Star Wars: Visions Captures a Spirit of Creativity Lost in a Cinematic Universe-Obsessed Era
Photo courtesy of Disney+
Like many properties in the Disney machine, Star Wars feels quite unmoored at the moment. Despite being set in the boundless reaches of space where characters can use faster-than-light travel to dart across the cosmos in seconds, most modern stories in the series seem to occur on or near that overly-familiar dusty planet where a certain adoptive son of moisture farmers was raised.
While there was a time when a wide variety of storytellers fleshed out the future and the past of this world in a vast network of novels and videogames, weaving yarns set thousands of years ago in a distant Republic or focusing on deep space-conquerors propelled by fleshy body horror, these disparate and often very weird tales have been wiped from the canon. In its place is a carefully curated collection of narratives that come across like déjà vu. Almost all of these occur within a few decades of the original trilogy, resulting in the same characters and conflicts propping up again and again, and while a few projects have made great use of these restrictions, such as the outstanding Andor, the vast majority are ultimately dragged down by the weight of what came before.
However, there’s a recent entry in the sci-fi behemoth that brushes off many of these limitations, tapping into the otherworldly strangeness and underlying ideas that accompanied the franchise before its space wizards and funky-looking aliens were so thoroughly cataloged. I’m referring to the animated anthology series Star Wars: Visions, which received its second batch of episodes earlier this year. Made up of 18 short films produced by animation studios from around the world, these one-off tales embody the tenets that make Star Wars interesting—without the unwavering commitment to tip-toeing around existing lore.
Perhaps the most obvious way these shorts distance themselves from the Gordian knot of established material is that the Skywalkers and their buddies are almost entirely absent. Recent films and TV shows have largely been unable to disentangle themselves from these recurring figures, even though many of these characters, particularly Luke, reached the end of their journeys in the original trilogy. No matter how much money they throw at constructing a CGI doppelganger of a young Mark Hamill, these attempts to force this hero into other stories, such as The Mandalorian, will continue to come across as empty fan service because they feel like a cheap tactic to stoke the passions of fans rather than something tied to any semblance of a compelling arc.
By contrast, most of the protagonists in Visions are entirely unaware of Luke at all, largely because they live in times long before or after his quest. For instance, there’s “Aau’s Song,” which focuses on a young girl living in a mining village. While there are some familiar sights, like the Jedi and their kyber crystals, this story is blissfully disconnected from the types of large-scale battles and political discord we’re generally subject to. Its vibrant backdrops and tactile stop-motion animation thoroughly ground this scenic village built into cliff sides, as breathtaking views transport us to this distant corner of the galaxy. On top of being visually impressive, this episode clues us in on the relationship between Aau and her loving but overprotective father, efficiently telling a complete story in under 20 minutes. Although this tale’s presentation and setting are quite different from what we see elsewhere in the series, its underlying arc of a young person feeling trapped by their surroundings and wanting to have a greater purpose elegantly parallels Luke’s quest without explicitly drudging him up.
While “Aau’s Song” reflects the optimism and hope present in this original journey, my personal favorite in the bunch is “Screecher’s Reach,” which cleverly inverts this story. Cartoon Saloon, the Irish studio behind excellent films such as Wolfwalkers, The Breadwinner, and The Secret of Kells, handled this one, which is evident in its dark fairy-tale aesthetic. It begins with an oppressive tableau of child laborers working long hours in a factory, an entire life of difficult work seemingly laid out before them. Daal is one of these kids, and much like Luke, she dreams of ending up anywhere besides here. One day, she convinces her friends to investigate a local haunted cave, an “adventure” that ends with Daal being forced to kill a half-dead hermit wielding a crackling red lightsaber. Horrified at what she’s done, it’s revealed that she was provoked to enter the cave by a Sith master who promised her a new start if she faced this trial.
This episode ingeniously inverts the premise of the original trilogy, hinting that someone like Luke could have easily been manipulated into joining the bad guys (a fact hinted at when Luke says he wants to join the Imperial Academy in A New Hope), provided it meant being freed from a mundane future. We see how this Sith lord takes advantage of our protagonist’s desperation, forcing Daal to kill her previous apprentice in a cruel initiation ritual that would make it impossible to return to her old life. As her new master descends onto this remote planet, her ship is backlit by a golden halo, biblical imagery conveying that, to Daal, this tutelage may as well be a divine gift, even if she’s joining the side we associate with evil. Cartoon Saloon uses powerful imagery to communicate these ideas succinctly, its brutal turn hitting harder due to the abruptness of its conclusion.