Star Wars on Trial (61 page)

Because when we are children, the world is magic.

Anything is possible, because we haven't learned what is impossible yet. Our ignorance is our bliss. We believe in Santa Claus and fairy princesses and disgruntled Wookiees, and we don't ask for detailed technical explanations. What we want is heroes and monsters and robots, aliens and spaceships and battles against impossible odds. We want to be thrilled; we want to be amazed. We don't want to see the universe as it is; we want to see it as it should be. We want energy cannons in outer space that make cool sounds; we want wise old men to train us in the ways of the Force. We want the good guys to win.

And it's good that children want these things-not for any simplistic moralistic reason, but because all these things stimulate the imagination. Facts stimulate the intellect, and that's a good thing too, but-as Dr. Einstein knows-creativity is a far more rare and precious jewel than intelligence.

Thank you Dr. Einstein. You may step down.

For my next testimony, I would like to call the renowned artistalso from twentieth-century Earth-Pablo Picasso.

Mr. Picasso, can you please give me your opinion on computers?

Thank you. For those of you who don't speak Spanish, he said, "Computers are useless. They can only give you answers." I'd like to point out that Mr. Picasso was widely-sorry, Pablo, is widelyconsidered to be one of the most influential painters of his era. Even though he worked in an entirely different arena, the label "genius" is just as applicable to him as to Dr. Einstein.

Answers are an important and necessary thing. I don't think anyone here-well, possibly that Vogon in the corner-would argue with that. But an answer, any answer, is an ending. Asking a question is a beginning. One is the culmination of a process; the other is the process itself. Which is more important? The destination, or the journey?

One might as well ask whether a parsec is a unit of space or time. The answer, of course, is space ... but when Han Solo famously claims to have made the Kessel Spice Run in "less than twelve parsecs," the children in the audience didn't care that he got it wrong. They were all too busy wishing they had done it, too.

And sometimes, when children grow up, they take their dreams with them. Star Trek, which predates the original Star Wars by a decade or so, is often cited by professionals in the scientific field as the inspiration for their later work. One of the inventors of the cell phone claims he was simply trying to make a communicator-perhaps a member of this generation will wind up creating a lightsaber or a landspeeder.

And if they do, it won't be because as children, they were fascinated by the well-documented, scientifically accurate processes they saw at the movies or on TV It'll be because something touched them, took them away to a place they loved so much they will spend the rest of their lives trying to find a way back.

Yes, Your Honor, I agree. There is something very sad about thatbut there is something noble, too. Chasing the impossible is a heartbreaking task, but it is precisely those people that propel the human race forward. Engineers get behind people and push; dreamers run to the front and pull. And if the path they choose leads off the edge of a cliff, they're always the first ones to hit the bottom.

Thank you, Pablo. You may step down.

Imagination relies on inspiration. Inspiration is when a previous ly unseen connection between two or more facts suddenly becomes clear. That connection is not a linear process; it is not something that can be accomplished by rational thought or straightforward logic. It is intuitive, organic, unpredictable. It requires a great deal of input, an open mind to receive it, and the proper environment to let that information percolate and interact and grow.

Children's minds are open. The games of childhood are just such an environment. And films-and books, and comics, and video games, and TV shows-like Star Wars provide plenty of input.

Some people-yes, I'm looking at you, Counselor-would respond with the GIGO argument: garbage in, garbage out. Fill a kid's head with junk science, and junk science will be all he ever learns. This is absurd. Do we still believe in Santa Claus as adults? Do we still leave teeth under our pillows, hoping to make a quick buck? By the time we reach adulthood we are quite able to distinguish between reality and fantasy, because we have learned the rules.

Science is, by definition, a process of exclusion; it is the method by which we figure out what can't be done. As a useful tool for intelligent beings, it's terrific. As a philosophy, it's not so good.

Please, please, put down your weapons. All I'm saying is that no matter how vital or useful science is, it needs an emotional counterweight; it needs compassion, curiosity, inspiration. It needs imagination. It needs balance.

Perhaps this is the most contradictory yet profound message in the entire trilogy. Anakin Skywalker is the Chosen One, the one who will bring balance to the Force. At the time of his birth, there are many Jedi Knights and only two Sith Lords; thus, it would seem that bringing balance to the Force would consist of slaughtering a whole bunch of Jedi. This is exactly what happens.

Was this a good thing?

Yes.

Because, no matter how nice the Jedi seem, no matter how evil the Sith are, they both represent natural forces. The Jedi are selfless and the Sith selfish; the Jedi champion freedom, the Sith believe in control.

Neither system can be allowed too much power. A free, democratic society can be corrupted by manipulative individuals like the Emperor; a tyrannical dictatorship with all of its power concentrated in an ultimate weapon or despotic ruler can be destroyed by a single skilled pilot or champion. Impose order and you destroy free will; give people unchecked freedom and the system will tear itself apart in bickering and civil war.

The Jedi do not represent science. They represent chaos ... and chaos is necessary for freedom. Chaos is all those things we don't understand but are driven to try. Chaos is imagination; chaos is the new, the unknown, the mystery. Chaos is childhood. No, we don't want to live in world run by children-but we don't want to live in a world without them, either.

The Star Wars universe is like a Zen hoan, an inherently contradictory saying that is not meant to make sense, but rather to stimulate thinking. In closing, I would like to leave you with my favorite koan from Episode III, spoken by the Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi during his climactic battle with his apprentice:

"Only the Sith think in absolutes."

Nothing further, Your Honor....

Don DeBrandt has been accused of authoring The Quicksilver Screen, Steeldriver, Timberjak, V.I. and the Angel novel Shakedown, as well as writing several books under the pseudonym Donn Cortez: The Closer, a thriller, The Man Burns Tonight, a mystery set at Burning Man, and the CSI:Miami novels Cult Following, Riptide, and the upcoming two-part Harm For the Holidays. He does not deny these charges.

THE COURTROOM

DAVID BRIN: Lovely. What fun. And, of course, as you point out, fun is the main point of entertainments such as Star Wars.

And yet...

... and yet, Mr. DeBrandt, are you telling us that a story must either be fun or intelligent?

Let me put it to you that there are counterexamples. Books and tales and movies that both entertain and give a nod or two in the direction of craftsmanship, plotting, consistency and something for the adult in us to chew upon.

Wasn't Raiders of the Lost Ark just such a marvel? Combining rollicking lowbrow fun with remarkable internal consistency and some thrilling glimpses at a few really big ideas? Don't many of us feel that way about The Empire Strikes Back? George Lucas took part in those works. He saw that they were good and beloved. So, could it have hurt to incorporate a little consistency and brains and heart-and maybe a smidgen of maturity-into the other films, as well? What resources were lacking? Money? Time?

Certainly none of those things, which George Lucas had, and plenty. So I submit to you, Mr. DeBrandt, wasn't the missing ingredient something called respect?

DON DEBRANDT: My esteemed colleague misconstrues my point. A story can be fun, or intelligent, or both. Certainly, those stories that manage to incorporate both are of a much higher quality than a story that ignores one in favor of the other.

While there is a single, defining element lacking in the Star Wars movies, it isn't respect. It's a composite of those things you've already mentioned: consistency, brains, heart and maturity.

It's sense.

In order to fully enjoy the spectacle of Star Wars, you must suspend your disbelief. Every mistake, every contradiction, every single piece of information that just doesn't compute interferes with that process. But the universe Lucas has created is so fascinating, so fun, we want to believe; and so, rather than simply ignoring that which doesn't make sense, we put our imaginations and minds in gear, and try to fix it.

In your own words, Mr. Brin: "I care because I passionately believe that important stories ought to make sense." As well you should-and when a story does not, you apply that passion to finding a way to make it make sense. It is precisely that process that is responsible for this very book, and whatever pearls of wisdom are contained within.

When a rational and inquisitive mind is confronted by the engaging yet irrational it often responds in this manner. This process is not usually appreciated by those undergoing it; the most common reaction is a deep irritation.

But isn't that always how pearls are formed?

DROID JUDGE: Mr. Brin, do you have any further witness testimony?

DAVID BRIN: No, Your Honor. Though I want to thank Mr. DeBrandt for a cogent and courteous argument. It's the kind that makes all of this wrangling fun.

DROID JUDGE: Mr. Stover?

MATTHEW WOODRING STOVER: No, Your Honor.

DROIDJUDGE: Then you may each give your closing statements. Please address your comments to the jury. Mr. Brin, you first.