Wednesday 19 February 2020

Yoda one that I want

Criticising the creators of a story for getting their own characterisation wrong is not a good idea. It makes you look like a complete idiot. All too often on Twitter we see men (for it is always men) explaining a character and their motivation to the creator of said character, seemingly without thinking, 'Maybe this person knows more about their own character than I do'. Normally the end of that exchange comes about when the critic asks the creator just who they think they are, and the creator points out the name on the cover.

With that now in place, I'm going to criticise George Lucas for the characterisation of one of his own characters and possibly look like a complete idiot.

Yoda has been one of the enduring characters of the Star Wars saga, and not just because when 900 years old you reach, look as good you will not. He's small. He's green. He's wise. He has expressive pointy ears that a Vulcan would look at with envious eyes, were it not completely illogical. He's also got a reputation as a benign, benevolent presence within the Jedi order.

I for one am mystified how this came to pass, because Yoda in the original triology was a very different character. He wasn't defined by his weird syntax in Empire; no, he was best summed up as being a Jedi master taking on Luke's training who carried a vaguely threatening aura. There was very little benevolence about him. In fact, I'd argue that the audience was encouraged to reserve judgement on him. Was he actually helping Luke, or was he a potential enemy? Once we see his motivations are pure, he's still not all benevolence and helpfulness.

Consider this: When Luke Skywalker first arrives on Dagobah, Yoda doesn't reveal who he is. Instead, he is this mischievous elf thing. We can work out from the context that Yoda is judging Luke, working out whether the son of Anakin Skywalker is worth training. He sees someone who is impulsive (not helped by having a blaster pulled on him within about half a nanosecond of unveiling his presence), who has too much in common with his father, and who he even says he feels cannot be taught. This is a long way from the Yoda we see in the prequels.

Also consider this: When Yoda agrees to train Luke - after intervention from Force ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi - there's a distinct sense of underlying threat. He asks Obi-Wan whether Luke will finish what he begins, at which point Luke says he won't fail. That he isn't afraid. Yoda's response? 'You will be. You will be.' The camera shifts back to Luke, who's sitting back, uncertain of Yoda. That's not the response of a benevolent teacher; it's the response of someone much darker. It's almost a threat against Luke. That threat is carried out. Luke is sent into the cave where he faces a dark side version of himself in Darth Vader's armour. Yoda gives him no warning what to expect; in fact, he tells Luke that he won't need his weapons when he sets off to the cave, leaving Luke potentially all the more vulnerable. That scene - for me, one of the best in the entire saga - is open to so much interpretation. Did Luke take the darkness with him by taking the weapons? What would have happened if he'd gone without? Was he really at risk? But in not telling Luke what he faced, Yoda was revealing himself as a potentially threatening figure.

Then there's the bit everyone remembers. You know the bit: sinking X-wing, Luke being a bit whiny and negative, failing to lift it out of the water, and then Yoda showing off. 'I don't believe it,' says Luke in an echo of every child I've ever taught. 'That,' says Yoda, 'is why you failed.' It's inspirational. If you believe, you can achieve. It's something I'm more than happy to put on my own classroom wall as an inspirational quote. The problem is that Yoda has once again shown his own power. That power is so much greater than Luke's, and yet he's sending Luke out to face Darth Vader. It should be said that Yoda is absolutely clear that Luke is nowhere near the end of his training at this point, which is why he says Luke shouldn't go to help at Cloud City - his one actually benevolent move - but it's still something that should make us question Yoda.

So in the original trilogy, Yoda sends us mixed messages. He's something of an enigma. Even if his goals match with the rebels, his methods and deeper motivations are open to debate. He's mischievous, slightly threatening and even slightly arrogant. So why does he become something a far cry from this in the prequels?

We never see that version of Yoda in the prequel trilogy. We see someone who is a patient teacher. We see someone who is child-like and yet wise and calm. There's no threat to him. There's little mischief. The character has gone out of him. There was no reason for him to turn into that character either.

It's been said by more commentators than I care to read that the prequel trilogy is a massive disappointment. People have consistently suggested improvements, but one of the obvious ones is staring us in the face. And if George Lucas had beeen sharp enough, I'm sure he'd have seen it: Yoda should have been different. We see Yoda's stubbornness in Episode I when he withholds his blessing from Obi-Wan's decision to train Anakin, but that's about it. We don't see that threatening side. We don't see a side of him where he would withhold training from someone.

That's another problem. The end of Episode III sees Yoda pretty much declaring Luke and Leia the new hope, so why would he refuse to train him? There are many legitimate reasons why he might have taken the action he did in Empire - testing Luke is the obvious one, with the intention always existing to train him when he showed himself worthy of passing on the torch of hope to a new generation of Jedi - and many of those points make some of my arguments moot points, but none addresses why Yoda was characterised as this incredibly patient teacher with time for all. The big problem is that George Lucas failed to realise what he had created in Yoda.

So how could Yoda have been improved? There are a number of suggestions I'd make. One would be to have made him more arrogant so the doom of the Jedi order was in part down to his hubris. That's implied at times in the novelisations and the expanded universe, but not explored at all in the films. Another could have been to make his teaching techniques closer to his methods in Empire, and they could have pushed Anakin closer to the dark. It makes more sense than the sudden shift that Anakin undergoes in Episode III.

One thing does have to be said, however. The Last Jedi gets an awful lot of unfair stick from certain quarters. I confess myself to be a fan, and my favourite part comes with Yoda. That's because the Yoda in The Last Jedi - Force ghost that he is - is the Yoda from Empire. You're left slightly uncertain about his motivations and his methods as he seems to burn down the first Jedi temple. He's got that mischievous threat back. Although you know he's on the light side, his methods are unorthodox. His wisdom doesn't manifest itself in benign little lessons; his guidance is far more about threat. It's a bit of a stretch to say that Yoda is dangerous, but you can't say that he's absolutely benign.

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