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Polaroids from ‘Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope’
09.05.2018
08:09 am
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Star Wars or Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, to give the film its proper title, is the single most influential, and thus arguably, the most important movie of the past fifty years. Nothing comes close to the cultural, social, and technical impact George Lucas’s sci-fi soap opera has achieved—whether you or I like it or not. It even has its own religion. Its nearest rival is probably Harry Potter or the Avengers franchise, neither of which might ever have made celluloid without the technical advances in special effects pioneered under Lucas’s direction. Whether it’s a good film/film series or not, is entirely another question.

What’s interesting, from a purely sociological point of view, is why such a fantasy epic should hold such sway—perhaps a loss of faith in religion and politics? Humanity’s overweening need for fairy tales and the comforting narrative that all will be well?

When it first opened in 1977, Star Wars looked set to be a flop as most critics hated it. Waspish pipsqueak Pauline Kael said the film was “an assemblage of spare parts” that had “no emotional grip.” Other papers described it as “unexceptional,” “corny, solemn comic-book tropes,” or just “a set of giant baubles maniupated by an infant mind.” The Washington Post was one of the very few papers to recognize the film’s merit. Critic Gary Arnold said Star Wars was ” new classic in a rousing movie tradition: a space swashbuckler.”

... a witty and exhilarating synthesis of themes and cliches from the Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers comics and serials, plus such related but less expected sources as the western, the pirate melodrama, the aerial combat melodrama and the samurai epic.

Lucas worked on his Star Wars’ script for over two years. His original idea was to write a story about the relationship between a father and a son, or rather a father and his twin offspring. It grew and grew, until it became too unwieldy to film. He therefore decided to film the first third of his script as Star Wars Episode VI A New Hope, the other two thirds became episodes V and VI. The film reflects the time and culture of its day. In some respects it’s the last great all-white Boys’ Own adventure movie as the film featured only one female character Princess Leia—an intergalactic damsel in distress—and little diversity—other than James Earl Jones voicing Darth Vader. This imbalance has changed over the years to the point where there is a far more racially diverse cast and female characters taking leading roles.

But Star Wars as it was known on its release in 1977 was where it all began and for good or ill, cinema is still reflecting its influence forty+ years on.
 
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More Polaroids for ‘Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope,’ after the jump…
 

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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09.05.2018
08:09 am
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Polaroids from ‘Return of the Jedi’

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Harrison Ford wanted his character, Han Solo, to die in Return of the Jedi. Screenwriter Lawrence Kasdan agreed. Kasdan thought Solo’s death would freak out the audience and make ‘em appreciate no one was safe. George Lucas nixed the idea. Lucas wanted Return of the Jedi to deliver a huge payload from merchandising and as Ford later explained, “George didn’t think there was any future in dead Han toys.”

Merchandising was certainly one influence in making of Return of the Jedi. Stars Wars merchandise had given Lucas a “Golden Ticket” and he was determined to use it to get everything he wanted. Lucas had ambitions to use this money to fund his dream of an independent studio, Skywalker Ranch. It’s long been discussed by fans as to just how much Lucas changed things to help him achieve his ambitions. Keeping Solo alive was one. Changing the Ewoks from butt-ugly lizards to cutesy teddy bears was another. As were the multiple feel-good endings—something probably inspired by the double-ending of Oscar-winner Chariots of Fire. At one point in its development, Return of the Jedi closed on Luke Skywalker wandering off into the sunset like a war-weary samurai. In another, he turned to the Dark Side after the death of his father Darth Vader. These were a bit too downbeat for Lucas who wanted to make a “kid’s film.”

Aside from the merchandising and “Nub Yub,” Lucas had some far-out suggestions for the film’s director. He originally wanted Steven Spielberg, which is understandable, but then he offered the film to David Lynch and then David Cronenberg which would have been pretty awesome if one or the other had signed-up. They both turned the offer down. It was eventually given to BBC TV director Richard Marquand to helm, as Lucas wanted a safe pair of hands as he thought movie-making really happened in the cutting-room. It’s also been long rumored Marquand didn’t direct all of the film as he had a difficult relationship with the cast.

Return of the Jedi merchandise made Lucas gazillions. It may not be the best of the first three Star Wars movies made but it is a damned sight better than some of those that were made afterward.

As any fule no, during a movie’s production, make-up and wardrobe take Polaroids of cast members in their different costumes and slap to ensure continuity. Here’s a little collection of continuity Polaroids featuring Luke, Han, Princess Leia, and co.
 
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More on-set Polaroids, after the jump…
 

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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04.02.2018
09:08 am
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Space is in the Bass: Meet Constance Demby, High Priestess of Electronica


Constance Demby, “The Electronica High Priestess of Priestesses.”
 
A while back a friend of mine was telling me about a video he had seen of a woman who played music in her apartment using experimental musical equipment. My friend, an experienced and worldly musician, said that it looked as though she might have rigged her apartment with equipment that she had built herself. I was, of course, intrigued, but unfortunately, that’s where the trail of this very interesting sounding woman ended. Until last week that is. The woman in question is Constance Demby and, as it turns out, the “instrument” she was playing in the video was in fact something that she had created called a “Space Bass.” Demby’s massive Space Bass consists of ten-feet of mirrored stainless steel that can produce five octaves of sound via their attached steel and brass rods. According to Demby’s website, a person with the very groovy job title of “Sound Scientist” was able to surmise that the sound waves on the lowest notes of the instrument were approximately thirty feet long.

Born in Oakland, California, Demby’s musical talent was discovered early and by the age of twelve, she had already been studying classical piano for four years. After her family moved to the east coast, the now teenage Demby was personally responsible for creating a jazz ensemble at her high school. She would later enroll in college but would leave sometime in 1960 taking up residence in the bohemian mecca that is (well, was) Greenwich Village. Over the course of the next decade, Demby’s real experimentation with music would flourish. During her time in the Village, she would meet Robert Rutman—a notable and fantastically talented German-born musician who had a particular affinity for idiophones, which are instruments that generate music by way of vibration. Together Rutman and Demby would hold collaborative performances using their unique instruments which would eventually lead them to relocate together to Maine where they formed the completely excellent sounding Central Maine Power Music Company (CMPMC). After about six years of touring and playing live gigs with the various other musicians that were a part of the CMPMC, Demby and Rutman parted ways in the mid-70s.
 

Constance Demby behind the wall of sound that is her “Space Bass.”
 
Demby’s professional accomplishments are vast and include the completion of over a dozen studio albums, Grammy nominations, the creation of her record label, Sound Currents, as well as designing her sonic musical instruments. During her long career, she has been called the “undisputed founder of Symphonic Sacred Spacemusic” and the “Godmother of contemporary classical electronic music.” Demby has collaborated on musical scores with the Dalai Lama, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, and George Lucas. And that’s where Demby’s “Space Bass” comes into higher prominence as Lucas has used the instrument to create atmospheric ruminations which were officially licensed for use in scores by Lucas Films.

More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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09.14.2017
06:45 am
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I’d rather watch George Lucas’ 1966 student film, ‘Freiheit,’ than any of those godawful ‘prequels’
01.08.2014
10:17 am
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George Lucas has managed to fashion one of the strangest careers in all of cinema. First, he created one of the biggest (if not the biggest) movie franchises of all time. Then, he took the legacy of that phenomenon and perverted it beyond all recognition. And as if contaminating the childhoods of a million nerds wasn’t enough, he became highly litigious, threatening to sue anyone who so much as referenced Star Wars in a fan parody—he even tried to sue lobbyists during the Reagan administration over the nickname of the Strategic Defense Initiative missile program! Yes, it’s fair to say that no one quite hates George Lucas as much as Star Wars fans hate George Lucas. The guy seems like kind of a dick.

But in the spirit of goodwill towards men, I think it’s only fair that we go back to a time when Lucas was an idealistic young film student, making movies to actually emotionally engage people. Freiheit is a short Lucas made in 1966, and it’s certainly not something you’d expect from the man who brought us Jar Jar Binks. In less than three minutes, a young man (played by—get this—Randal Kleiser, the future director of Grease) attempts to dash across the border from East to West Germany. He is shot after a near escape, and he dies with a rabble of narrations on freedom.

It’s a student film in every sense of the word—dramatic and heavy-handed, and arguably overly-literal in its messaging. It’s also really impressive. The action shots show amazing instincts. The pacing builds anticipation. The editing is crisp. Even the blue tint to the film gives a cohesion to the cinematography—what would have been a busy setting is now austere and cool. It’s almost enough to make me forgive him. Almost.
 

Posted by Amber Frost
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01.08.2014
10:17 am
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Alec Guinness, a.k.a. Obi-Wan Kenobi, kind of hated ‘Star Wars’
10.13.2013
03:05 pm
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Star Wars may have represented a kick-start for Alec Guinness’ career as well as a wholly unexpected windfall when his share of the gross turned out to be far more lucrative than he had any right to expect. But on the whole, Guinness seemed annoyed by the whole idea of George Lucas’ space opera.

Also, he was kind of terrible at remembering people’s names.

In Alec Guinness: The Authorised Biography,  Piers Paul Read gives readers a glimpse at some correspondence and diaries written by Guinness while Star Wars—later christened Star Wars: A New Hope—was being filmed.

In a letter dated December 22, 1975, Guinness wrote a friend, noting the likelihood of his next movie being “fairy-tale rubbish”:

I have been offered a movie (20th Cent. Fox) which I may accept, if they come up with proper money. London and N. Africa, starting in mid-March. Science fiction—which gives me pause—but it is to be directed by Paul [sic] Lucas who did American Graffiti, which makes me feel I should. Big part. Fairy-tale rubbish but could be interesting perhaps.

 
A few months later, on March 18, 1976, he’s working on Star Wars but not having a very good time. He also has inordinate difficulty remembering Harrison Ford’s name.

Can’t say I’m enjoying the film. … new rubbish dialogue reaches me every other day on wadges of pink paper—and none of it makes my character clear or even bearable. I just think, thankfully, of the lovely bread, which will help me keep going until next April even if Yahoo collapses in a week. … I must off to studio and work with a dwarf (very sweet—and he has to wash in a bidet) and your fellow countrymen Mark Hamill and Tennyson (that can’t be right) Ford. Ellison (?—No!)—well, a rangy, languid young man who is probably intelligent and amusing. But Oh, God, God, they make me feel ninety—and treat me as if I was 106.—Oh, Harrison Ford—ever heard of him?

 
Yahoo was a West End production in which Guinness played Jonathan Swift—as it happens, my parents saw that play; my mother always said it was one of the most powerful pieces of acting she had ever seen.

Then there’s this diary entry from April 16, 1976:

Apart from the money, which should get me comfortably through the year, I regret having embarked on the film. I like them all well enough, but it’s not an acting job, the dialogue, which is lamentable, keeps being changed and only slightly improved, and I find myself old and out of touch with the young.

 
In his memoir A Positively Final Appearance, Guinness tells the following story:

A refurbished Star Wars is on somewhere or everywhere. I have no intention of revisiting any galaxy. I shrivel inside each time it is mentioned. Twenty years ago, when the film was first shown, it had a freshness, also a sense of moral good and fun. Then I began to be uneasy at the influence it might be having. The bad penny first dropped in San Francisco when a sweet-faced boy of twelve told me proudly that he had seen Star Wars over a hundred times. His elegant mother nodded with approval. Looking into the boy’s eyes I thought I detected little star-shells of madness beginning to form and I guessed that one day they would explode.

“I would love you to do something for me,” I said.

“Anything! Anything!” the boy said rapturously.

“You won’t like what I’m going to ask you to do,” I said.

“Anything, sir, anything!”

“Well,” I said, “do you think you could promise never to see Star Wars again?”

He burst into tears. His mother drew himself up to an immense height. “What a dreadful thing to say to a child!” she barked, and dragged the poor kid away. Maybe she was right but I just hope the lad, now in his thirties, is not living in a fantasy world of secondhand, childish banalities.

 
Clearly, Guinness was kind of being a dick here, but I’m pretty much on board with him doing this. I read somewhere that the young boy in question was grateful for Guinness’ “intervention,” but I wasn’t able to verify that.

Allegedly, Guinness was also eager to have the Obi-Wan character killed off to limit his involvement in future Star Wars movies.

Interestingly, Lucas has said nothing but complimentary things about Guinness’ involvement in the project, and, according to the Piers Paul Read biography, Lucas even pushed for the actor to receive 2.25% of the back end rather than the agreed-upon two points. I’m far from Lucas’ biggest fan, but that was a pretty cool thing to do.

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Star Wars dating tips: Luke Skywalker, sex machine
Robotic French Space Disco inspired by Star Wars (1977)

Posted by Martin Schneider
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10.13.2013
03:05 pm
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Some things cannot be unseen: A hairless George Lucas
03.01.2013
11:12 am
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I have no idea why someone would take it upon themselves to create a hairless George Lucas minus his specs, but they have.

For some reason I feel compelled to share it with you.

Below, an oldie but goodie: ‘When David Lynch met George Lucas’ as told by David Lynch.

 
Previously on Dangerous Minds:
21-87: How Arthur Lipsett Influenced George Lucas’s Career
 
Via reddit

Posted by Tara McGinley
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03.01.2013
11:12 am
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Star Wars / Disney mashup image
10.31.2012
10:53 am
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“A New Hope” by Paolo Rivera.
 
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Via Superpunch

Posted by Tara McGinley
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10.31.2012
10:53 am
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21-87: How Arthur Lipsett Influenced George Lucas’s Career

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By the time Montreal-born filmmaker Arthur Lipsett made his nine-and-a-half-minute long dystopian short 21-87 in 1963, he was well-aware of the power of abstract collage film. His short from two years earlier, Very Nice, Very Nice was a dizzying flood of black & white images accompanied by bits of audio he’d collected from the trash cans of the National Film Board while he was working there. And wildly enough, it got nominated for a Best Short Subject Oscar in 1962.

But with 21-87, the then-27-year-old Lipsett was not only using moving images, he was also refining his use of sound. And it got the attention of the young USC film student George Lucas, who’d fallen in love with abstract film while going to Canyon Cinema events in the San Francisco Bay area. 21-87’s random and unsettling visions of humans in a mechanistic society accompanied by bits of strangely therapeutic or metaphysical dialogue, freaky old-time music, and weird sound effects, affected Lucas profoundly, according to Steve Silberman in Wired magazine:

’When George saw 21-87, a lightbulb went off,’ says Walter Murch, who created the densely layered soundscapes in [Lucas’s 1967 student short] THX 1138 and collaborated with Lucas on American Graffiti. ‘One of the things we clearly wanted to do in THX-1138 was to make a film where the sound and the pictures were free-floating. Occasionally, they would link up in a literal way, but there would also be long sections where the two of them would wander off, and it would stretch the audience’s mind to try to figure out the connection.’

Famously, Lucas would later use 21-87 as the number Princess Leia’s cell in Star Wars. But although his success allowed him freedom at the NFB, Lipsett’s psychological problems would lead him to commit suicide in 1986, two weeks before he turned 50.
 

 
After the jump, compare with Lucas’s equally bewildering short Electronic Labyrinth: THX-1138 4EB!
 

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Posted by Ron Nachmann
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07.24.2010
02:02 am
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Walter Murch’s THX 1138

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George Lucas could hardly have been luckier when he secured the talents of the mighty Walter Murch for his first feature film, THX 1138.  Renown for both his sound design and editing chops, Murch’s resume reads as long as it is Coppola-impressive: Godfather I and II, Apocalypse Now, The Conversation.  In that last film in particular, Murch’s wizardry conjures up a sonic landscape that’s as dense and bewildering as Gene Hackman’s San Francisco.

Murch co-authored with Lucas THX 1138, and engineered its complex, way ahead of its time sound design.  You can now hear it for yourself over at Egg City Radio, who’ve assembled a great compilation of THX 1138 audio highlights.  Here’s what AllMovie says about the ‘71 film:

In a 1984-esque white-washed future underground dystopia where sexuality is banned, all humans sport shaved heads and the same shapeless outfits as they go about their work in a mandated state of sedation, listening to exhortations to ?

Posted by Bradley Novicoff
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11.10.2009
01:59 pm
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