A New Hope: The First Steps Into a Larger World

Welcome to the first part in my exploration of the trilogy structure - viewed through the lens of the original Star Wars trilogy.

This shot will always be so perfect.

The trilogy is one of our most basic structures of storytelling. Since we often understand stories as having three essential components, or acts – a beginning, middle, and end – it only makes sense that drawing those components out into a larger narrative generally leads to a structure of three entries. Of course, there are an innumerable number of ways to understand story structure. I referred to the three-part structure of a story as having three ‘acts,’ but there are also five-act structures, as perfected by William Shakespeare, there are unique looks at structure like Dan Harmon’s 8-act ‘circles,’ and to make it all more complicated there’s a lot of debate as to what an ‘act’ actually is and how can we define an ‘act’ and what does that mean…

And yet the three-act structure, for lack of a better term, remains strong, especially in the ‘trilogy.’ The concept of trilogy storytelling can be drawn back even to Greek plays, and obviously still remains strong to this day. I constantly see discussions as to what the best movie trilogies are. People will suggest the Lord of the Rings, the Dark Knight trilogy, Back to the Future, so on and so forth. You’ll even see thematic trilogies, such as the ‘Cornetto Trilogy’: three movies that aren’t technically related but are all connected through director Edgar Wright and a few core thematic elements. There’s just something satisfying about the trilogy format, something familiar and comforting, and modern culture continues to codify that. The Hobbit movies are films that could have worked effectively as a duology but were squeezed out to form a trilogy to adhere to the cultural code. On the flip side, when adapted to film both the Divergent and the Hunger Games series tried to tack on a fourth movie in order to rake in all the more cash, and this extension led to both franchises dying a slow, undignified death as cultural consensus simply shifted away. There are definitely big franchises that shift away from this structure – I think of Harry Potter and Twilight as popular recent examples – but predominately the trilogy format still holds strong. Even in discussion of the Marvel Cinematic Universe I see talk of which character has the best ‘trilogy,’ despite said characters’ solo films forming their ‘trilogies’ being nigh-incomprehensible when removed from the greater format of the MCU’s story. We like trilogies – and yet we can’t seem to understand them.

For all of Lucas' faults in directing his actors, his visual imagery is stunning. This shot tells you everything you need to know about the world.

In saying this, I return to my earlier comment on the ‘best movie trilogies.’ In all of these discussions, there’s usually a stinker, a sour spot that brings down the trilogy. Often sequels miss the glory of the first addition, though the third installment may bring us back to a mostly-satisfying conclusion, such as the Ocean’s 11 movies or the Indiana Jones trilogy (you heard me, the trilogy). Or, perhaps, the second film elevates the first film, but the third film fails to live up to the hype, as in the case of the Dark Knight trilogy. I’m sure there are cases where the first installment is mediocre, but the other two build on a good core concept to make something memorable. In any case, while we understand that trilogies work, we don’t seem to fully understand why they work, or what they do. In my search for answers, I come to the Original Star Wars trilogy. I come to Star Wars because it is a cultural benchmark, the first true Hollywood blockbuster trilogy, and as such has some effect on everything that follows. I come to Star Wars because Empire Strikes Back has long been uplifted as ‘the’ sequel, whereas Return of the Jedi has long been discarded by more critical fans as an unsatisfying conclusion. In fact, in studying this topic, I have come to believe that Return of the Jedi’s failure to satisfyingly complete the trilogy format continues to cast long shadows on the franchise to this day. But we will get to that. In this series, I intend to work through each installment of the trilogy – A New Hope, the Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi – and examine what they do as a trilogy, and why they work, or perhaps why they don’t work. In the end, I hope to come to some truth about the trilogy format.

The visual language around Darth Vader is also just fantastic in this opening. The imagery of this imposing dark figure amidst a sea of white setting and character design perfectly establishes what kind of villain we're dealing with.

So, with that lengthy introduction out of the way, I come to A New Hope. It was released in 1977 under the original name Star Wars, but I’m going to be referring to it as A New Hope for clarity’s sake. A New Hope, along with Jaws, is often credited with the birth of the Hollywood blockbuster concept; it sold big and left a deep cultural impact. It’s certainly not perfect, nor is it perfectly timeless, as some would have you believe. The costuming feels very 70’s and the dialogue contains the origins of the wordy, clunky, Lucasian dialogue that will come to plague the prequels. Still, the story and the characters are near-universal and continue to resonate to this day. The structure is drenched in Joseph Campbell’s mythos; it’s classic fantasy, classic heroism, classic escapism. It takes its time to set up the key elements – the Death Star plans, the Force, and Luke Skywalker’s role in all of the action – but then builds momentum relentlessly as we are introduced to Han Solo and embark on a mission to defeat the impossibly large Empire and save the day.

Here's your father's lightsaber. Don't use it for anything functional in this movie.

The first thing I want to emphasize with A New Hope is that it is contained. There are a million articles that exist about how Lucas originally planned for nine movies, or maybe six, or maybe twelve – whatever, the point is, however big or small his ambitions, when making A New Hope, Lucas narrowed his vision to only A New Hope. In fact, in watching this movie in a vacuum, there’s really no evidence Lucas planned for sequels at all, save for the perhaps-surprising detail that Darth Vader, one of the main antagonists of the movie, survives the final battle. There are no plot hooks, no J.J. Abrams-style mystery boxes to eke the plot forward. It all begins and ends satisfactorily. One can end A New Hope and step away from the franchise, fulfilled. And it's shocking how uncommon this is becoming. With cinematic universe franchises being all the craze right now, there are countless movies that are too concerned with setting up the next movie that they forget to have an actually satisfying plot. I think of Tom Cruise’s The Mummy, I think of Justice League, I think of Marvel’s weaker outings like Avengers: Age of Ultron. When I first began thinking of this article, Alita: Battle Angel had recently released, with a lot of criticism as to all of its build-up to… no conclusion. To a sequel hook. So, it is important to emphasize this contained aspect of A New Hope as a key to its success. People don’t watch a movie so that they are set up for the next movie, they watch a movie to enjoy the movie they are currently watching. A proper first installment of a trilogy should exist as a satisfying story in its own right.

Alec Guinness commands so much attention through his sheer presence. He elevates every single moment he's on camera.

Now, this point comes in contention when we consider franchises like The Lord of the Rings. After all, Fellowship of the Ring cannot exist in a vacuum apart from the other pieces of the story like A New Hope can. The Lord of the Rings is a complex example in its own right; Tolkien would never have regarded his story as a trilogy, but rather one singular work, yet Peter Jackson has taken clear strides to establish the film adaption of Fellowship as an introduction piece to its two subsequent films. But if we understand this adaption of Fellowship as the first part in a trilogy, how do we reconcile it with this view that the first piece must be contained? I would submit that Peter Jackson’s Fellowship actually is contained – not to the extent that A New Hope is, but it is contained in terms of structure and experience. There is a distinct, satisfying beginning, middle, and end in Jackson’s Fellowship, and Jackson moves certain events from Two Towers into Fellowship in order to better ensure the satisfying nature of the film’s end. Not only that, but the main characters of Fellowship all go through significant character growth, each having a definite beginning, middle, and end of their mini-arcs within their greater character arcs across the trilogy. In and of itself, Fellowship of the Ring is a satisfying experience. It leads directly into a sequel because the narrative demands it, yet remains a singular experience in itself. The presence of a sequel does not stop it from carrying and completing its own arcs. And Fellowship does not rely on you watching future movies in order to create a sense of completeness. I have talked far too long about Fellowship at this point and not about A New Hope, but I do it to emphasize this idea that even while establishing sequels, you can focus on the story at hand and make it its own experience. A New Hope is certainly no less contained than Fellowship is; in fact, something that always surprises me on rewatches is just how tonally mature this film becomes. Going off of the notion of having a distinct beginning, middle, and end, A New Hope takes us on a very mature sort of journey. While it's very much a family-friendly science fantasy adventure, it can't be denied that this movie charges head-on into themes of loss and death. There's a moment in the movie where, all at once, Luke's surrogate family dies, leaving him with nothing to hold on to - and then we cut to Leia, imprisoned by the Empire, about to be tortured. The movie locks you down and says 'you're in for the ride, now.' A few scenes later, our goal destination throughout the film is destroyed. But these dramatic losses only make it all the more cathartic when the climax arrives, and our heroes lay it all on the line to destroy the Death Star.

"What a piece of junk!" might just be the best reveal of a beloved vehicle to date.

So, one thing A New Hope shows us is the importance of containment of experience and story. Another thing I would like to emphasize is the establishment of a world. A New Hope is our first step into a world, and it brings us immediately into the action. The first sequence gives a very clear visual sense of scale, and of who are the villains and who are the protagonists. A New Hope notably popularized the concept of a ‘used future,’ a future that is not shiny and clean like the Flash Gordan serials that inspired Lucas, rather, it is beat-up and dirty, with a clear sense of history and background. A New Hope is not ‘gritty,’ but it is used. And we jump into the events of A New Hope clearly in the middle of a story. We are clued into the story through our main characters as they contemplate with each other. Later, we are introduced with Luke, a character with clear passions but also a clear lack of knowledge, he’s a nobody, the audience surrogate. And as characters discuss matters with him, we learn about the world as Luke learns. As the story develops, we run into characters like Han Solo, who challenge the truths that Luke learns, and thus develop our own understanding of the world. All of the characters we encounter have clear motivations coming from different backgrounds. And many of these characters have clear, defining arcs, and they all have interesting dynamics with each other. A New Hope goes through great lengths to show us a living, breathing world, through its characters and how they view the events around them.

Seriously, this entire cast is just oozing with charisma. What a team.

On that note, I want to talk briefly about the characters. Because something else I love about A New Hope is how clearly defined all of these characters are. I remember someone in a behind-the-scenes doc talking about how everyone in that movie is a potential favourite character. There are those who love the classic arc of Luke Skywalker. Some prefer the gunslinger neutral vibes of Han Solo. Leia Organa, Ben Kenobi, Chewbacca, the droids – the entire cast are immediately classic. They’re all immediately definable and distinct. They rely on a lot of stock archetypes, but they all work, and despite some of the scripting issues, the cast elevates each of their roles to something special. Harrison Ford is immensely charismatic and, again, once he joins the cast everything just sort of falls into place. The dynamic between everyone works perfectly and effortlessly. But it’s not just as if the movie assembles a list of stock characters and throws them together, it gives them all something substantial. Luke rises from nobody farmhand to the hero of the galaxy. Han Solo rises from cocky, self-centered criminal to someone who sticks his neck out for his friends. This is part of the contained nature of the movie, and how clear its structure is. The closest thing A New Hope has to a dangling character thread is the fact that Luke never uses his lightsaber – beyond that, everyone receives satisfying development and direction. The movie gives you a complete and resolved story with these characters, without real expectations of more.

I could write an entire article just about how perfect this battle is. I get goosebumps every single time.

And yet, it leaves us wanting more. And it gives us room for more. Because while Lucas gives us a clearly defined story, the way he’s established the world and characters definitely feels like we’re just setting the groundwork. As if this is a story that can go any direction. Perhaps that’s the ultimate beauty of A New Hope, that it feels so appropriately like a beginning. It’s the first installment of a trilogy we seem to get so rarely these days; not just a self-contained story, but a self-contained story that still invites more. I think of Batman Begins – a perfect Batman story unto itself, but very also clearly setting room for new adventures to come. If you really want to set up a franchise, that’s the way to go. Not by leaving absurd cliffhangers and focusing on unresolved plotlines, but by giving your audience just enough that they long for more.

In the end, A New Hope gives a thrilling conclusion and a bold finale. It is in itself, a satisfying unit, and an introduction to a world. It was a cultural phenomenon and made more than enough to pave the way for a sequel. That sequel would pave the way for a trilogy, and then for many more installments to come. A New Hope is the perfect groundwork for an entire world, and that’s a big part of the reason why it sits so high up on people’s rankings. But where do the following films line up? What do they do with all of the setup A New Hope provides? Join me as I track the rest of the Original Trilogy, leading up the imminent release of Rise of Skywalker. I hope it’ll be fun.

The perfect ending to the perfect beginning.