The original trilogy of Star Wars films, spearheaded by George Lucas were critical and commercial successes. However, in 1997 Lucas released the “Special Edition” of the films for the trilogy’s 20th anniversary, which featured extensive changes to the original theatrical cuts.
The original cuts have since become scarce. However, a group of Star Wars fans, known as Team Negative One have reportedly almost completely digitally restored the original cuts in 4K using 35-millimeter prints of the original trilogy.
The project is headed by Robert Williams, who along with his team have spent almost a decade restoring the films.
“They’re not really upset that he made the changes, because some of them are pretty cool and actually make the films better. They’re really upset that he didn’t also release the original version alongside it. Just put two discs in the box. We’d have been happy.”
Williams made the above statement to The New York Times, explaining the motivation behind preserving the original cuts of the trilogy. However, the publication also noted that Team Negative One’s activities were not authorized as they worked with film reels meant to be destroyed or returned. Hence, the legality of Team Negative One’s restored versions of the original trilogy is questionable.
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Given Lucas’ strong feelings about the Special Editions, it is evident that the filmmaker would be unhappy with fans trying to preserve the original cuts, which he referred to as “rough drafts” in the past.
According to reports, Lucas allegedly voiced his disappointment with fans demanding a high-resolution release of the original cuts in the following words:
“Grow up. These are my movies, not yours.”
Similarly, when the National Film Registry aimed to preserve 1977’s Star Wars (later retitled Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope), Lucas reportedly refused to provide them with a copy of the original theatrical release.
Lucas stated that he would no longer authorize the original version’s release, reaffirming that he did not intend for the audience to view the theatrical cuts. After Disney acquired the franchise, Lucasfilm President Kathleen Kennedy also stated that Lucas’s changes to the theatrical cuts would remain untouched. Hence, it is safe to say that Lucas would certainly be unhappy with fans still trying to preserve the original cuts.
So, George Lucas is a car guy. American Graffiti is the closest thing to an autobiography he ever made (though it’s not that close), and Tatooine Luke before the sizzle-sizzle smoky barbecue scene is probably a close second. To that end, I’ve always thought that a car-guy metaphor is probably the best way to understand this disconnect George Lucas has with the fans.
Star Wars is his hot rod. It’s the fast little thing he cobbled together in his garage from spare parts and his own sweat. Yes, the guts came off a factory line somewhere. Yes, he may have bought some parts at the store. Yes, he commissioned some bespoke upholstery. In the end, though, it’s his vision, his baby. He merely rolls it out every once in a while for everyone else to see.
Then, he takes it back to the garage. You know, that paintjob wasn’t so great after all. Maybe we could add a removable hardtop instead of it being an open roadster. A new crate engine would make it so much faster and cooler! Then, when it’s ready, he rolls it back out…
…and he’s completely befuddled when people get pissed off. He cannot understand for a single second why the version from the last autoshow, the one with the pinstripes with the wrong shade of red that he let somebody else apply because he was busy, meant something to these people. It’s just his project to tinker with it, and now he has the money and time to do it right, but “right” will change when he feels like he’s come up with something better. Isn’t it cool that he took off those generic tires and added some sweet whitewhalls? And if it isn’t, what does it matter? Go get your own car or ogle somebody else’s. What right do people have to be upset that he made changes, and it’s rude to tell him that they want him the old one back.
Eventually, there are so many people complaining about the new parts and the changes to old parts that he just can’t enjoy taking it out for a spin anymore, so he sells it to the local car museum. It’s sad in its way, but it ignores that fundamental disconnect:
Stories are not fuckin’ cars.
He put art out into the world, art that connected with people at crucial moments in their lives, some of them in very specific and detailed ways. He never viewed himself as a custodian and a guiding hand for the benefit of the audience, but rather as its owner, the one person who had a right to make legitimate changes to the story, even if it already existed and had made a mark on the world. Gene Roddenberry would be an interesting comparison, because while he certainly had some rigid ideas too, they were higher level and not quite so deeply personal.
“I’m putting my vision out for the audience to accept or not,” will result in more personal art, often therefore more interesting, and indeed I don’t think anyone begrudges George the right to make his changes. You give life to something beyond your original intent when you release a work publicly. It’s just the mental disconnect that other people’s experiences don’t matter at all, that rankles. This is especially true when he could indulge those people’s nostalgia passively, because it’s not like the original versions affect the existence of the special editions. That might hurt his feelings though, because if you like the original version better, then you’re implicitly criticizing his more “authentic” vision. It comes off as petty and out of touch.
I was initially unsure of your analogy, ready to disagree. But continued reading to see where you were going.
As a car buff, yea, it’s a great comparison. I really do prefer the original modified version of a car… Sometimes the re-do of a mod is too perfect, lacks something, part of it’s character is gone.
There’s something about the older, imperfect version. Where the shifter didn’t work perfectly, so grabbing third had to be done “just so”.
It leaves room for me, the human element - just like “imperfect” special effects leaves room for human imagination to fill the gaps.
The biggest thing to me is that he just doesn’t realize, or maybe doesn’t accept, that those same little kids who strolled by his car in 1977 formed core memories that are meaningful to them, just as his build process was to him. I would be much more sympathetic to Lucas if it were a car, because it would be the only one.
Even now, Disney would fall all over themselves to find a way to make more money off Star Wars without having to go to the expense of actually making more Star Wars. The only two options here are that holding it back was part of the contract, or it’s part of the soft understanding to maintain goodwill with him. If George Lucas would give his blessing to a restoration project, I have no doubt an official one would proceed. All he has to do is acknowledge that the fans who want the “bad version” love it for their own valid reasons, and it can openly exist alongside his preferred vision.
This is perhaps the best analogy for what he’s doing that I’ve seen. The only thing I could add is that for creative projects like movies (or books, paintings, sculptures, etc.), especially ones you are trying to release and get paid for, at some point you have to stop yourself from making tweaks or adjustments to the product and decide it’s good enough to release, because there will probably always be something you think can be better or you just aren’t sure you’ve chosen the best option. In fact, the longer you look at it, the more likely you are to second guess even correct choices you’ve made because you’ve stared at it for so long.
The other thing a creative person needs to do once it’s released is to let it go. You can’t go back and keep second-guessing yourself. You also can’t look back 20 or 30 years later and think with all the experience you’ve gained in the intervening years or the new tools that are now available you could do it so much better. Accept it for what it is, a product of that era and that stage of your career. And there’s no guarantee that the new tools or experience will actually yield a better product. Sometimes the limitations force us to be more creative and the solutions end up being better than if we had no challenges.
I agree. Whatever analogy works or doesn’t, there is a pretty significant disconnect, and he falls on the worse side of it.
It goes from quirky tinkering that maybe deprives the world of new and good projects (but probably doesn’t, if his heart wouldn’t have been in them), to a weird, anxiety-fueled ego trip lording the power that copyright laws give him over the audience that his (very collaborative, I might add) works found for themselves after he and his colleagues sent them out into the world.