Upon viewing all ten movies as a whole, I believe that every single Star Wars movie is an entertaining movie. The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones are far and away the weakest of the saga, but I found that Episodes I and II serve a more vital function than I previously suspected in the larger narrative. In the prequel trilogy, we see that even though the Empire is indisputably evil, the preceding Republic wasn’t a paradise either, and the universe was unbalanced as a result of its’ faults.

The first two movies represent the calm before the storm in the larger narrative, much like season 1 of Game of Thrones. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padme, and Palpatine all share lead billing alongside Skywalker. In Episodes I and II, we see the Jedi and the Republic at the peak of their influence. Qui Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi play roles similar to Ned Stark, embodying the best values of the old guard. All around them, however, the viewer sees how corruption has managed to plague the Galaxy during peacetime. We witness how the Senate is too bogged down in bureaucracy to help Queen Amidala, and the subsequent Clone Wars are sparked by a disillusioned Jedi’s yearning to regain independence for his home planet from an intergalactic institution no longer able to serve the people. At the center of this institutional decay is Sheev Palpatine, intentionally weakening the senate, turning the Jedi from a monastic order into a military-industrial complex, and fostering a civil war to divide the galaxy in two via subterfuge.

This is the backdrop of Anakin Skywalker’s upbringing, who from an early age is being groomed for two very different destinies by Palpatine and The Jedi. Anakin is an impressionable 9 year old boy preternaturally gifted in the Force, plucked out the desert and slavery, and proclaimed as the Chosen One to save the entire galaxy. In each movie, Anakin experiences a traumatic loss that pushes him closer to the Dark Side, and instills in him a pathological fear of loss and need for control. He loses his father figure, Qui-Gon, to the Sith, his mother, Shmi, to the Tusken Raiders, and is at risk of losing his wife in childbirth. Instead of constructive advice or nurturing from the Jedi, his adoptive family, he finds only the warning to remove oneself from attachment. The only truly nurturing relationships he has are with Padme, Obi-Wan, and Palpatine.

In Episode III, we see how he is manipulated into having all ties except for his bond to Palpatine severed. Episode III remains perhaps the most melancholic of the series as a result, as Anakin is twisted into betraying the Jedi Order, massacring his old friends and family, accidentally killing his wife, and losing his brotherly relationship with one of the only positive influences in his life. His fear of loss leads him to seek greater power, overthrow the Jedi, and establish a galactic empire as a result. But the Force seeks balance, as his wife Padme helps foment the seeds of rebellion with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. Subsequently, she gives birth to Luke and Leia, as Anakin dies and Darth Vader is birthed in his place. This takes us to our two anthology movies, the first chronological Disney movies, both set during the prime of the Empire.

Solo and Rogue One accomplish a very important task in the larger narrative: they give us a previously unknown glimpse of life under the dictatorship of the Empire. The need for control and possession Vader and Palpatine have extends to a tyranny for the citizens of all the galaxy. Through these tales, the Rebellion that Luke will find himself thrust into takes on a new sense of urgency and importance. It’s a greater triumph when Luke manages to destroy the Death Star because we know the sacrifices the likes of K-2SO, Jyn Erso, and Cassian Andor have made to make that moment possible. We know the vicious cycle of crime and poverty characters like Qi’ra and Beckett found themselves in under the thumb of the Empire. We see the slavery a freedom fighter like Chewbacca was forced to endure. We feel more for Leia at the loss of her father, having seen Bail’s sacrifices to keep the rebellion alive through the prequels and anthology stories. We see how droids are not given rights, and treated as tools. Through these movies, we see a galaxy unbalanced, now too much in the dark. This is most thematically apparent in the Emperor and Darth Vader’s systematic erasure of the Jedi’s presence throughout the galaxy, culminating in the destruction of Jedha in Rogue One. This turns the Jedi from flawed people with good and bad in equal measure into the stuff of legend and myth to the larger galaxy. They will remain myth for the rest of the saga.

The original Star Wars, A New Hope, is now the focal point upon which everything turns, reflecting the actual chronology of the series (Before the Battle of Yavin, and After the Battle of Yavin). The entire saga now pivots on Luke’s call to adventure, beginning his entry into the larger Galaxy. Luke, Han, and Leia are pulled one by one into the larger conflict of the rebellion we’ve spent the last two movies seeing grow from scattered cells into a cohesive fighting force. Alderaan is destroyed, and Obi-Wan sacrifices himself to the larger Force to give Luke, Leia, Han, and Chewie the opportunity they need to destroy the Death Star, turning four movies worth of planning by the Empire into ash. This now also feels like a larger victory having put the Battle of Scariff to screen, and knowing the suffering endured by Jyn and Galen Erso. A New Hope becomes all the greater triumph as a result.

This makes Empire Strikes Back all the more devastating. After having to work so hard to strike a meaningful blow against the Empire, seeing the Rebellion so swiftly put on the ropes is heartbreaking. In the span of one battle, our heroes are sent on the run, and stay on the run for the entire movie. Han, Chewie, and Leia are desperately trying to avoid the Empire, and end up betrayed, broken apart, and frozen in Carbonite for their trouble. Meanwhile, Luke spends the movie being guided by Yoda and Obi-Wan in the ways of the Force. Here, we see in the larger narrative the Jedi philosophy being refined into its purest form by the best of the Jedi, and an apprentice young enough to turn those teachings into an ideology for the future. Despite this, Luke has the same impatience in himself that his Father did, and he pays for it with a mechanical arm, and the revelation that his supposedly deceased father is the biggest villain in the Galaxy, shattering his world. The only silver lining is Leia is still free and able to actively plan their counterattack.

This brings us to Return of the Jedi, as Luke, Leia, and Chewbacca manage to rescue Han from Tatooine. From there, they rejoin the Rebellion. The Empire has managed to swiftly rebuild the Death Star, which will render the sacrifices of all the previous movies in vain if they successfully complete it. The Emperor and Vader have both come to oversee its completion, and the rebels are forced into a last ditch effort to stop the super-weapon before it’s operational. During the conflict in Endor, we see the Emperor is now a dark mirror of the Jedi of the prequels, having grown just as self assured and overconfident in his power and place at the top of the galactic order. He underestimates the humanity left in his apprentice, and is too confident in his ability to bend Luke to his will, as he did Anakin. In the end, this proves his undoing. Just as Luke inherited his father’s hubris, he inherited his empathy. Luke’s love for his father and his choosing of peace over violence redeems his father and together, they defeat the Emperor, topple the Empire, and restore peace to the galaxy. The hate that brought the downfall of the Jedi has now been balanced by the love that destroyed the Sith.

Just because the Empire has been defeated, however, doesn’t mean the traumas of the past generations have been healed, which is the narrative focus of our new trilogy. In The Force Awakens, The Jedi and Sith orders have both passed into legend, with only Luke and Snoke being practitioners of some form of either religion. The actions of Luke, Leia, and Han have inspired a whole new generation of heroes. Rey, Poe, and even Finn grew up hearing legends of The Force, the Jedi, and the Rebellion. In their world, the sequels lay bare the reality that happily ever after isn’t always necessarily happy, and that rebuilding a society after casting aside the yoke of tyranny isn’t an easy process. Starkiller base is a living testament to the legacy of the Empire. The search for Luke is a veritable search for the same hope he brought in Episode IV. We find that same optimism and hope in Rey now. Conversely, the wounds and pain from the first two trilogies are festering generations later, given terrible form in the First Order, and especially Kylo Ren.

Kylo Ren has an interesting parallel in another famous fallen character, Sasuke Uchiha from Naruto. Both are prodigies bearing the weight of their family’s illustrious and insidious legacies. They are both victims of the intrinsic problems of their societies’ to an extent, and they both decide the best solution to the problems of their worlds is to burn it down and start over, with themselves at the helm. Ben has grown up idolizing his grandfather, who he sees as Vader over Anakin. He wants to fulfill the legacy he believes his grandfather has left behind, and has been emotionally wounded just as Anakin was, this time by the thoughtlessness of his uncle, the legendary Luke Skywalker. The inner conflict of Kylo Ren is the living manifestation of the Skywalker clan attempting to wrestle with its’ own legacy.

The Last Jedi puts this wrestling with legacy into sharp relief. The whole movie centers around the Skywalkers and their friends dealing with the actions of the past, and trying to chart a future for themselves, and the larger galaxy itself as a result. The First Order is explicitly attempting to keep the legacy of the Empire alive by burning down the new Resistance. Characters like Finn, Poe, and Rose who grew up with the stories of the Rebellion actively work to keep that spirit alive, doing everything they can to keep the Resistance from being blasted into ash. Rey actively tries to keep the best parts of the Jedi and Skywalker clan alive through her actions, Leia desperately holds the Resistance together, and Kylo Ren makes the fateful decision to burn it all down. By the time the credits roll around, Snoke and Luke are dead, and the spark of rebellion has been reborn and passed down to a new generation.This generation now gets to decide how the history of the Skywalker Saga is written in The Rise of Skywalker.

Star Wars has become an overarching story about the cycle of life, how wounds and traumas can inform generations of hurt, and how love and compassion can lead to lifetimes of selflessness. It’s an examination on how we respond to the choices of our forefathers, and struggle to move forward making sense of their decisions. In American life, Star Wars turned into a mythology of its own. Star Wars is just as much a part of the lives of children today as it was for their fathers, mothers, and grandparents for the past forty years. It’s a tradition to be shared and passed down from parent to child, sibling to sibling, and friend to friend. We all know the magic of being transported to a galaxy far, far, away, and as a result, Star Wars has become as timeless as the stories that it was born from.

For the curious, this is how I rank the Star Wars Movies, along with their scores.

Star Wars: A New Hope 10/10

Star Wars: Rogue One 10/10

Star Wars: The Last Jedi 10/10

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back 10/10

Star Wars: The Force Awakens 8.8/10

Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith 8/10

Star Wars: Return of The Jedi 7.5/10

Solo: A Star Wars Story 7/10

Star Wars: The Phantom Menace 6/10

Star Wars: Attack of The Clones 5/10

Christian Thrailkill is a graduate of Southern Methodist University, musician, and columnist. He lives in Dallas, Texas. Follow him on Twitter @Wolvie616