"Laugh it up, fuzzball..."

Rating: 6/10 (9 March 2019)

In a 'post-classical' era, films are often quite simplistic - they are driven by high-concepts and childish premises; experiencing them is fragmented by tie-in merchandising and the like. They concentrate on action too much, substituting character psychology. Or so the argument goes in Bordwell & Thompson's 2006 book "Film Art" - whether or not you agree with any of this, there is no questioning Star Wars' role in facilitating it.
"The Empire Strikes Back" was the first sequel to the hugely successful 1977 blockbuster "A New Hope" - picking up where the other left off but, strangely, not really feeling like it does an awful lot to advance what we witnessed other than put its protagonist through a training regime and have his friends chased around space by some villains for 90 minutes. How far have things REALLY been advanced by the time this 1980 effort has finished, beyond a quaint love story and a jarring familial revelation?
The film's opening act takes place on a barren, wintry planet called Hoth. Following the destruction of the Death Star at the end of Episode 4, a weapon capable of destroying a single planet in one foul strike, a military group known as 'the Rebels' retreat in the wake of an Empirical counter-attack, which involves despatching robotic probes to various parts of the galaxy to scout the potential positions. What everyone is fighting for, we still don't know. Later on, during a conversation about mineral mining in a visually impressive city built into the sky, it is inferred the fighting is to do with control of natural resources.
When we first see the series' hero, Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), on the surface of Hoth in a blizzard, he looks a little like an alien in his arctic gear complete with goggles and mouth-scarf - you might say he bears a passing resemblance to the film's villain, Darth Vader, whose jet-black helmet covers his entire face and gives him a similar un-human quality. Skywalker unfurls his coverings, looking far more grizzled than in the first film. We are then lulled into a false sense of security when ally Han Solo (Harrison Ford) confirms over a radio that the 'sensors' are in place. Job done, we conclude - but Luke is ambushed by a snow monster and dragged off to its cave.
Not returning, and with Solo out there looking for him, the base takes the decision to close the main doors as the dark creeps in and the perishing cold become overwhelming. Cleverly, director Irvin Kershner focuses on the pained expression of Princes Leia (Carrie Fisher) as they shut - whose fate does she fear for the most? Luke's escape from the Yeti provides us with a tantalising early look at the power of the lightsaber, which takes the monster's arm clean off - an important detail for a later duel... But why does Luke then LEAVE the safety of the cave as the storm rages? Why did the film have him caught in the first place? Half-dying in the snow, he has a vision of dead friend Obi-wan (Alec Guinness) who tells him to seek "Yoda" on another planet so that he may complete Jedi training, but we know that Obi-wan can appear at any time to tell him this - Luke doesn't need to be on his last legs and think he's hallucinating.
Eventually, one of those enemy probes passes by the base, but the Rebels mysteriously attack it when the plan was to maintain invisibility - why not just let it pass? Cover blown, the Empire attack - but are the Rebels evacuating the base or defending it? We're not sure. Irrespectively, the act ends when the Hoth fight ends - Solo; Leia; Chewbacca and a friendly robot named C3PO leave on Solo's ship whereas Skywalker departs to find Yoda with R2D2.
From here, the film cuts into two halves: Luke's strand is slow, methodical and contemplative as he spends time on a jungle planet with a small green alien learning how to perfect abilities in 'the force', whereas Solo and the gang endure a more causality driven experience as Vader's ship pursues them through asteroid belts; the stomachs of giant worms and cities built into the clouds.
What becomes curious about the film at this stage is that the antagonist, Vader, makes a conscious decision to pursue Skywalker not to kill him, but capture him so that they may join together as villains. In addition to this, an entire passage of the film beds said protagonist down in one place so that he may learn about patience; concentration and being contemplative - hardly things associated with 'post-classical' cinema. By today's standards, this is positively blockbuster revisionism. But surely there is a hole in Skywalker's training: is he not working towards wrecking a revenge on Vader? Isn't this contrary to the force's teachings?
Solo's strand is more simplistic, more familiar to this post-Star Wars era blockbuster school: the bad-guys are chasing the good-guys; there is a meagre romance between Solo and Leia - royalty mingling with common-folk. Amusingly, Kershner uses a recurring gag to do with Solo's ship's power-thrust mechanic failing to roar into action when he needs it, and we grin at the metaphor. Strikingly, very little of any real interest happens on this strand which seems present to keep people amused as the other stuff plays out.
I read and hear of people remarking how much 'darker' the film's tone is, and so it is better than IV, but I would disagree. Tonally, the films seem quite similar - certainly, the characters here are in hairier situations, but so what? It ends on more of a downbeat note, for Skywalker; Solo and even Vader, but does so in order to tee up the next film, not because its ending is in line with any kind of thematic it's exploring. How is one to conclude now, almost 40 years on from the changing of the cinematic guard? "Empire..." is functional, but perhaps undeserved of its status.