Star Wars, Firefly, and why cowboys matter

So, there's a new Star Wars movie coming out this year, and my main concern about it is the conversation that will inevitably occur around it. Not necessarily about how good it is, or how bad it is, or the speculation about future movies, or whatever. That I can handle. It basically just takes ignoring what everyone else says about it. No, I mean the conversation comparing it to previous movies, and the prequel trilogy specifically. I know it's going to happen, because it always happens. For some reason, people cannot stop talking about how much they dislike the prequel trilogy.

It's actually amazing. Most of the time, if someone doesn't like something, they'll tell you about it, and maybe give you some reasoning for why they don't like it, and if it ever comes up again, they may mention it, but it will be left at that. With the Star Wars prequels, it's completely different.

Each time the prequels are mentioned, no one is ever satisfied with just mentioning that they don't like them. Each time, they must lay out in detail exactly how disappointed they are now, exactly how disappointed they were when they came out, and each and every flaw in each of the movies. They have to go on and on about it. It's as if there's some kind of unwritten rule that each person must talk for at least 30 minutes about their dislike of the prequels whenever they're brought up. I can't count how many people I've talked with, how many online discussions I've had, and how many podcasts I've listened to where this has occurred. I can't get away from it either. In a forum or on a podcast that you would think would have nothing to do with science fiction movies of any kind, it will come up and half the podcast will just be about how bad the prequels are.

I might be okay with it if the movies were really as bad as everyone makes them out to be, but I don't see it. I see three average movies that have some flaws but also have some fun moments. There's nothing deep or overly complex about them, but there isn't supposed to be.

I've also come to the conclusion that the original trilogy can be described the same way: pretty average movies that are fun but not at all complex. Seriously, two sets of movies aren't that different. The stories don't even differ that much. Think about it: the first movie in both trilogies involves a kid from Tatooine who wants to become a Jedi, who follows a Jedi master across the galaxy to do so, and who uses his innate piloting skills and The Force to destroy a spherical space station and save everyone. One of them just has better special effects.

So, if that's the case, if they are basically the same movies, why the hate for the second set of them? What's the major difference between the sets that would cause this huge difference of opinion? It took me a while, many years in fact, to figure it out, but I finally did.

It's cowboys. The prequels don't have any cowboys.

I figured this out after thinking at length about the popularity of the TV show Firefly and its companion movie Serenity. I'm not aware of all of the reasoning behind it being cancelled after only one season, but I figure it may have to do with people not knowing how good it was when it was on the air and coming to a later realization of how good it was. They didn't know that they liked it. The same goes for Star Wars. People don't really know why they like the originals better, but they do. They like the original Star Wars trilogy better for the same reason they like Firefly. It's because of cowboys.

Firefly is basically a western set in the far future. It has all of the same elements you would expect from a good outlaw western story. Seriously, just think of your favorite outlaw western, put it in the future, replace the bad Spanish with bad Chinese, and you have Firefly. There's even a train robbery in the second episode. So, yeah, none of the characters are technically cowboys (although they do transport some cattle in one of the episodes), they're outlaws, but using the term "cowboy" for your basic western sharpshooting smooth talking outlaw type seems easiest.

Still, why does this mean futuristic sci-fi fans would like it? There's no guarantee that someone who likes sci-fi will also like westerns. In fact, it's actually a bit silly to think that anyone would, which is probably why Firefly only lasted one season. It's simple, though. Sci-fi fans already know these characters, and they know they like them, because they watched Star Wars and loved Han Solo. Ask any Star Wars fan who their favorite character is, and a majority of them will probably say Han Solo. In Firefly, nearly every character is Han Solo. You can't lose there.

In the original Star Wars trilogy, it's easy enough to split the main characters up into three groups. Obviously, you have your cowboys (Han, Chewbacca, and Lando), who everyone loves. Sharpshooting, smooth talking, and certainly outlawish. Then, you have your Jedi, who are the vaguely East Asian inspired mystical warriors. They're really just samurai. Of course, for simplicity, we'll call them ninjas, because I prefer to use a more general character cliche name. So, your good guys consist of cowboys and ninjas. Then you have the bad guys, the evil Empire, who are basically Nazis. Emperor Palpatine's rise to power strongly resembles Hitler's, and there must be a reason why all the Imperial officers are white humans while the Rebel Alliance includes several alien species as well as humans of various races. They're Nazis.

So, in the original trilogy, it was Cowboys and Ninjas VS Nazis. A winning combination, right? Right.

Now, in the prequel trilogy, there are only two groups of main characters. There are the Jedi, or the Ninjas, and then there are the Sith. Since the two major Sith lords, Palpatine and Darth Vader, end up leading the Empire, who are the Nazis, I guess I have no other choice to call them Nazi Ninjas. They're Ninjas because they are vaguely East Asian inspired mystical warriors, but they're evil and Nazi-like. So, the prequel trilogy is basically Ninjas VS Nazi-Ninjas.

But there are no cowboys. None. There is no Han Solo character in any of the movies. Sure, Chewbacca shows up, but all of the characters are either Jedi, Sith, comedy relief, politicians, expendable soldiers, or robots. No cowboys. None. All of those groups were in the original trilogy. There's only one group that isn't present in the prequel trilogy, and that's the Cowboys.

Thus, everyone hates them.

What does this mean for the future, then? Just as people didn't realize that they liked Firefly when it was first on the air, and didn't realize why they should have, I don't think people really realize why they don't like the prequels. They don't realize that the lack of cowboys is what's driving it. All the complaints I hear are about whiny Anakin or the stupid love story, when there's plenty of whiny Luke and a stupid love story in the original trilogy. As soon as we realize the cowboy factor, not only can we put a stop to those stupid arguments, but people can stop going on and on about how much they don't like the prequels. Perhaps in those long, drawn out complaints, people are searching for something. They know they don't like them, but they're not quite sure why not. Just say "No Cowboys," and it can be over.

We can also then be sure that as long as there are cowboys in any future Star Wars movies, they will be good.

Calvin and Hobbes, December 30, 1990

Calvin and Hobbes 12.30.90

Click the image to see a larger version.

I think the problem with the future is not only that it keeps turning into the present, but that we all act like Calvin here and expect the future to be better and don't participate in making it better. I understand that there's only so much a six-year-old and tiger can do. I think we all feel as helpless as them sometimes. I certainly do. Hopefully, though, this year can be better, and we can figure out a way to make it so.

Happy New Year, folks.

Cul de Sac, December 31, 2008

Cul de Sac 12.31.08

Click the image to see a larger version.

This isn't a New Year celebration tradition that I've heard of before, but Richard Thompson says he did it when he was a kid. The child inside me thinks that this might be fun to try, because who wouldn't want to try ridiculous things you read in comic strips? The adult inside me, however, thinks it would be far too loud and obnoxious, and that I would certainly be annoyed if someone else was doing it. So I probably won't. Then again, we will have my nieces over for New Year's. Maybe I can get them to do it.

Don't forget to admire the lines on that couch. I mean, look at those lines, people.

Calvin and Hobbes December 30, 1989

Calvin and Hobbes 12.30.89

Click the image to see a larger version.

While we're right in the middle of this decade, I still agree with Calvin here. Sure, we have some amazing technologies, but not nearly as much as we were promised. Calvin was expecting it back in 89, and it's almost 2015 and we still don't have any of that. I mean, at this rate there's no way that we'll have hover boards or power shoe laces by next November.

Anyway, please just sit and admire that first panel for a bit. A simple yet beautiful landscape. I sure hope those don't go away in the future.

Cul de Sac, December 27, 2007

Cul de Sac 12.27.07

Click the image to see a larger version.

Mr. Danders, the guinea pig, is an odd character. He seems to have the ability to speak, and so do certain other animals and things in the Cul de Sac world. I'm not sure if this is merely in the mind of the children or if it's actually occurring, and it's never really explained. I guess it depends on what you want to believe.

Also, I love Richard Thompson's crosshatching. I mean, just look at it!

Cul de Sac, December 28, 2007

Cul de Sac 12.28.07

Richard Thompson, and Cul de Sac, have been a major inspiration for me. I love the writing and the characters, but I'm fascinated by the art. Those lines... I love those lines. It's so messy, but everything is where it should be, and it just looks right. Same with the lettering, which is unlike anything in comic strips. And look at those panel borders! I love Richard Thompson's signature, too. It's what you would expect from someone who draws this way.

I started out the month by posting a number of strips by Winsor McCay, who drew things very precisely, with very straight lines and strict perspectives. While I enjoy looking at that, the messiness of Thompson's drawing just draws me to it. I just enjoy the fact that it can look that way and still look right. There's nothing I would change about it. It doesn't need cleaning up. It's beautiful the way it is.

Calvin and Hobbes, December 26, 1990

Calvin and Hobbes 12.26.90

Click the image to see a larger version.

Just a reminder to send thank-you notes to those who gave you presents for Christmas! Also, please consider this a thank-you note to anyone who gave me Christmas presents. They were very appreciated.

Calvin and Hobbes, December 25, 1993

Calvin and Hobbes 12.25.93

Click the image to see a larger version.

The fact is, no matter how bad they are, most every kid is going to end up on Santa's "Good" list and get at least one present from him on Christmas. I'm sure many a parent has wanted to give their child a lump of coal, but thought better of it because they want them to have a good Christmas. Perhaps that means that Christmas should not only be a time of giving, but also forgiving.

Calvin and Hobbes, December 24, 1989

Calvin and Hobbes 12.24.89

Click the image to see a larger version.

This has always been my favorite Calvin and Hobbes Christmas strip. It evokes all the feelings of Christmas and Christmas Eve, as well as the feeling of friendship, the central element of Calvin and Hobbes. It's also interesting because it's quite different from any other Calvin and Hobbes strip. Instead of a rowdy six-year-old getting into trouble or philosophizing, it's simply a calm scene described in a poem.

Calvin and Hobbes, December 8, 1992

Calvin And Hobbes 12.08.92

Click the image to see a larger version.

When I was a kid, my love of comic strips and desire to be a cartoonist came from reading Calvin and Hobbes. The older I got, the more I appreciated it, and the more ways I was able to appreciate it. The writing and artwork were of a quality that had not been seen in newspapers for many years, and after it ended, it would still be a few years before any comic strip would compare to it, at least in my mind.

One thing that Bill Watterson always did at Christmas season was show the difficulties Calvin always had with Santa Claus. As a six-year-old kid, he obviously believes in Santa, and often writes letters to him, as we see here. He is often troubled by the need to be on Santa's "Good" list, though his only motivation for doing this is to receive more presents. This should give us pause to consider our own actions. Are we being good because we want to be good, or to receive some kind of reward for doing so?