IF INTO THE NEWSLETTER YOU GO, ONLY SPOILERS WILL YOU FIND
Before I get into this jaw-dropping episode of Obi-Wan Kenobi, I want to address something that is unfortunately related: the situation with Moses Ingram.
As with John Boyega, Kelly Marie Tran, Daisey Ridley and Krystina Arielle, Moses Ingram has faced terrible abuse online because she is a woman and a person of color. Ewan McGregor and Lucasfilm have come out to stand with Ingram and ask fans not to ‘choose to be racist,’ which I was glad to see. It’s good to see the community full-throatedly push back against hate. But there is something missing from the conversation I’d like to add.
Not all racism presents itself as hate. Many who contribute to a culture of racism do so without realizing it. If we only condemn the most hateful speech, we are missing most of the conversation.
Racism in society often looks less like a burning cross and more like a credit score. It looks less like women being told they can’t have leading roles, and more like women being expected to justify having those roles at all. It looks like a raised eyebrow as much as a raised fist.
Take Daisy Ridley, for example. Rey is wonderfully acted and portrayed. She is also a standard protagonist. She has a secret past, she has special powers, she’s smart and brave, she seeks a mentor, grows, learns about herself, and eventually overcomes her greatest fears to defeat the ultimate evil. Rey’s story is compelling but it isn’t surprising.
Somehow, though, a subsection of the fan base became particularly interested in demanding an explanation for Rey. How could she be good at all these things? Where do her powers come from? These fans never watched Han Solo learn to fly, but refused to take anything about Rey on faith. Inconsistencies were not permitted, unexplained excellence was treated with suspicion.
So, much of the sexism directed at Daisy Ridley and the character of Rey did not look like hate, in particular, it looked like skepticism, critique, opinion. Statements made with the barest cover, like “I like Daisy Ridley but Rey is a terrible character” littered the internet like graffitti.
This is how sexism actually presents itself. After a job interview, a woman with an exceptional resume with a lot of ambition will be viewed as difficult, challenging. A man with an exceptional resume and a lot of ambition will be viewed as an up-and-comer, confident. We watched this phenomenon writ large in the 2016 US Presidential election: a man with no political experience was treated as the equal to a woman who had been a Senator and Secretary of State. People didn’t trust Hillary Clinton, even though Donald Trump has written books about the virtues of lying. Many of the people who felt this way would not have identified their bias as hate, per se, but it is bias just the same.
Racism is not just about using racial slurs, it’s a plaque that has been built up in the gums of society. It is making our collective teeth fall out, especially the longer we refuse to floss or brush. The more we deny racism, the worse it gets. The more we misidentify what racism is, the more normalized casual racism becomes.
Racism shows up in small ways that most people don’t even think about. It’s being surprised when a Black man plays classical music. It’s commenting on someone’s hair. It’s treating a riot at the capitol filled with white people who kill police like a protest; and then treating a Black Lives Matter protest against police violence like a riot. It’s asking why Moses Ingram (an Emmy nominated actress who is a graduate of the Yale School of Drama) has her role and not even thinking to ask why Rupert Friend has his.
You don’t have to hate Moses Ingram or Kelly Marie Tran in order to exact a toll on them for having the audacity to participate in Star Wars. You just have to treat them, and yes, their characters, differently than you treat other actors and characters.
You may not realize you’re doing this. Many people don’t. We have built a world of illusion around our biases, because those biases benefit a lot of people. Politicians cultivate our biases to motivate voters and create division; social media companies fail to tamp down on this sort of sentiment because anger and argument creates engagement. That is their business model. (If Twitter had a voice it would say “Let the hate flow through you!”)
If we acknowledge these things, learn about these impulses in ourselves, then we can develop remedies. It requires us to stop typing the first thing that comes to mind and ask ourselves some questions. Am I applying the same standards to this person that I am to others? Am I contributing to a culture of acceptance? Am I being skeptical of the one Black woman in this cast for some reason? Am I providing aid and comfort to the worst element of the fanbase by piling on? If you suspect you may be accidentally contributing, you can stop doing so on purpose.
And please, don’t use your intentions as cover. If you do not intend to hurt someone, and they are hurt, then the failure is yours. We are in the habit of blaming others for being ‘too sensitive.’ What you say, though, is your responsibility. If someone is upset by something that was said, the person who needs to think about their expression is the speaker, not the listener.
(If you’re interested in thinking a little bit more about how racism actually plays out in practice in our lives, I’d encourage you to read this piece by Ta-Nehisi Coates from 2014 called The Case for Reparations. It really made me see things differently. Some of you may know him from his work writing comics. The article lays out the ways in which black wealth was suppressed and stolen with precision.)
Moses Ingram, in her plea for sanity, said “There’s nothing anyone can do to stop this hate.” Think about how awful that kind of feeling must be. The feeling that hate is so ever-present in your life, unavoidable, that you wonder why you even bring it up, what’s the point?
To create a world that is more hopeful than hopeless, we must be willing to look our own hearts and actions, not just judge others. It’s our responsibility to do more than condemn hate or reject it. It’s our responsibility to fight it.
Not as Star Wars fans, but as people.
With that, I come to Part 3 of Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“I am what you made me.”
These are the words we hear in the booming voice of James Earl Jones as Obi-Wan Kenobi confronts his former pupil for the first time since their meeting on Mustafar. I was gobsmacked to see this brought to life on screen. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This is about a big and bold a choice as could possibly have been made. I thought in pure hyperbole and exclamation points as I was watching it unfold.
I also thought, this is wrong.
Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the person responsible for what’s happened to Anakin Skywalker. It was Darth Sidious who transformed Anakin, playing on his fears, gaining his confidence, undermining his connection to his friends, and offering him power he could not learn from a Jedi. In many ways, Obi-Wan Kenobi has never really dueled Anakin Skywalker. By the time Obi-Wan is circling his friend, surrounded by fire, it is already too late.
The physical wounds that Anakin received are horrific. Obi-Wan is the one who swung the blade. The machine, though, in which Anakin is encased? Is a trap designed by the phantom menace who has been trying to ensnare him since their first meeting on Naboo.
Anakin’s anger at Obi-Wan is misplaced. Obi-Wan’s guilt is misplaced. But isn’t this just so human? This is what we do. We blame all the wrong people. We blame ourselves. We blame the victims of crimes for not standing up to stop them in time. We ignore the root causes, like poverty or greed, and blame the victims of those things for failing to avoid their pitfalls. We’re often more disappointed in our friends and allies than we are with the villains in our real life stories.
I think that’s because we believe that villains, be they abuser, bully, or manipulator, cannot be expected to act any differently. We accept villains as if their actions are a force of nature, unchangeable, so we’re harder on those we think should have done more to stop them.
In the end though, the only way to overcome a villain is not to hold his victims accountable, but hold the villain himself accountable. Obi-Wan and Anakin can never resolve their conflict in battle because neither of them is to blame for what is happening to them. It’s only when The Emperor is thrown into the bowels of the Death Star II that either of them will finally find peace.
Which is why, to me, watching this fight felt particularly tragic at this point in their journey. What’s left of Anakin is at the height of his inhuman rage, Obi-Wan is at the height of his mistrust and fear. It’s not awesome to see Obi-Wan Kenobi on fire. It’s hard to watch. The ‘rematch of the century’ is really a reminder of how much these two men have lost.
It’s also noteworthy to see what Obi-Wan’s relationship with Qui-Gon Jinn will eventually provide. When he faces his old friend on the Death Star, he doesn’t fear him because he doesn’t fear death. When we see Obi-Wan in Part 3 of this series? Death seems very real and very permanent to him, and that fear makes him vulnerable.
I don’t want to make it seem like this episode was just pure tragedy, it certainly didn’t feel that way in real time. There is some wonderfully buoyant light provided again by Leia Organa, especially in the beautiful moment where she asks Obi-Wan if he is her real father. It’s precisely the conclusion she might draw (and hope for) given his kindness and secrecy. His response to her is perfect. Ewan McGregor’s work in this series is so incredibly gentle.
And where would we be without the comic relief of stormtroopers. If we’ve learned anything from Mel Brooks and Springtime for Hitler, is the best way to take away fascists’ power is to make them funny.
Part 3, though, comes down to one thing. Hayden Christensen fulfilling his destiny. I found this rampage even more terrifying than the hallway scene in Rogue One. In Rogue One, we see a monster slicing through mortals, an overpowered video game boss. In Obi-Wan Kenobi Part 3, we see what villainy and hate have truly made of Anakin Skywalker.
Darth Vader.
It was also a hell of a thing to see that Vader costume standing in an open, outdoor space. Something I don't think we ever got much of in live action before. Seeing him in that town felt more documentary style, and therefore a lot scarier, than something like that Rogue One scene in a starship hallway.
YES YES YES.