MASTER YODA SAID I SHOULD BE MINDFUL OF THE SPOILERS
In The Phantom Menace, after Qui-Gon Jinn dashes through the forest and crashes into Jar Jar Binks, he suddenly draws his laser sword to protect his Padawan. When Obi-Wan arrives, he is inexplicably drenched. (The result of a deleted scene.) Not five minutes later in the film, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon dive underwater to Otoh Gunga.
In Attack of the Clones, Obi-Wan Kenobi spends quite a bit of his screen time on Kamino, in various stages of sodden. He engages Jango Fett in what is often called the Rumble in the Rain. Imagine how heavy those robes must have felt, soaked.
In Revenge of the Sith, Obi-Wan Kenobi is attacked by Commander Cody and his clone troopers. He falls directly into the water at the bottom of an Utapau sink hole.
In short, Star Wars treats Ewan McGregor like the mayor at a country fair dunking booth.
Which is why watching Ben snorkel towards the Fortress Inquisitorius, adorned with a Jedi breather, sums up the spirit of Part 4 for me. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi playing the Obi-Wan Kenobi hits, giving him a return to form after his scarring defeat at the hands of Darth Vader in Part 3.
When I say return to form, I mean, past, present and future. We see Obi-Wan misdirect the attention of stormtroopers with the Force, as he does in A New Hope. We see him as a spy, darting through passageways as he does on on the Death Star and earlier on Geonosis. We see Obi-Wan Kenobi, Olympic level swimmer, per the prequels. We see Obi-Wan Kenobi fight in the Nick Gillard fighting style, using the trademark flourishes and fighting stances that he employed as a young man. I mean, heck, he even saves the Princess from an Imperial interrogation. This is Obi-Wan doing his Obi-Wan thing.
This serves as a visual bridge between Obi-Wan Kenobi as he was before the Empire and the Ben Kenobi we meet before he becomes disembodied. It’s also a seismic charge to the show’s narrative. This is not a man in hiding. He is not holding his lightsaber as if it’s fragile. This is the knight who will follow Leia into the most dangerous place in the galaxy for a Jedi, ready to give the Imperial forces a glow up.
I also couldn’t help but cheer while watching Ben Kenobi play Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order on Jedi Grandmaster mode and crush it, down to the Purge Troopers and directing fire back to his enemies just like in the game. I was almost expecting a Cal Kestis cameo by the end of it.
The hits are played all over this episode. Princess Leia withstanding the Third Sister’s questioning is a callback/foreshadow (those get mixed up in Star Wars) to how she will handle Grand Moff Tarkin, pretending to crack under the pressure of interrogation, only to immediately lie. You’ve got to love Vivian Lyra Blair’s performance. She’s again switching from near tears to steely resolve, always playing the kid in order to get one over on the adults.
I know the literal reprisal of moments and actions from other films makes some fans clamor for something new and different. (Let’s leave aside how most Star Wars fans actually respond to new and different).
For me, though, this is a part of what makes Star Wars a unique and joyful part of popular culture. Star Wars is constantly cloning itself and quoting itself, remixing its elements, within a framework. It’s more like a mandala than a timeline. Or, if you think referring to it as a ‘mandala’ makes this all seem a little too pretentious? Sometimes, Star Wars is less like a rhyming poem and more like a running gag. Watching Obi-Wan twirl his lightsaber like a gunslinger, which he does in every prequel? Watching him spend more screen time submerged in water? That tells me that this show gets it.
If you think it’s somehow unrealistic or too pat to watch characters repeat their words or actions? To quote themselves? Then you’re missing something cyclical about the world. On a grand scale, we repeat the same arguments, say the same things (i.e. replace ‘woke’ with ‘politically correct.’) On an individual scale, haven’t we all heard ourselves repeat a verbal habit? Haven’t we been a bit too much like our parents? Haven’t we listened to our favorite song when we’re driving? To remember how it felt the first time we heard it? We repeat ourselves. Maybe that’s even how we know that we are ourselves.
We are variations on a theme. That’s probably why my Dad is a regular poster on Serial Squadron and I’m writing this, right now.
There are moments of wild invention in our lives and in storytelling and those are lionized in drama. Rightly so. But the cyclical nature of our battles, our selves, and our lives? That’s worthy of celebration and dramatization, too.
Before I go, an aside about snowspeeders.
Can we all take a moment to ugly cry about the beat up snowspeeders that show up to provide cover at the end of Part 4? X-Wings get all the love but snowspeeders are glorious junk-darts; unsexy flying battle-bricks; they are the Rebel Alliance fighter of choice during the coolest (literally) Star Wars action sequence. They have gotten far too little love in the expanding world of Star Wars. I mean, heck, we got the history of the B-Wing before we saw snowspeeders!
May the Force be with whoever sent me snowspeeders today. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
I like to imagine- given that they cut away before we watched what would have likely been a very non-heroic looking moment of two adults and a child fitting into one Dak-sized space- that someone in some Lucasfilm office was furious about how impossible that would be. I mean, I didn't care, I am along for the ride. But I just want to imagine someone- the kind of person who really gets into the blueprints of the make-believe- bringing a snowspeeder toy and three action figures (perhaps one Snaggletooth or Phantom Menace Anakin sized) to a conference room to just Visualize. That. Point.