Originally published March 21, 1997, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1218
[Editor’s note: Last week, Peter David, writer of stuff, pointed out that there’s a plot concept missing in Star Wars that, as he wrote, “didn’t even exist when the film came out two decades ago.”]
Consider, if you will, the universe of Star Wars.
They have spaceships.
They have faster-than-light drive.
They have blasters.
They have lightsabers.
They have satellites capable of reducing an entire planet to rubble instantly.
They have land speeders. They have All-Terrain Armored Transports (AT-ATs). They have robots in a variety of shapes and sizes, capable of independent thought and action—basically, artificial intelligence. They have laser crossbows. They have cities in the clouds. They have suspended animation capability wherein they can put you to sleep inside carbonite, thaw you out, and you’re none the worse for wear except for the shakes and blurred vision. They have force fields, holographic chess, and high-speed air bikes.
What haven’t they got?
E-mail.
E-mail and the capability of copying a floppy disk.
Think about what the first film hinges upon. Princess Leia has plans to the Death Star that must be conveyed to the rebels. And the only way that she can think of to get it to them is to carry the one existing copy of those plans, by hand, herself, to the rebels.
I mean, c’mon. What the hëll is that all about?
If there’s one thing that we’ve learned, it’s that one of the first things that happens as a result of computerization is that the world gets a whole lot smaller. Communication and dissemination of information becomes the easiest thing in the world.
Which means that the instant that anyone outside of the Empire’s chain of command got his hands on the plans for the Death Star, that information would be posted all over the place. Within two hours there would have been a Death Star website with a hundred million hits on it.
Now, just for argument’s sake, let’s say that the rebels only had accounts through GOL (Galaxy Online) and, naturally, were not able to access their web servers because the lines were always busy.
That still leaves the question of just what the hëll Leia was doing as the sole possessor of the information. Someone somewhere along the line should have duplicated a hundred—a thousand—copies of it. It’s just a computer file, for crying out loud. Rather than all the eggs being in Leia’s basket, there should have been rebel agents coming from hundreds of different points, each with their very own copy of the Death Star plans. You want inconspicuous people carrying that information—not someone as high-profile as Princess Leia. She’s not Mata Hari or the Shadow, for God’s sake. She’s got challah on the sides of her head and she says stuff like, “I thought I smelled your foul stench the moment I came on board,” with a really bad accent. That tends to get you noticed.
Now, of course, this wasn’t a consideration back in 1977. While George Lucas was busy constructing a universe with the trappings of science fiction and the mythologies of Joseph Campbell, the realities of what technology might actually provide didn’t factor in.
So when you look at the big picture, what it boils down to is: In the real world we’ve progressed, and in the cinema world we’ve regressed. Perhaps, in the final analysis, art does imitate life. It just imitates it in the wrong direction.
As a side note, there’s another “hole” now visible in the Special Edition, but this one doesn’t exist as a result of the passage of time. Although, actually, perhaps it does, because time’s passage has rendered the character of Han Solo significantly un-PC when it comes to the extremely touchy subject of violence.
One of the defining moments of Solo’s character is his violent departure from the Cantina. A rubber-headed alien named Greedo intercepts Solo just as he is preparing to leave. A gun leveled at Solo, Greedo makes it eminently clear that he’s planning to blow a hole in Han for the purpose of pleasing Jabba the Hutt (which, of course, flies in the face of Boba Fett’s contention in The Empire Strikes Back that Han would be no good to him dead, but that’s neither here nor there).
For the past 20 years of video releases and umpteen plays on the USA network and the Sci-Fi Channel, Han Solo shot Greedo before ol’ bug-eyes could plug our favorite Corellian. Greedo slumps forward onto the table, Han apologizes for the mess, end of scene.
Not any more.
It could be argued that Greedo doesn’t intend to pop Solo right there but, instead, bring him to someone else who is going to do it. But that’s a subtle distinction and, besides, the dialogue sure makes it sound as if Greedo’s intention is to do our hero grievous bodily harm. (“Over my dead body,” Solo says, regarding giving up his ship, to which Greedo replies, “That’s the general idea. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”)
A threat of imminent danger, however, is insufficient motive for Han Solo to save his neck. Through the magic of computers, we now see Greedo firing a blaster bolt at Han’s skull. Han, through a slight movement of his head, dodges the bolt and then fires back and kills Greedo.
It used to be that Han Solo was someone you didn’t mess around with. Wave a gun in his face, threaten to do him bodily harm, and he’d pop you. He simply assumed that, if you made it clear you were out to get him, he’d get you first. Period.
Not any more. Now we’re asked to believe that Han Solo adheres to such a demanding standard of fair play that—even though Greedo is threatening him with a blaster from across the table—Solo will sportingly give an enemy a free shot at him before acting to save his skin. And what an opponent Greedo is: He fires at Solo, a relatively stationary target, from a point-blank distance of no more than a meter—and misses. With aim that abysmal, he could probably have gone to work as a Stormtrooper.
Cold-bloodedly killing someone who intended to kill him helped make Han Solo believable as a hard-bitten, tough-as-nails smuggler and “space pirate.” What we have instead is a highly dubious scene featuring a needlessly stupid risk by Solo and stupendously bad shooting by Greedo. I thought the purpose of this computer gimmickry was to make the Star Wars universe more believable, not less.
Perhaps this newly conceived “sporting chance” should be applied to other films. I can’t wait for the re-release of Raiders of the Lost Ark wherein Indiana Jones confronts a swordsman who, thanks to computer enhancement, is waving a scimitar in one hand while cradling a machine gun in the other. He’ll be blasting a path of bullets all around Indy until the intrepid archeologist’s patience wears thin and he shoots the swordsman. It’s a far superior alternative to the current depiction, wherein Jones simply shoots down the inconvenient sword wielder from a comfortable distance of 30 feet.
Special editions. Why did it have to be special editions?
(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to a Second Age Inc., P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705. Next week, and this time we promise: The untold story of the single most important individual in the entire Star Wars legend.)
• 
And fifteen years later, you can still buy “Han Shot First” T-shirts.
That’s cos 15 years later it’s still a šhìŧ change.
As a film lover, I always find it fascinating how so many movies become a time capsule of the period in which they’re made because of the technology that was part of our lives at the time. Just look at all the films of the eighties involving video games, where a couple of characters are playing Pong or Asteroids; suddenly those scenes feel as though they’re trapped in the Stone Age. Or even the advent of cell phones- I can’t help thinking how many old movies would been about half an hour long if made today simply because a major plot point involved a character trying to make a phone call. Nowadays, that character would whip out a cell phone, make the call and everything is done and dusted.
Actually, today the character would whip out his cell phone and say, “Ðámņ, no bars.” I once saw a youtube montage from about 50 movies and TV shows of characters doing exactly that.
We’ve come full circle as a society… back in the 1920’s people would walk around on Friday nights complaining, “Ðámņ, no bars.”
“As a film lover, I always find it fascinating how so many movies become a time capsule of the period in which they’re made because of the technology that was part of our lives at the time.”
Doesn’t that describe every movie ever made?
“Doesn’t that describe every movie ever made?”
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Yes. But I suppose it becomes more evident with science fiction movies, that ostensibly take place in the future or even other planets, but nonetheless reflect the desires and anxieties of the time they were made.
More incredible timing, as this was posted on May the Fourth, and all the Star Wars silliness that ensues today.
Through the magic of computers, we now see Greedo firing a blaster bolt at Han’s skull.
And through the BS of George Lucas’s, we’re now supposed to believe that Han never shot first. Thankfully, such attempts to use the Force – hey, George, wave your hand all you want, we won’t forget – haven’t really extended beyond Lucas’s films and a single instance with Spielberg (E.T.).
Again, for all that Lucas pushes film preservation, he’s such a hypocrite with his own films. Thankfully he hasn’t messed with others’ works.
Indeed, almost two decades ago, I realized one of my favorite episodes of “ST:DS9”, “Necessary Evil” not only had communication technology that was increasingly, seemingly becoming more modern – and not futuristic – before our eyes, but in this episode an extremely important “list” of names is loked for, ON PAPER.
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One could make the argument that the reason they did not have the list e-mailed or whatever is because they were SO important, they did not want to risk them being hacked, etc…but to have all this mystique, personal pain, etc. over a list placed on paper – something that could be destroyed, burned, etc. quite easily is beyond suspension of disbelief.
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Necessary_Evil_%28Star_Trek:_Deep_Space_Nine%29
I wonder how plausible it would be for the “no email” aspect of the plot in a world in which everything is controlled by a fascist dictatorship, kinda like how the Chinese government can block sites it doesn’t like. I mean, you can’t have an Internet without computers or servers, right? So what if the Empire controls the manufacture of both? And continuously scans areas under its control for any contraband computers or servers? Might this make it more plausible?
Not really – if the Rebels can manufacture an entire *series* of interstellar-capable fighter starcraft, then manufacturing computers and setting up a separate network is child’s play.
This is, in truth, one of the problems facing SciFi today – obvious extrapolations of technologies we know are possible *TODAY*, most a matter of engineering research and not basic physics – leads us to becoming *GODS* in the not too distant future.
As proof – consider the additive manufacturing techniques already online – rapid prototyping of things via laser resin hardening, laser sintering, inkjet type plastic 3D printing – and consider that you can now make your own RepRap – a 3D printer – that can build a copy of itself, save for the controlling electronics and motors, for just a couple of hundred dollars (and they’re working on the adaptation so it can lay down circuit traces and make its own electronics!)
Imagine a couple of generations of development on *THAT* – and you’re looking at something that can make just about anything you can dream of, just pour dirt and trash in the source hopper. At that point, there’s only two remaining scarcities – energy (which will get solved soon enough) and the attention of others (which will likely end up the only scarcity, long-term!)
But the Rebels didn’t manufacture anything – they bought the starfighters from an existing company (Incom, I think), probably at a really good price, because the Empire was purchasing exclusively from Sienar Systems.
And judging from some of the material released since, especially the Knights of the Old Republic games (which took place some four thousand years before the movies), the “galaxy far, far away” is pretty much technologically stagnant. The improvements in ship design and manufacture over that period seem to be cosmetic, at best, and capabilities of both droids and weapons seem to have gone backwards. Here in the real world, however, we’re improving our technology on a near-logarithmic scale…
(That stagnation in the Star Wars universe is also central to my thesis explaining away Lucas’ “midichlorian” nonsense in the prequels. Short version: somebody a long time ago noticed strong Force users have high midi counts, and assumed that meant midis gave you the Force. Nobody investigated because of the cultural and technological stagnation evident. In fact, they’re parasites, feeding on Force power, and the Sith seem stronger because they cure themselves of midi infestation during training.)
More or less what I’ve thought since 1999, Jonathan.
I didn’t factor in any societal stagnation, I just applied that whole “certain point of view.” Qui-Gon frequently makes references to “the Living Force,” as opposed to most other characters simply referring to “the Force.” I jus figured that the “Living Force” was a particular Jedi philosophical POV that sees the midichlorians as the source of the Force, as opposed to being drawn to Force users. They could still be an indicator of Force potential, basically with more powerful potential serving as a brighter “light” and attracting more “moths.”
–Daryl
What’s funny is that Quigon can send a blood sample to Obiwan across Tatooine in the Phantom Menace, but Leia can’t send the plans.
No problem, sports fans: Leia can travel faster than light, but the e-mail can’t!
Actually, Leia can’t travel faster than light either, because the speed of light is the universal speed limit (and her molecules would decompose long before that limit was reached). Nor could anyone or anything travel in time because the time elements in Einstein’s equations are negative squares, and there’s no such thing as the square root of a negative number, at least in the real world. But, obeying the laws of physics in science fiction prevents us from scooting around to all of these distant, wild places and reduces the plot to a bunch of near-earth activities (like landing on the moon or erecting an energy grid in space).
How capitalistic; how boring!
A gun leveled at Solo, Greedo makes it eminently clear that he’s planning to blow a hole in Han for the purpose of pleasing Jabba the Hutt (which, of course, flies in the face of Boba Fett’s contention in The Empire Strikes Back that Han would be no good to him dead, but that’s neither here nor there).
Actually, the two can be reconciled; in the original flick, Han was into Jabba for one load of Kessel spice, which evidently came to something less than 17,000 creds (as Han was willing to take the commission from Luke and Ben at 15k, but practically started salivating when it went up to 17 – “Two thousand now, and the rest when we get to Alderaan”). Jabba might want the Falcon as recompense, and be willing to ace Han in order to get it, as he seemed to feel the smuggler had lost his nerve and thus become a liability.
By the events of Empire Strikes Back, however, Jabba had become sufficiently incensed at Han’s intransigence to spend far more than the debt amount on sending out interstellar bounty hunters; it’s quite believable that he wouldn’t want Han dead already, because he had plans. (Keep in mind, Jabba is the sort of “crime lord” who tortures robots who fail to live up to his expectations, as seen by R2 in the assignment center. One can only imagine how he deals with things that can’t simply be reprogrammed…)
“If there’s one thing that we’ve learned, it’s that one of the first things that happens as a result of computerization is that the world gets a whole lot smaller.”
The WORLD gets smaller, but we’re talking about a whole galaxy here.
Darth Vader says, “Where are those transmissions you intercepted?” If transmissions can be intercepted that easily, it makes sense to hand deliver them to the rebels rather than risk detection by transmitting them again.
Except then you follow the courier, and the rebel leader gets nickeled by the SEALS anyway.
Well, Leia never seems to be concerned about being followed. “We’re leading the Imperial forces straight to the Rebel base, but it doesn’t matter, as long as we can analyze the Death Star plans, find a weakness, put together an attack plan, stage an assault, and destroy the entire moon-sized space station before they can attack. And they can just move the base to another planet afterwards anyway, so, you know, whatever, leave me alone, I’m a princess.”
The old IT joke is: Never underestimate the bandwidth of a station wagon full of tape. At some point a very large data file is best moved on physical media not transmitted. You can’t move 500 terabytes faster over the internet than shipping the hard drives via next day air.
But then how big are the plans? If they are small enough to transmit, they are small enough to retransmit or copy to everyone on the ship.
Maybe if other rebels had spent 6 months intercepting the 500 part transmission then shipping the whole mess as one file makes sense. But then why did the Empire transmit the plans in the first place?
They repeat the no email issue again in Attack of the Clones. Count Dooku also carries the plans with him at the end of the film.
I like the Chinese firewall analogy, already mentioned, to explain the issue. In both cases, the rebels had the plans and didn’t want to send them across a government controlled network.
If R2D2 can open almost any locked door, I’d think that email hacking in the Star Wars universe would be extremely simple for a dedicated robot.
When the first movie came out, this wasn’t necessarily a plot hole. It wasn’t until the Empire came out that we had any undeniable evidence that real-time interstellar communication existed in Star Wars. In the first movie, there’s nothing that takes place that contradicts the idea that the ships themselves are the fastest method of FTL communication. In such a universe, couriers could easily be how important information moved. Of course, in Empire, the probe droid sends back an interstellar transmission and Vader has a real-time conversation with the Emperor who, we presume, is still in the Capital. This leaves me with only one solution to the email problem: ignore and enjoy the movie. The Big Ðámņ Heroes don’t share Death Star Plans on their Facebook walls. They fight their way through zillions of Stormtroopers to deliver them to the Rebels just hours ahead of the Final Imperial Assault!
“Doesn’t that describe every movie ever made?” Well, yeah, that was sort of my point.
Well, you said “so many movies,” implying that it’s unique to certain movies. Hence, the confusion.
What bothers me is that Han did nothing unethical or immoral in shooting first. He was clearly, without doubt, under the threat of deadly force, and was in the right in getting a shot off: the “stand your ground” defense clearly applies here.
Extra points for misdirection in drawing on the wall with his left hand, drawing Greedo’s attention, while quietly unsnapping and unholstering his weapon with his right.
Particularly annoying is an ST: TNG episode in which Picard is trying to practice with his Ressican flute and is interrupted no less than four times by people who should have communicated by ship’s internal e-mail rather than physically intruding on him, as none of the things they had were of such importance that a personal visit was required.
I’m lost. Why is it important that Han shoot first?
It depends on who you ask. For many, it’s because it makes him less badass if he doesn’t shoot first, and being badass is oddly important to nerds.
For me, it’s just because the “Greedo shoots first” version is a badly edited and nonsensical moment. But as long as I have my DVDs containing the original versions, I don’t really care that this other version exists.
I’m not really obsessed about it, only annoyed that I wasn’t able to find the original versions in DVD here in Brazil, I own a set of the altered ones.
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But more than making Han Solo less badass, it points to a sort of moral “cleaning up” by Lucas, that I find distasteful, like Spielberg replacing the guns in ET THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL and inserting walkie talkies.
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I don’t like this excessive worrying about the dangers of exposing children to “dangerous” imagery. Actually, I don’t like the ever more extreme dicothomy about what is appropriate for kids vs. grown-ups.
The DVDs I own have both the new versions and the original versions as a “bonus” disc, and I’ve never even watched the new versions. Not that I’m particularly opposed to watching them, I just don’t see the point. If I get in the mood to take the time to watch a favorite old movie, I want to watch the favorite old movie, not some revised version.
How either Microsoft, Google, or some other internet company hasn’t noted this article and used it as the basis for an ad campaign(with appreciative renumeration toward the article’s author) has always escaped me.
Another plot hole that’s always bothered me:
1. The Death Star wants to blow up the Rebel Base.
2. The Death Star can’t do this right away because the moon with the Rebel Base isn’t in range yet.
3. This gives the Rebellion time to scramble their ships, bulls-eye a Womp Rat and blow up the whole battle station.
4. The reason the moon with the Rebel Base isn’t in range yet is that the planet Yavin is in the way.
So:
Why doesn’t the Death Star just blow up the planet Yavin, thereby taking out the moon, the Rebels, the only set of plans for the Death Star, *and* the last remnant of the Jedi (even if they didn’t know about that last bit)?
I always assumed that it would just take longer for the the Death Star’s weapon to recharge than it would for them to circle the planet. It’s true that in Jedi the Death Star 2.0 was firing almost continuously, but that doesn’t mean that the earlier model had the same capability.
Raphy
I always assumed that they didn’t blow up Yavin, because Yavin was a gas giant. And that the weapon wouldn’t work on that type of planet for some reason. Too massive maybe?
Or the resultant explosion would have been large enough to seriously damage the Death Star as well, thus making it a really bad idea.
But think of this one: the Falcon had to go to hyperspace to get from Alderan to Yavin. You’re telling me the ENTIRE DEATH STAR can jump to hyperspace? Ok, fine, then why can’t it just FLY AROUND THE ÐÃMN GAS GIANT? We can install a supermassive hyperdrive, but not simple maneuvering engines?
Of course, that inconsistency can be handwaved fairly easily by just pointing to Tarkin’s overconfidence.
To me growing up the original Star Wars was Han Solo’s story, the story of tough guy hardened by a rough life in a cruel universe became the savior of said universe, How he went from the guy who shoots first to the guy who comes back in the nick of time to save Luke from getting his ášš blowed up.
My take on the plans was basically one of surveillance vs deniability. It’s clearly stated that the plans were transmitted to the Princess. The Empire obviously detected and partially intercepted this transmission. Likely, the Rebels (on the Princess’ ship) detected the signal interception and realized the Empire was onto them. They can’t call the source and tell them the transmission was compromised and they have to find some other way to get the plans to Alderan, because the Empire would intercept that call as well and it would confirm the Princess received the transmission, and the Princess is hoping to lie her way out of this. They can’t relay the plans to another courier, same reason. Only option is to make a hard copy, hide it, then memory wipe and bluff. As “fast” as wireless communication is, it is REMARKABLY unsecure. Sometimes, a hard copy is the safest route.
Maybe I’m reaching, but it could be they avoided making loads of copies and blasting them all over the galactic interwebs because they didn’t want to trigger a Death Star arms race. With the plans commonly available any power mad dictator could try building one (or just the laser part, like in the old EU novel Darksabre).
It would be a bit like the Chinese stealing the plans to a new US nuclear bomb and then posting the plans online for countries like Iran to see.
Or maybe the plans were just too big to send as an attachment? 😉
I never had an issue with the plans being couriered; there’re lots of good reasons why, as already enumerated (security, file size; hëll, maybe Trans-Galactic Holophones have a reputation for spotty transmission – certainly the Emperor’s hologram seemed to be of less-than-Memorex quality – and they didn’t want to risk losing some key bit of data; imagine if they got 99.8% of the data, but the 0.2% turned out to be the exhaust port? Or possibly it’s just new, expensive technology that isn’t in much use outside of the Emperor and his minions, with simple codes available for military probes.)
I always figured they used Leia as a courier hoping for some kind of diplomatic immunity, figuring that the average Imperial grunt won’t want to search her security-sealed pouch. Of course, once Vader got on her trail, that kind of went out the window and time to bluff.
I’ve also wanted a hybrid version of original and re-issue, with good stuff like cleaned-up effects, but no bad stuff such as Greedo shooting or Hayden Christensen as a ghost (Why didn’t they also switch out Alec Guiness for Ewan McGregor, or Yoda for a younger Yoda?). Maybe a “Choose your own adventure, I mean version” will be possible in the future…
They have Email – its just monitored by the Empire to ensure that traitors cant leak intel and terrorist scum like Princess leia don’t wind up with the plans to the death star – which is why she downloads her stolen memory stick data to the R2 Unit.