star wars

I give the Ewoks cartoon a lot of grief for indulging in continuity for its own sake., but after nine episodes, “Sunstar vs Shadowstone” finally brings us something new – resolution. The backstory of Morag, the Tulgah witch, and why she’s constantly trying to murder all the Ewoks is revealed. Not only that, but Morag’s story comes to a definitively final conclusion. It’s still a bit loose when compared to the ongoing story arc structure of Droids, but it’s a welcome change.

In short, two hundred years ago the Ewoks protected an extremely powerful magical object called the Sunstar Shadowstone. Morag stole it, but Shaman Logray, then in his prime, split the stone in two in his attempt to recover it. Morag kept the evil Shadowstone, while the Ewoks hid and protected the good Sunstar.

Side note: add another item to the long list of Ewok responsibilities. In addition to the day-to-day stressors of living on a moon where every other living thing wants to kill them, they’ve gotta keep their personal soul trees safe; they’ve got to protect the sunberry trees, without which they’ll die; every year they have to make a perilous journey to sprinkle Life Dust on the Tree of Light to keep the weather in check; and on top of all that they’ve got to hide the Sunstar from an evil witch who wants to eradicate them all for stealing it from her, even though she stole it from them in the first place. How did they have time to help the rebels fight the Empire?

Anyway, the kid Ewoks mess everything up as they always do, mostly by being preposterously mean to one another. Seriously, most episodes’ plots are kicked off because one of these rotten kids makes fun of another, who’s then motivated to prove them wrong by doing something colossally stupid. I don’t know why they stay friends. This time it’s Teebo’s turn; he’s signed on to be Logray’s apprentice; the others make fun of him for being bad at magic; he shows off and gets them all captured by Morag.

Logray comes to the rescue, of course, and the kids help defeat Morag and they all learn a Very Important Lesson about something or other. The end result is Logray kills Morag by turning her into stone. Her body collapses into rubble and the newly reunited Sunstar Shadowstone transforms her life force into a heart-shaped tree. It is a surprisingly bad-ass ending for an 80’s children’s cartoon. They don’t shy away from it – Morag is quite clearly dead, dead, dead, and the Ewoks are thrilled.

Honestly, it’s the most Star Wars this show has felt so far. I’ve talked before about how magic is real in this corner of the galaxy far far away, and while you can wave it all away as “the Force,” it never feels like that’s the writers’ intention. Endor’s magic doesn’t work much like the Force as we’ve come to know it – there’s plenty of telekinesis, sure, but there are also magic wands and shape-changing gnomes and invisibility soap. It’s not a mystical force that binds all things; it’s just abracadabra magic. They’re writing a children’s fantasy cartoon, and so magic is real. It doesn’t need any further explanation.

But it’s hard not to see a parallel between the Sunstar vs. the Shadowstone and the light side vs. the dark side. Even the importance of balance in the Force is reflected here, as the Sunstar and the Shadowstone were always meant to be one, keeping each other in check. Morag uses the Shadowstone/dark side, but craves to corrupt the power of the Sunstar/light side. This desire – and the anger, fear, and aggression that come with it, as Yoda warned us – ultimately leads to her destruction. No Force ghost for the unrepentant Tulgah witch, but otherwise it’s as thematically a perfect ending as any proper Star Wars villain could ask for.

Previous: Droids S1E8 – “The Revenge of Kybo Ren” (1985)
Next: Droids S1E9 – “Coby and the Starhunters” (1985)

I like writing stories with large casts of characters, whether it be a novel, a play, or just a comedy sketch. Maybe it’s because I come from a large family, with a lot of siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews. I find the dynamics of large groups inherently interesting, because there are so many possibilities to play with. It’s mathematical, in a way – within the seven kids in my family, for example, there’s a different dynamic between each pair, each trio, each quartet, etc.

Though the genres of my novels shift from series to series, they’re all funny adventures at their heart, and I find comedy and drama more engaging when there are lots of different characters with lots of different points of view bouncing off each other in lots of different combinations. With my latest novel, for instance – Dance Ten; Charisma Three (plug!) – I honestly intended to focus on one main character and change up the supporting cast from book to book, but by the climax I’d given him (minor spoiler) a travelling companion, and as I begin the first draft of the sequel, I’m finding that two characters I meant to be throw-aways might wind up tagging along as well. There’s just so much to be explored when multiple characters get to know one another, and readers get to know them at the same time.

It’s a lot harder, of course, juggling so many characters. If they’re going to be prominent in the story, then they’ve got to have arcs of their own, and keeping all those independent but interconnected plots engaging isn’t easy.

I wouldn’t expect a 1980s Saturday morning cartoon to be capable of, or interested in, that kind of complexity. But somehow, Droids is managing it. It’s built up quite a large supporting cast in this particular arc, and The Revenge of Kybo Ren manages to give all of them something useful to do while also moving all of their individual stories forward. It’s honestly impressive!

We’ve got our stars, of course. I suppose R2-D2 doesn’t get a lot of character development, but he certainly plays a key role in resolving the story, as always. Once again events would have likely proceeded smoother if C-3PO hadn’t been there at all, but he does do some useful things this time and learns a little lesson about making your own luck. (It’s still a Saturday morning cartoon; somebody’s gotta learn a little lesson.)

But then we’ve got our rapidly expanding supporting cast. King Mon Julpa is trying to negotiate peace with warlord chieftain Lord Toda. Toda has a daughter, Princess Gerin, whose abduction by pirate Kybo Ren and subsequent rescue by the entire rest of the cast provides the bulk of our story. (Side note – I’m not sure the daughter of a warlord chieftain is really a princess, but then I guess if the daughter of a senator can be, anyone can be.) But within this by-the-numbers adventure, we’ve got the tension between Julpa and Toda, and the growing romantic subplot between Julpa and Gerin. Also, throw Gerin’s younger brother Coby in there, who doesn’t do all that much here, but his name is in the title of the next episode so I’m considering his appearance here the introduction of yet another major character.

And we must not forget Jessica Meade, whose name I still adore (COME ON she’s a Star Wars character who sounds like you play mixed doubles tennis with her and her banker husband at the club). She leaves our story here – satisfied that she’s helped her friend Julpa secure peace on his planet, she’s ready to return to her freighter business. Her arc is over, but her sudden departure is jarring to Jann Tosh, the droids’ current master. He’s been pretty happy chilling with his friends, being all hunky and heroic when called for, but Jessica reminds him that his goal had been to join the Space Academy. Time to get his story arc moving again! (And since Droids takes place during the height of the Empire, that’s the Imperial Space Academy Jann wants to join, meaning he wants to be either an Imperial officer or a Stormtrooper. I’m hoping the next episode lets me dig a little deeper into that…)

And while the writers’ juggle all this, they also manage to somehow give each one of C-3PO, R2-D2, Jann, Jessica, Toda, Julpa, Julpa’s aide Sollag Den who I haven’t even mentioned, and Gerin herself something productive to do in furthering the rescue plot. (Although this is her first appearance, we get to know Gerin pretty quickly as she joins the ranks of Star Wars princesses who maybe need a little bit of help but after that are perfectly capable of rescuing themselves.) Nobody’s just there; everybody does something. That’s not easy with this many characters, but it’s something I strive for in my own writing and appreciate when I see it done this well.

All this is just to say… if you ever consider bringing Droids back, Disney, give me a shot at the writers’ room. I’m perfect for it.

Previous: Ewoks S1E8 – “The Land of the Gupins” (1985)
Next: Ewoks S1E9 – “Sunstar vs. Shadowstone” (1985)

I give Ewoks a hard time, mostly because I compare it to Droids, which I’m growing to adore. But I have to give credit to “The Land of the Gupins,” the eighth episode of Ewoks, for highlighting its strongest attribute – reminding you that the moon of Endor is filled with all sorts of bizarre and wonderful creatures, most of which want to murder you.

Seriously, the character design of Ewoks is glorious, and in that regard, this episode shines. There are multiple new species crucial to the plot, but also several throw-aways, seen for just a moment in an establishing shot. Each creature is fully realized and no two are alike. The designers must have had so much fun working on this cartoon, and it shows. My favorite are probably the reaps, snake/spider hybrids who capture our heroes in their web. The design is scary, but not too scary for a Saturday morning cartoon. A lot of thought must have went into these monsters that appear in this one scene of this one episode, and then never again.

Unfortunately, this episode also highlights Ewoks weakest attribute, which is its insistence on cramming as much complicated lore as possible into every episode. The Ewoks get a break this time; instead we learn of the political and mythological histories of the Gupins. The Gupins are a race of shape-changers; we’ve met only one of them before, Mring-Mring, in episode 4, “To Save Deej.” He helped Wicket save his dad’s life, and at that point the only explanation we got for this bizarre little man was, “It’s a long story.” Well, four episodes later we finally hear the story and oh, brother, Wicket wasn’t kidding.

I won’t untangle all of the continuity for you – the first seven minutes of this twenty-three minute episode are almost entirely devoted to Gupin exposition. We get all of Mring-Mring’s personal back story, how the Gupin ruling system works, the latest political crisis, their relationship with a neighboring species, a ritual ceremony, the magic box that renews their shapeshifting powers and how its key was stolen… it’s a lot. And just when you think it’s all done and we’re ready to get on with the actual story, they toss an ancient prophecy into the mix.

I write fantasy novels, as you probably know if you’re on this blog. (If not, click that Books link at the top, would you?) A common debate among fantasy authors is about worldbuilding – how much is too much? Some writers create entire books’ worth of details on their worlds, none of it meant to be published, much of it never referenced except in passing, cryptic mentions. Other writers create only as much of the world as they need, and nothing more, leaving themselves room to grow and develop their story without tying themselves to a history they never intend to visit.

I tend to favor the latter, but plenty of authors I admire prefer the former. When done well, extensive worldbuilding can immerse readers in the story and ground it in a sense of reality. When done poorly, it can make the reader wonder why they should care about these details, even confuse them as to what’s important enough to remember and what’s never going to be referred to again. The worst worldbuilding comes when the author ventures too far up their own ass, never to return.

I wouldn’t say Ewoks is quite there… but it’s within smelling distance.

Previous: Droids S1E7 – “The Pirates of Tarnoonga” (1985)
Next: Droids S1E8 – “The Revenge of Kybo Ren” (1985)

Spinning characters off from a franchise in which they play supporting roles into a new vehicle in which they are the leads is tricky, to say the least. C-3PO and R2-D2 are heroes in Star Wars, but they are not THE heroes OF Star Wars, if you see the distinction. While they both certainly have moments where they contribute towards saving the day, imagine just about any dramatic scene with Luke, Leia or Han swapped out for one of the two droids and you’ll see the problem. They’re not the leads; that’s not their function in the story.

But in Droids, of course, they ARE the leads. Sure, there’s a rotating cast of characters who appear to fill the void left by our original human heroes, but 3PO and R2 are the titular stars, and every episode requires them to be at the center of its action and the cause of its resolution.

Despite being the less human of the two, R2’s preexisting characterization slots into this role a bit easier than 3PO’s. R2 was the brave little droid crossing the desert alone to deliver his message and save the princess. 3PO was just along for the ride, complaining all the way. Unfortunately, 3PO necessarily is going to have to carry more of the story because he’s the one who can, you know, talk. You can’t hire Anthony Daniels for your cartoon and then give more dialogue to the beeping booping sound effects machine.

I have a hypothesis that in making slight adjustments to the droids’ narrative functions, Nelvana, the show’s producers, looked to another of their cartoons for inspiration. R2-D2 is, basically, Inspector Gadget. Bear with me.

In this episode, the droids and their friends Jann Tosh and Jessica Meade (god I still love that name – she’s a Star Wars character with a name like someone who works in your office’s finance department) face off against the evil pirate Kybo Ren (no relation). In pursuit of this goal, R2-D2 reveals that hidden in his body are the following: his spinny connector thing with which he can hack any computer; a massive inflatable air cushion to catch clumsy partners falling from great heights; an oxygen mask with internal oxygen supply; a welding torch that somehow works underwater; a propellor on his head that allows him to move through the ocean at incredible speed; and a couple of bath toys in the shape of animals. And that’s just in this episode – across the series he whips out innumerable useful devices never seen before or since.

Unlike the good Inspector, though, R2’s gadgets always work. Which is where my hypothesis breaks down a little, because if he’s Gadget, then C-3PO should really be Penny, Gadget’s niece, who was always the one to really figure out what was going on. But making the pompous golden windbag the brains of their partnership is just a step too far away from his character. So instead R2 gets that role too – he’s Gadget, Penny, and Brain the dog too, all wrapped up in one trash can shaped package.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t leave C-3PO with much to do besides his usual schtick: taunting R2, messing up, and being afraid. He gets to help resolve the central conflict in a couple of episodes, don’t get me wrong; but there are also plenty of episodes like this one, in which he does nothing productive of note, and events probably would have proceeded a lot smoother if he weren’t there. If R2 hadn’t been there, contrariwise, Jann and Jessica would both be dead.

I don’t know the solution. Making C-3PO the Gadget would have helped, but that’s almost as big a stretch as making him the Penny. He’s a protocol droid; having a propellor pop out of his head is a little off-brand. More stories in which his actual skills – translation and diplomacy – proved crucial to the plot was probably the way to go. Whether that’s exciting enough for a Saturday morning kids’ cartoon, I don’t know.

Oh, well. It’s still a fun show, hero’s journey be damned. Go go R2 jet ski!

Previous: Ewoks S1E7 – “The Curse of the Jindas” (1985)
Next: Ewoks S1E8 – “The Land of the Gupins” (1985)

The Jindas are back! The Jindas are Endor’s band of traveling performers, and after their first appearance I had a few choice things to say about how the show presented the life of an artist as, ultimately, a wasteful one, leaving Saturday morning viewers with important lessons about obeying authority and prioritizing work over art. This episode… things get worse.

But first, some insight into Endor’s economy. A non-Ewok merchant, Mooth, owns a general store where the Ewoks take surplus goods to trade. It seems as if they have a barter system that’s in the midst of transitioning to currency-based, as Wicket has something called “monmon seeds” that have a value purely in their trading power rather than in any intrinsic use. (They might as well have just called them “money seeds”.) So don’t worry, American children, the primitive Ewoks will enjoy the fruits of capitalism soon. Be patient!

On the way to Mooth’s store, the Ewoks met the Jindas, who were lazing by a waterfall and invited the Ewoks to join them. The Ewoks told them they might, but only on the way back, reinforcing the artists’ reputation as lazy loafers and repeating the lesson from their previous episode that work comes first, then fun, if there’s time. (Okay, fine, it was probably more important for the Ewoks to gather supplies for the coming winter than to go to the beach. My point still stands.)

On the way back from Mooth’s, the Ewoks get captured by a tribe of plot-points, who imprison them for no apparent reason besides moving the story along. The Jindas show up and rescue our heroes, risking their own lives in the process. At this point, you might be thinking the show doesn’t have such a bad opinion of artists after all.

But then, we learn the tragic origins of the Jindas, and the nature of the curse that plagues them. They used to live happily as feudal vassals (my words, not theirs, but the description is accurate) to a Rock Wizard. They weren’t artists at all – they were farmers, working the Rock Wizard’s land and giving him a portion of their yields in return. One day the Rock Wizard suffered a great pain and blamed the Jindas, so he drove them from the land and cursed them – whenever they stayed in place for too long, giant rocks would chase them until they got on the move again.

The Jindas became great artists not because they wanted to, but because it was the only way they could find to support themselves under this curse of itinerancy. The day is saved by the Ewoks’ burgeoning economic system – the pretty stone that Wicket bought with his monmon seeds turns out to be the Rock Wizard’s lost tooth. With his pain gone, the Wizard frees the Jindas from his curse. They are free to return to their previous lives as serfs, working his land in return for his protection.

And the Jindas all cheer. The end.

The moral, children, is that nobody wants to be a full-time artist. All good-hearted people would naturally do something more productive, if they had a choice. Art’s a hobby. Growing food for your vassal lords, that’s a life.

It is, to say the least, an odd subtext for a cartoon created by, presumably, artists, but that’s corporate entertainment for you. Now get back to work! Those monmon seeds aren’t going to polish themselves!

Previous: Droids S1E6 – “The New King” (1985)
Next: Droids S1E7 – “The Pirates of Tarnoonga” (1985)