"It's all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense"

Rating: 10/10 (16 February 2017)

(cue the 20th Century Fox fanfare)
A cameraman exclaiming "Pass me reel R2-D2!" A gigantic dog (Indiana, of course) riding in the passenger seat, conjuring images of a gigantic furry co-pilot. Birthed from a childhood enraptured by Flash Gordon, homaging Kurosawa, and nodding to Kubrick, John Ford, and Leni Riefenstahl. And still so much more. It's hard to dispute George Lucas' Star Wars being the defining cinematic event of the century. For a generation of moviegoers it was a life-changing spectacle, inspiring the most joy and awe since Georges Méliès at the turn of the century. And if Méliès wowed with magic tricks, Star Wars is pure movie magic: spawned from a lifetime love of the movies, and redoubling that love for adventure and imagination in immeasurable audiences of all ages for decades to come.
It's impossible to fathom how much of a gamble A New Hope was, yet all the cast and crew speak of having had "a good feeling about this" (ha). Now, it's textbook: the quintessential 'hero's journey' slotted into a dangerous, beautiful universe of (still) unprecedentedly jaw-dropping sets, costumes, and practical effects (distasteful, retroactive CGI tweaks be damned), with a gorgeously scrappy, tactile design sensibility unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Throw in more quotable dialogue than Casablanca, a plot too exciting not to bounce in your seat for, with the editing hyperdrive exploding from each plot point, character, and lightsaber clash to the next at light speed, and we're blissfully, jubilantly swept away.
Lucas's true wisdom lies in his committing so passionately to the science-fiction genre (previously largely wasted in clunky kids' serials), fleshing it out with enough stock mythology for children of all ages to dive into, while leaving enough mystery to let their imaginations do the rest. Even Lucas' whim to anchor his space opera on a political revolutionary coup and spirituality debates (his cleverly vague 'Force' is scoffed at as an "ancient religion," but we're all savvy enough to know it's, again, simply magic) gives just enough of a sociopolitical backbone to have all the high- flying sci-fi not feel like a superfluous toy parade. No - this is the grandest of storytelling, undercut with just enough ingenuity and wicked humour (look for the Storm Trooper bumping his head mid-chase) to still feel like an underdog indie movie. Somehow.
We open with a monumental space battle, blending the otherworldly awe of Kubrick's 2001 with enough thrilling gunplay to put 007 to shame (sorry James). Then: that stalking, asthmatic tyrant, striking fear into the hearts of generations. Clearly, nothing would ever be the same. But, after seducing audiences with this triumphant opening, it's easy to forget how weird A New Hope becomes. Suddenly, our shootout has transmogrified into a shambling, nearly silent film full of inanimate droids bantering in a desolate desert, accompanied only by the exuberant whiz-whirr-bleeps of Ben Burtt's peerless sound design and John Williams nonchalantly offering up the single most iconic, elating film score of all time (including a main theme so transcendent no one would ever again hear a major fifth without humming it - sorry, music teachers worldwide). But before you can say "made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs," we've met our sandy-haired hero and his valiant (sometimes scoundrel) companions, and are off to rescue the princess and save the galaxy. We're her only hope, after all.
Nonetheless, starry-eyed with iconography and whistling the Cantina Band jazz, let's not overlook the darkness. If Luke scrutinizing the charred skeletons of his murdered surrogate parents(!) isn't enough, see Princess Leia abducted and tortured before witnessing the genocide of her entire planet(!!). This may be bouncy, kids' wish- fulfillment, but the stakes aren't just high: they're downright scary. When our heroes cheat death, beset by grungy alien attacks, wheezing psychopaths, and the muck of a trash compacter, we genuinely believe they might not survive - and some don't (RIP Porkins). Certainly, there are minor quibbles - Episode IV is easily the most languid of its trilogy, with some lurching editing and omnipresent wooden acting (recalling Harrison Ford's legendary "You can type this sh*t, George !" gripe) - but these somehow only feed into its inextinguishable, pugnacious charm. And by the climactic intergalactic dogfight, we're using the Force too ferociously to keep Luke's x-wing intact long enough to blow up the Death Star to sweat it. Pew pew pew.
Still, it's through the unforgettable characters that Lucas' space opera transcends to masterpiece. Mark Hamill - too gosh-darn bashful and fresh-faced not to adore in spite of his emotionally inexpressive farm boy whining. Harrison Ford - the most suave, charismatic scoundrel in cinema history (though for all his flawless, impishly cocky posturing, it's his flustered yammering over an intercom - "Boring conversation anyway" - that stands out as the film's funniest moment). Carrie Fisher - too gutsy, sparky, and prone to bellowed, hysterically sarcastic banter to ever cave to a damsel in distress stereotype. Alec Guinness - impossibly classy as Lucas' playfully enigmatic Gandalf surrogate - trading barbs with the imposingly debonair Peter Cushing and the godlike booming of James Earl Jones. The amiable nattering of Anthony Daniels, jaunty bleeping of Kenny Baker, and fluffy looming of Peter Mayhew. And a supporting cast of aliens and robots so unfathomably imaginative, you can't help but want to clutch the action figures of even those who pop up in a single, unforgettable shot.
Forty years on, and now the single most lucrative Disney franchise, Lucas' galaxy far, far away continues to change the world as much as it did a long time ago. Whether providing new hope for starry-eyed Padawans waving invisible lightsabers or for veteran Jedi gripping their Bantha dolls, sporting "Han shot first" t-shirts, and watching the title crawl for the thousandth time, there has never been, and never will be, any movie quite as magical as Star Wars. May the Force be with you.
-10/10