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Well, I've been a registered member on this board for about a year now and I figured that it's about time I create my own topic.
This an essay I wrote for a critical analysis class I'm taking right now which explores the notion of psychoanalysis within the Star Wars universe, specifically with regard to AOTC. I did it in about an hour earlier this morning (drafts are for pussies) and turned it in minutes later (literally) so you may notice some typos or a misquote here and there (or you may not). In any case, I thought you folks might get a kick out of this, so without further delay...
The Burden of Dreams: Freudian Escapades in a Galaxy Far, Far Away…
The hero trembles as the confession leaves his lips, “I’m a Jedi; I know I’m better than this,” and thus the tormented soul of Anakin Skywalker is exposed for all to see. Were it part of any other work of dramatic fiction, this scene of heartbreaking honesty would merely provide insight for a seemingly troubled figure, but because it is placed within the context of the grandest cinematic story ever told, and because the fated avatar uttering these words will become Darth Vader, it carries with it an emotional weight that only a saga which spans across the desolate plains of Tatooine and the crimson skies of Coruscant can engender. While the Star Wars films are generally characterized for their adventures of heroics and derring-do, the latest entries in the series, dubbed the prequels, are more interested with the exploits of the evil that Sith do. Although the forthcoming Episode III: Revenge of the Sith will ultimately prove to be the most significant chapter of this episodic epic in regards to depicting the downward spiral en route to the dark side that awaits young Skywalker, it is the second film, Episode II: Attack of the Clones, which is most vital to understanding the nature of the fall and the psyche of the man.
In order to fully comprehend the need for and importance of psychoanalyzing the character of Anakin Skywalker in Attack of the Clones, one must first look at what George Lucas, the singular creative force throughout the entire series, accomplished in his first storytelling triptych. The films A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi collectively told the story of a young hero in training and the trails he must face on his quest to becoming the classic Campbell-ian hero. Throughout his journey, the boy who would be Jedi, Luke Skywalker, encounters the various mythological archetypes in the guise of Muppets and stoic British thespians with the central figure being the man he must confront in order to attain his status as a hero in the purest mythological sense, Darth Vader. It is in this confrontation that the original cycle of films reveals itself as the story of the hero’s journey with the vanquishing of evil and the balancing of the Force. With the new films, Lucas presents a revisionist’s take on the idea of the all-powerful hero in Anakin Skywalker. One sees in him all the possibilities for unparalleled greatness but when faced with almost the exact same fateful situations that befell his son, he makes all the wrong choices. Anakin is a character at odds with himself, unsure of who he is, and who he is destined to be. Freudian analysis is therefore apt and in some ways necessary in an examination of the hero of the prequels, as the story of Anakin Skywalker is not one that follows the traditional hero’s journey motif, but rather is the tale of how a good person succumbs to fear, anger, and hatred and is engulfed by the fire of evil.
“I had a dream I was a Jedi,” coming from the mouth of a slave boy with little hope of ever achieving his ambition, this declaration is certainly naïve; however, when dreams are all that you can hold onto, perhaps the naiveté of a child is enough to endure the realities of life. Dreams become an important factor in the development of Anakin Skywalker throughout Attack of the Clones, particularly when the subject of his mother is introduced. At one point, Anakin is seen thrashing in bed as visions of his mother circle his head. He is haunted by the thought of what may have become of her since his leaving as a young boy; these dreams manifest themselves as impulses to go back to his home planet and seek her out. When the reality of her situation is discovered, his boyhood dreams become twisted in a moment of rage and bitterness when he reflects on the fact that he was not able to save his own mother’s life, “Someday I will be the most powerful Jedi ever.” For all his Jedi training and servitude, the boy is unable to let go of those he loves.
With this in mind, it is important to note that Padme, his future wife and mother to his children, enters his life at the same time his mother leaves it while he was still a boy on his home planet. There is also a slight age difference between the two with Padme being the oldest. A deep relationship is never formed as it is learned early on in Clones that he has not seen her in ten years. Thus, she never replaces the figure of his mother while he was training to become a Jedi. It is evident then that his attachment to his mother stems not from the classic Oedipus complex, but rather from his history as a slave.
From his work at an intergalactic junkyard, to his tutelage under a Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker has always been subservient to a master. Perhaps it is because he knew no other life before it, he seems to have developed a slave complex, wherein he perpetually finds himself trapped in a subordinate situation. Even when admitting his feelings to the woman he loves, he communicates his feelings in a manner befitting a courtesan, “What can I do? I will do anything that you ask.” His understanding of human needs and desires is skewed because he feels he is expected to constantly serve others. Even the basic notion of love is perverted by this ideal. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot break free and because those in positions of power constantly restrict him, it seems as though he feels that the only true freedom from slavery (and even death) is through the possession of power.
As he holds his mother’s lifeless body in his arms, thoughts of revenge fill his mind, as his id is unleashed upon the men, women, and children of the Sand People settlement that held her captive. The idea of the omni-present Force is not even a factor in this pivotal scene, but rather his id is driven by emotion; fueled by rage and anger over his mother’s death. One is then reminded of a line spoken by Darth Vader’s master in Return of the Jedi as he attempts to seduce Luke, “Given in to your anger.” Unable to temper his emotions, Anakin unknowingly gives himself up to temptations of evil, thus bringing him one step closer to the great fall that is his fate.
“There was no father,” Anakin’s mother recalls the strange circumstances surrounding her son’s birth, “I carried him, gave birth to him, but I can’t explain what happened.” It is understood in Episode I: The Phantom Menace that Anakin was a product of the Force, born of an immaculate conception. Although the father figure factors prominently in the story of the son, Luke, the fact that Anakin’s story does not include a birth father further distances the two characters and also gives Anakin an added dimension of depth and pathos; this is not to say that Anakin is without a father figure or two in his life. In Clones, Anakin clearly has developed a fatherly relationship between two mentors: the man who promised to train Anakin, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Chancellor Palpatine, the man who will ultimately take over his training in the ways of the dark side. Anakin is torn between the two, one he sees as a great leader in Palpatine, and the other he sees as an envious teacher in Kenobi. There is the hint of an Oedipal conflict brewing within Anakin against Obi-Wan, however, the object of his attention is not his mother, nor is it even a person, but rather it is power, “It’s all Obi-Wan’s fault. He’s jealous, he’s holding me back.” Shades of a more accepting variation of Anakin’s slave complex are seen in his relationship with Palpatine. He respects the political leader and is more receptive to his guidance than Obi-Wan’s lectures. The reasons for this are subtle, but present. Palpatine never refers to Anakin as a child or apprentice; he speaks to him as an equal, a trusted confidant. Sadly, it will be this deceptive trust that will ultimately seal Anakin’s fate forever.
When taking into account this Freudian analysis of a kiddie space opera, the question must be asked: What does this accomplish? Film critic Roger Ebert once observed that with the Star Wars films, “…the characters are not themselves--they are us. We are looking out through their eyes, instead of into them.” With the character of Luke, Lucas projected his own heroic dreams and ambitions on a young farm boy destined to be a hero and gave an entire audience an outlet to resolve their own hero complexes. Now, with the prequels and Episode II in particular, Lucas provides the audience with a mirror to reflect upon their own fears and anxieties. In a sense, Attack of the Clones serves as a group psychoanalysis session for the entire globe. By putting the emphasis on the hero-who-becomes-villain, Lucas had created a new myth for a generation that has grown familiar with the old stories of heroism; a myth that is more timely and relevant now than his previous works of Force-fiction ever were.
The id and the Force may seem like strange ideological bedfellows, but through the looking glass of Freudian psychobabble, it is clear that there is a connection that bonds the two through the character of Anakin Skywalker. Lucas lays the groundwork for a serious psychoanalytic discussion of the man. Through explorations of issues with his childhood, father figures, mother and psyche, a certain understanding of who this man who would become the essential incarnation of cinematic evil can be reached. When all is said and done, it is obvious: the path that lead Anakin Skywalker towards evil is a journey that anyone can unfortunately follow because the problems he faces are no different than the ones that many people face in their daily lives; all of which are rooted not in sci-fi concepts or bizarre technology, but in simple human flaws.
...If nothing else, I'm proud of the fact that with this paper, I was finally able to use the words, "Sand People" and "Muppets" in an academic essay.
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