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Greetings, intrepid readers! M. H. Barton here with another blog post on the art and craft of storytelling. It’s Saint Patrick’s Day today, and in honor of the luck of the Irish, we’ll be discussing just that – luck. Specifically, the luckiest of all moments in storytelling where a doomed character is saved seemingly by the will of God - often referred to as a Deus Ex Machina moment. It’s a very powerful writing tool, but absolutely must be done well. If executed properly, it makes a powerful scene nothing short of iconic. If used poorly, it can ruin an entire story, regardless of anything good that comes before or after. To better learn what to do and what not to do, I’ll be ranking, in my opinion, the five worst and five best Deus Ex Machina moments in films. While this is my opinion, I think most of these moments are pretty universally agreed to be good or bad, respectively. Regardless, I think this is an important topic for all writers to understand. With that said, let’s get started!

Number Five Worst – The Wizard of Oz (1939)

Ugh, much as this film is an eternal classic, the final ending was something of a sour note for me. Dorothy is asked what she learned on her journey, answering that there’s no place like home. This alone is a great quote that should have been used to send her home, but the subsequent reveal that the whole movie was a dream? Horrible. Not that it ruined the film as a whole, but it did introduce a trope that has never gone over well. Now, don’t get me wrong. Dream sequences can be a powerful storytelling medium. They can reveal critical information about a character’s personality, thoughts, goals, and fears. But retconning an entire story as a dream, particularly one with a fantasy setting, is a cardinal sin. It’s the sort of lazy cop-out that instantly turns off almost any audience. I honestly can’t think of an instance where this trope was used effectively.

Final takeaway: Better to leave the audience truly questioning if an entire story was a dream than to reveal it really was just a dream.

Number Five Best – Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Man, what a great climax. Indiana Jones and Marion have been captured by the Nazis and lost the Ark of the Covenant in the process. But just as the Nazis prepare to open the Ark, Indy has a moment of realization and warns Marion not to look at the ark, to keep her eyes closed no matter what happens. This ends up being the single factor that spares Indy and Marion from the Nazis’ face-melting fate. What makes this moment so great is how it poetically transforms Indy as a character. Through much of the movie, Indy has professed to be a realist who doesn’t believe in magic, the supernatural, or even religion itself. But early on, Marcus Brody warns Indy about the Ark being different from any other artifact he’s ever gone after. Through his adventure, Indy slowly comes to realize the truth behind Brody’s words. Indy doesn’t have to fully understand the Ark to respect and fear its power, and that gained respect makes his character arc in this film something really special.

Final takeaway: Tying your Deus Ex Machina to a character’s moment of growth can be very effective.

Number Four Worst – The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)

The Great Eagles are a hotly-debated topic among fans of these films. While they are established early on in Fellowship of the Ring, there are still many unanswered questions about them. If they can defeat the Nazgûl, how strong are they? Why did Gandalf only send for them during the final battle against Sauron’s armies? Why not have them assist when the garrison at Minas Tirith came under attack or in the ensuing Battle of the Plennor Fields? If they could save Frodo and Sam from the erupting Mount Doom, why did they not fly on the eagles to get to Mordor? The eagles don’t necessarily impact the outcome of the story itself, which is a positive, but the sheer amount of information we don’t know about them causes us to question why the characters took the path they did.

Final takeaway: Established characters aren’t enough in a Deus Ex Machina. Their actions taken and not taken still have to make sense.

Number Four Best – The Avengers (2012)

This ensemble cast managed to portray a group of surprisingly deep and nuanced characters – Control-freak Tony, good-soldier Steve, high-and-mighty Thor, untrustworthy Natasha, and mind-controlled Clint. Still, the one character the audience questions for the longest time in the story is Bruce Banner. We meet him early, we know he’s the Hulk, but we don’t know how he’s gained control over the Hulk. Natasha asks him this at their first meeting, Tony re-asks later on, but we never get a real answer. At least, not until the Avengers assemble for the Battle of New York. Confronted by an intergalactic army, things look hopeless until Bruce reveals his secret: He’s always angry. No longer suppressing his emotions and pretending they don’t exist, the Hulk now takes over only when Bruce willingly surrenders to his anger. It’s a fantastic moment that evens the playing field for the Avengers and sets the stage for one of the best climactic battles in any superhero film.

Final takeaway: Make the audience constantly ask a question before using the Deus Ex Machina moment to answer it.

Number Three Worst – The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

At first glance, the climax of this story had the chance to be rather effective in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way. When Neo makes a deal with the machines for Zion’s freedom, the leader of the machines is even named Deus Ex Machina. Neo then proceeds with his final battle with Smith, ending with Neo martyring himself and allowing Smith to absorb him. This gives the machines the opening they need to delete every Smith and reboot the Matrix, saving Zion in the process. While well-conceived, the execution of this resolution proved to be too much for most viewers. It was a heady idea that simply got too convoluted and was easily lost amidst the visual spectacle of Neo’s final battle with Smith. A disappointing end to what could have been a truly epic trilogy.

Final takeaway: Be careful not to try and do too much with a Deus Ex Machina moment.

Number Three Best – Jurassic Park (1993)

Steven Spielberg’s classic thriller is a chaotic mashup of intense highs and quiet lows throughout. The action reaches a fever pitch when the deadly Velociraptors corner the surviving humans in the Jurassic Park Visitor Center. Just when all hope seems lost, the humans are rescued by the timely arrival of a most unlikely savior: the same Tyrannosaurus Rex who nearly killed them earlier in the film. Some may think this is just lazy writing, as there was no foreshadowing of this happening, but it fits perfectly with the film’s overarching theme of chaos. Dr. Malcolm talks endlessly about Chaos Theory, and the T-Rex charging in and killing the Raptors at the last moment highlights just how chaotic and dangerous John Hammond has now made the world. It may not be an earned or foreshadowed Deus Ex Machina, but it couldn’t have happened any other way in this universe.

Final takeaway: A Deus Ex Machina that is in line with a story’s overall theme stands a great chance of succeeding.

Number Two Worst – Superman (1978)

Christopher Reeve may be the definitive Superman, but his films had their fair share of plot holes. Chief among them is this Deus Ex Machina moment at the climax of his first outing. After failing to stop both of Lex Luthor’s missiles, Supes tragically discovers Lois Lane dead in the aftermath of the ensuing earthquake. Sick with grief, he begins to encircle the Earth and force it to spin in reverse, turning back time itself. This allows him to save everyone, including Lois, before delivering Lex Luthor to prison. While the previous bad examples of Deus Ex Machina moments had some redeeming qualities, I have no excuse whatsoever for this one. It’s just lazy writing that leaves a gaping plot hole in its wake. If Superman can fly so fast that he can make the Earth spin in reverse, he could’ve flown fast enough to stop both missiles. I have no justification.

Final takeaway: Be careful not to contradict yourself in a Deus Ex Machina moment.

Number Two Best – Toy Story 3 (2010)

Pixar Animation Studios is known for emotional moments, but none is more devastating than the sight of Woody, Buzz Lightyear, and all their friends about to be destroyed in a garbage incinerator. We’ve already seen what we think is the end of the Little Green Men, and the situation the toys find themselves in here is downright hopeless. When asked what they should do, Buzz can only lower his head and hold the hands of his friends. But just as they approach the flames, the Little Green Men swoop in with a crane claw and save everyone. This isn’t just a moment of relief for the audience, but a beautiful moment of poetry, as the Little Green Men using the claw harkens back to their original appearance in the first Toy Story, as well as their catchphrase. What else can I say? This scene will make even the toughest viewer cry.

Final takeaway: A great Deus Ex Machina moment can bring a story and even an entire series full circle.

Number One Worst – Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)

Good lord, this entire movie is one hot mess. It started off poorly, bringing us the inexplicable return of Palpatine, but the final battle pitting Palpatine against Rey and Ben is just as bad. First, Rey and Palpatine channeling the power of every Jedi and every Sith, respectively, makes no sense and has no explanation. Second, Palpatine being killed with his own Force Lightning makes even less sense. He’d been nearly killed in the past by Mace Windu with this exact technique, and a master Sith like Palpatine wouldn’t chance that happening twice. Finally, Ben resurrecting Rey with a fatal amount of Force Healing just puts the cherry on top, as we had zero indication Ben knew about this skill. I could go on and on, but I won’t. Suffice it to say, this was a horrible ending that absolutely ruined the entire sequel trilogy for me and countless others.

Final takeaway: Multiple Deus Ex Machina moments are never good. Lazy writing early breeds lazier writing later. Trust me, I know.

Number One Best – Star Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983)

Now, this is how you do a Deus Ex Machina! If the first six Star Wars films were an opera, Anakin Skywalker would be the tragic hero of the saga, and it all culminates in the fantastic climax of this film. From the moment Luke Skywalker surrenders to the Empire, he’s playing for time. Every move he makes is in an effort to reach his father’s mind and reawaken the latent goodness in Anakin’s heart. Yet Darth Vader professes that it is too late for him. This is the key line. Not only does Vader believe Anakin is gone for good, but even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. Both the Vader and Anakin personalities know that Palpatine is far stronger, meaning opposing him would be futile. Still, Luke persists in his efforts, going so far as to remain defensive in his lightsaber duel with his father and later throwing down his weapon entirely. As Palpatine proceeds to torture and kill Luke with Force Lightning, we can feel the hopelessness. For all his skill, Luke still can’t hope to stand against Emperor Palpatine. But as Luke begs for his father to help him, something finally clicks and Anakin reemerges from the shadows of Darth Vader, killing Palpatine at the cost of his own life. While for us, the movie couldn’t end any other way, remember that audiences back in 1983 didn’t know for sure if Luke would live or die. It was entirely plausible for Luke to die a martyr while Vader and Palpatine are both killed in the ensuing Death Star explosion, ending the Jedi and the Sith for good. George Lucas played on the audience’s doubts and fears perfectly with this masterful climax, and it remains the greatest use of Deus Ex Machina in all of cinema, in my opinion.

Final takeaway: A great Deus Ex Machina moment can have foreshadowing if cleverly hidden within the story.

And that’s going to do it for this blog entry. Hopefully, this ranking helped you in your efforts to handle this most delicate tool in the writing toolbox. Of course, I’d love to know what you thought. Were there any good or bad moments I missed? Feel free to let me know in the comments or reach out directly, especially if you have any ideas or requests for future entries. I’ve got an active running list of ideas, but I’m always open to more. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a like and share this post on social media. And to stay up to date on future blog posts, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter on my website. Until the next story!

Greetings, intrepid readers! M. H. Barton here with another blog post on the art and craft of storytelling. Today, I wanted to look at one of the most famous scenarios given to us by the Star Trek franchise, the Kobayashi Maru exam. The test has been seen and referenced throughout the history of the franchise by many different characters and is often known even by people who aren’t Star Trek fans. It’s a test given to all cadets desiring to command a ship which puts the cadet into a no-win scenario. No cadet has ever succeeded in completing the scenario itself, save for one James Tiberius Kirk. He famously “cheated” by reprogramming the simulation to make it possible to win. But in doing so, did Kirk really pass? That’s the question I want to explore in today’s post. This is simply my opinion as I wax philosophical about this topic, but it should be helpful in understanding how to write a character’s leadership qualities. Anyway, time to explore a part of Star Trek where many have gone before.

To start off, I’ll give a rundown of what the Kobayashi Maru entails. The cadet is given command of a simulated Federation starship with a command crew to assist them. These crew members are usually real officers meant to proctor the exam. The cadet soon receives a distress signal from the ship Kobayashi Maru. The ship states that they have hit a gravitic mine and are completely disabled. Worse, they’ve been stranded in the Neutral Zone between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. Entering the Neutral Zone is a treaty violation that could start a war. However, if the cadet refuses to enter the Neutral Zone, they will face a mutiny from their crew, forcing them to enter anyway. Upon entering the Neutral Zone, the cadet loses contact with the Kobayashi Maru and is immediately attacked by an overwhelming number of enemy ships. No matter what they try – fight, flee, or negotiate – the scenario always ends with the destruction of their ship and the deaths of all crew members.

Different Star Trek characters have taken the Kobayashi Maru exam over the years, and each has approached it differently, revealing key information about their personalities. Saavik’s exam is our first introduction to the scenario, in which she attempts the rescue, tries and fails to contact the Klingons, and finds the ship too damaged to do anything when she then tries to fight. Even her final order to abandon ship was useless, per Admiral Kirk, as the Klingons would have shot down the escape pods without hesitation. Saavik’s experience with the exam is probably the most famous and quintessential version, being the original iteration. But she isn’t the only character whose experiences we’ve learned about.

We learn more about the crew of the original Enterprise and their experiences with the scenario in Julia Ecklar’s pocket novel, The Kobayashi Maru. When Chekov faces the exam, he attempts the rescue, but immediately orders the crew to escape when the Klingons appear. He himself remains behind to self-destruct the ship, an action that still kills the escaping crew. On the other hand, Sulu faces the exam with ironclad resolve to not violate the Neutral Zone, resulting in a mutiny from his crew. Scotty takes a novel approach, using his engineering skills to abuse mechanics specific to the simulation and last longer than any cadet ever had. Nonetheless, he knew such tactics would have been useless in real life and is deemed unfit for command. Scotty had planned this as a way to be reassigned to an engineering track despite his family’s wishes for him to be a starship captain. Spock had never faced the Kobayashi Maru scenario but retorted that his actions at the end of Wrath of Khan qualified as his solution to the no-win situation.

But what of the original protagonist, Captain Kirk? After trying and failing the scenario twice, Kirk’s need for victory motivates him to try a third time. This time, however, he hacks the simulation and reprograms it to make the Klingons think he’s a famous and skillful starship captain, resulting in their surrender and pledge to help rescue the Kobayashi Maru. In the original setting, Kirk was commended for his original thinking on the scenario, but in the alternate reality of 2009’s Star Trek film, he was brought before a disciplinary hearing for his actions. This difference presents some confusion as to Starfleet’s views on Kirk’s solution. Did Kirk cheat or not? It’s hard to say, but I honestly think it’s irrelevant. Instead, I wonder if Kirk should be considered to have passed the exam at all.

As someone who has used video game cheat codes in the past, it is my opinion that Kirk failed the Kobayashi Maru scenario. Sure, it was fun to be able to kill boss enemies in one hit, but after seeing the ending, it’s not like I felt any sense of accomplishment. I hadn’t beaten the game. I had only forced my way past tough situations in order to see the ending. Granted, none of these were truly unwinnable scenarios, but I think the analogy still applies. Real gamers should feel that witnessing the ending of a game is a reward for their time and hard work. That’s why, as I grew older, I only ever used cheat codes to help with tedious, time-consuming tasks, rather than breaking the natural game progression. On the rare occasions that I did use more game-breaking cheat codes, I only did so on games I had already beaten to see how things were different. It was an experiment, nothing more.

In the same way, Kirk misses the point of the Kobayashi Maru scenario. If one looks at it like a video game, then Kirk had already seen the true ending of the game twice before deciding he couldn’t accept that ending. He hacked the game and changed the ending to what he wanted. Good for him. But the ending wasn’t the point. The unwinnable scenario isn’t testing you by results, as the results are always the same. Instead, it’s testing your decisions leading up to the results and your reactions afterward. Kirk was so obsessed with winning that he forgot to actually play the game. Should he have felt mad at an unfair exam? Sure. Absolutely. But that’s part of the job he’s signing up for. He can boast that he doesn’t believe in unwinnable scenarios all he wants, but that doesn’t stop such scenarios from rearing their ugly heads in life, especially as a Starfleet captain.

Talking about the Kobayashi Maru scenario reminds me of another no-win scenario from the film National Treasure: Book of Secrets. I’m sure you all know of the Indiana Jones-esque adventures from these movies, but the worst scenario of all comes at the final climax of Book of Secrets. As the characters make their escape, Mitch Wilkinson realizes the room just before exiting the ancient temple of Cibola is a death trap. The exit can only be opened by a crank far enough away that the operator of the crank can’t get to the door before it closes. Worse, the room fills with water while the door is closed, while the room beyond fills with water while the door is open. While protagonist Ben Gates continues to try and find a way to save everyone, Wilkinson states the simple fact: It’s not a puzzle, it’s a choice. An unwinnable situation.

That’s the essence of the Kobayashi Maru that Kirk missed. It’s a choice, not a puzzle. Choose the least bad of several awful choices and be able to accept the consequences, horrific as they may be. It is often argued that Kirk’s refusal to accept the unwinnable scenario is one of the traits that make him a strong leader, but I disagree. I think it’s what holds him back. Kirk is a great captain, make no mistake, but I would not rank him as an elite leader in the Star Trek franchise. He’s brash and cavalier, sometimes creating problems he then has to find ways out of. His approach to the Kobayashi Maru has certainly defined what it is that makes him tick, but it also prevents him from rising to the level of Picard or Spock, for example. Maybe having to witness Spock’s death after their battle with Khan served as Kirk’s true Kobayashi Maru, forcing him into a horrible scenario he has no control over. If so, perhaps too much emphasis is placed on the Kobayashi Maru, to begin with. Regardless, even as Kirk grew later in his career, his efforts to win the Kobayashi Maru made it his biggest failure in my mind.

So, what can we take away from these ramblings for our own writings? I think one of the best takeaways is that training simulations are wonderful ways to peel back the layers of a character, but they can only go so far. To truly reveal who our characters are and push them to grow into who we want them to be, we have to put them in real scenarios with real stakes. Those real scenarios were what it took for Kirk to finally grow. Anyone can say they know what they’d do in a given scenario, but things get real in a big-time hurry when lives are on the line in the heat of battle. Those fires are how we can hone our characters' personality traits into more iconic and defining characteristics. Use training scenes well, but always follow them up with real-world experience. Your story will be all the better for it.

And that’s going to do it for this short blog entry. I hope my nerdy musings were helpful and interesting. Maybe they’ll help you along your own writing journey. Of course, I’d love to hear what you think. Am I just a dumb Kirk hater? Or did I make a few good points in my ramblings? Feel free to let me know in the comments or reach out directly, especially if you have any ideas or requests for future entries. I’ve got an active running list of ideas, but I’m always open to more. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a like and share this post on social media. And to stay up to date on future blog posts, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter on my website. Until the next story!

Greetings, intrepid readers! M. H. Barton here with another blog on the art and craft of storytelling. Valentine’s Day was earlier this week, so I thought it was the perfect time to explore some of the most iconic romantic couples in film. I had intended to break this into two blogs, one on couples and the other on love stories, but the lists ended up basically the same. Anyway, I’ll be examining these couples and what makes their characterization and relationship so ionic. At the end of each entry, I’ll note their relationship’s best quality that a writer should take away for their own efforts. Of course, this is all highly subjective, so please don’t flame my opinion. With that said, let’s get started!

Number Ten – Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Romance isn’t a central theme of most Marvel films, being more focused on typical superhero tropes of stakes and personal growth. Still, the bond between Steve and Peggy stands as one of the cornerstones that brought the Infinity Saga to its truly amazing conclusion. Their chemistry in Captain America: The First Avenger is one of the best parts of that film, and though their interactions are limited after that, Peggy remains the one constant in Steve’s life. She’s his guiding light, his true north. He may have tried to move on in the modern day with Peggy’s niece, Sharon (ew), but Endgame showed that it always comes back to Peggy. Seeing Steve finally get his chance to reclaim the life and love that circumstances stole from him was intensely satisfying.

Final takeaway: True love endures across generations and even through the multiverse.

Number Nine – Harry Burns and Sally Albright (When Harry Met Sally…)

Can men and women ever just be friends? The philosophical answer to that burning question remains unclear, but the answer for Harry and Sally was a resounding “no.” Through multiple chance encounters spanning college and much of their early careers, these characters go through one of the quintessential will-they-won’t-they romances in all of film. I’m not a romantic comedy guy at all, but I think what makes this film so enduring is how the titular relationship makes the viewer think. Why can’t Harry and Sally just be friends? Either their friendship pushes them towards romance or they hate each other’s guts, nothing in the middle. Is this natural, or is it a subconscious choice? If so, who’s choice? Does Sally intentionally push Harry away for him posing the question? Did Harry ask the question to subliminally push their friendship in a romantic direction? Or is he simply one of those men who are able to be honest about male tendencies when dealing with women? This relationship can only be described as the realest around.

Final takeaway: Sometimes, love must endure tough questions before it can blossom.

Number Eight – Princess Anna and Kristoff (Frozen)

Disney Animation has had more than a few strong couples over the years and I knew I wanted to include one on this list. Still, which couple? Belle and Beast are a tale as old as time, Tiana and Naveen make each other better, and Aladdin and Jasmine are an iconic power couple. That said, I went with Anna and Kristoff because they have something too many film couples lack: wholesomeness. Their relationship is incredibly pure. They don’t begin as love interests, but they don’t use the enemies-to-lovers trope either. They grow into their relationship naturally. The conflict of the story forces them to become a strong team, and through that teamwork, they slowly realize how much they care about each other. They don’t change for each other, they just figure out how well they work together. And even when troubles come, such as Kristoff’s loss of confidence in Frozen II, they know and trust in the solid foundation they’ve built. As Kristoff said, their love isn’t fragile.

Final takeaway: Don’t force a relationship trope like enemies-to-lovers if it’s not needed.

Number Seven – Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater (Titanic)

From an entry that avoids tropes to one that embraces two at once: love-at-first-sight and doomed-from-the-start. In a well-executed, if overdone, beginning, Rose and Jack fall for each other when Jack prevents her from committing suicide to avoid her loveless engagement. From the setting alone, the audience suspects from the beginning that their story will end tragically. The story does take place on the Titanic, after all. Still, this relationship is not one of equals in terms of the story, as the plot skews heavily towards Rose. Jack largely functions as a device to bring Rose out of her shell and help her find the fulfillment she had been lacking in her life. Combine this with the fact that we know an elderly Rose is telling this story in the future, and it comes as no surprise to the audience that Jack perishes in the freezing waters of the Atlantic. Still, Rose could have made just a LITTLE room for him on that raft! This is a classic love story, though I did knock it down a peg or two due to its predictability and plot holes.

Final takeaway: If tropes are appropriate and required, embrace them.

Number Six – Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)

The 2005 adaptation of Jane Austen’s classic is renowned for its faithfulness to the story and strong acting. Leads Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen are on point from the start, chewing up scenes left and right as they reenact the most famous enemies-to-lovers story of them all. What’s remarkable about this love story is just how unlikely the ending seems in the beginning. Yet as the story progresses, we see the ending become more and more likely. Most impressively of all, none of it feels forced or implausible. I’ve already listed this film in my blog of the most satisfying endings in film, and all my commentary from that entry holds true here. Even though I’m not a fan of historical romance dramas, this one stands up as perhaps the best of them all.

Final takeaway: If enemies are going to fall in love, make sure it feels earned.

Number Five – Westley and Buttercup (The Princess Bride)

From a couple with relationship drama galore to one with almost none at all. In the case of Westley and Buttercup, that’s a good thing. Theirs is one of the sweetest romances in all of storytelling. They’re in love almost from the outset, plain and simple. Their story doesn’t follow the typical tropes of enemies-to-lovers or will-they-won’t-they. Instead, the story has drama and conflict from the outside forces seeking to deny them their happy ending. As a result, there is a startling amount of equality between these characters, as each is working through their own part of the story to reunite with the other. Buttercup may be a damsel in distress, but she often doesn’t really feel like it. Whether physically together or separated, Westley and Buttercup have an “us against the world” mentality, and it serves the story quite well. I know this film has a massive fan following who would skewer me if I didn’t include it on this list. As you wish.

Final takeaway: Relationship drama isn’t always necessary.

Number Four – Tony and Maria (West Side Story)

This 1961 movie retelling the Shakespeare classic features perhaps the most famous star-crossed lovers in film. Similar to Westley and Buttercup, Tony and Maria face very little relationship drama once they realize they’re in love. The drama and tension arise from outside forces – in this case, their rival gangs wanting to destroy each other. More than any other couple on this list, Tony and Maria are willing to die for each other and their love. That was the key factor that placed them above Westley and Buttercup. Both couples were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, but Tony actually did. While their tale of doomed love is ultimately very simple, it’s also iconic and unforgettable.

Final takeaway: If lovers would die for each other, they’d better mean it.

Number Three – Rick Blaine and Ilsa Lund (Casablanca)

Ah, Rick and Ilsa. A classic example of the one that got away – twice, no less. Their romance blossomed under the most chaotic of circumstances, as they met in Nazi-occupied Paris during WWII. She believed her husband had been killed while escaping from a concentration camp. Having nobody else to turn to, Ilsa clings to Rick and the two plan to flee Paris. Of course, Ilsa soon learns her husband is alive and leaves without an explanation to return to him. In the subsequent two years, Ilsa’s love for Rick never falters, though Rick is bitter and resentful over how she left. Of course, once she finally tells him the whole story and admits that she still loves him, Rick understands how much of a selfish ass he has been. Now a changed man, Rick makes the difficult choice to help Ilsa and her husband escape Casablanca to neutral Portugal. Their final goodbye on the tarmac is one of the most iconic moments in the history of cinema, and even as they still love each other, Rick shows his love selflessly by making Ilsa leave on the plane with her husband. Here’s looking at you, kid.

Final takeaway: Sometimes, true love requires letting someone go.

Number Two – Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler (Gone with the Wind)

When great cinema couples are discussed, this pairing is probably the one most people think of first. Scarlett and Rhett are the quintessential southern romantic melodrama. Neither are particularly good people, certainly not at the outset, but this adds to why their relationship is so iconic. Scarlett is a spoiled, prissy southern belle who only wants to marry her cousin’s husband. Rhett is a self-declared cynic with no honor, though he respects those who do possess honor. Through Scarlett’s first two marriages and the trials of the Civil War, both eventually grow as individuals. After Atlanta burns, Rhett decides to stop profiting off of his smuggling and actually join the military as a soldier. Scarlett has spent the war scheming and ladder-climbing but eventually uses her sharp mind to help her family recover in the post-war era. These changes lead to Scarlett and Rhett finally getting married and having a child. Yet even with this seemingly happy turn, Scarlett’s self-destructive personality continues to bring misfortune. She refuses to sleep with her husband after losing her figure postpartum, building anger and resentment in Rhett. After losing her father, her daughter, her second unborn child, and her cousin, Scarlett is at the end of her rope. Yet with her cousin dead, Rhett decides the time has come for him to leave so Scarlett can, at last, be with her cousin’s widower. At that moment, she realizes she loved Rhett all along, but too little too late. She vows to find a way to win Rhett back, but whether or not she succeeds is left unclear. Theirs is a romance of tragedy and misfortune, so much of it due to their own egos.

Final takeaway: Dysfunctional relationships create great drama but must be done well.

Before we get to the top pick, let’s do a few…

Honorable Mentions

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark (The Hunger Games)

A very popular pairing among fans of sci-fi. While Katniss and Peeta began their relationship out of necessity, doing their best to survive the Hunger Games and build a better life in Panem, it eventually grew into true dedication and commitment to each other and their ideals.

Frances “Baby” Houseman and Johnny Castle (Dirty Dancing)

While the audience might have thought this was going to be a good girl/bad boy pairing, it turns out that Johnny is a decent person. Their relationship progresses through Baby’s dance lessons with Johnny, through which she helps him overcome his self-doubt about his social status and even persuades her family to view Johnny differently.

Clark Kent and Lois Lane (Superman)

Almost all superheroes have love interests, but no hero is more closely tied to his counterpart than Clark Kent. Lois’ career and incessant ability to get herself into trouble are the catalysts for too many adventures to count. In addition, Christopher Reeve and Margot Kidder were simply iconic in the roles, a super pairing that has yet to be topped.

Aragorn and Arwen (The Lord of the Rings)

This fantasy couple’s sappy sweetness manages to rival that of even Westley and Buttercup. There was something of a love triangle that included Éowyn, but let’s be real. It was always Aragorn and Arwen. The heir of Isildur who chose exile and the elven princess who chose a mortal life. Pure poetry.

And with that, it’s time for…

Number One – Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa (Star Wars)

This is it. The perfect romance. The greatest love story ever told. Han and Leia encompass so many romantic tropes it isn’t even funny. Enemies-to-lovers, will-they-won’t-they, and complete-each-other, just to name a few. In A New Hope, the potential for a pairing between them seemed completely impossible. After all, Han is a heartless smuggler and mercenary who’s only in it for the money. Leia is an idealistic leader in the Rebel Alliance who just watched the destruction of her home planet by the Empire. They couldn’t begin farther apart, yet Han’s wink at Leia at the end of the film hints at the incredible romance that is to come. We see Han grow a conscience and help the Alliance in their moment of need, helping him start to become a true hero. And when Han is forced to flee with Leia in The Empire Strikes Back, Leia is forced to confront the harsh reality of the trouble that frequently follows Han, explaining his tendency to improvise in intense situations. Their romance happens both naturally and also out of the blue, and this heartless smuggler ends up capturing the heart of a princess. And, of course, who could forget the ultimate profession of romantic feelings just before Han is frozen in carbonite? I love you. I know. The exchange is made even better by its reversal later in Return of the Jedi. Seriously, you won’t find a better romance in storytelling than this one. Don’t try to change my mind, I will fight you.

Final takeaway: Everything. Everything about this couple is perfect.

And that’s going to do it for this romantic blog post. Of course, I’d like to know what you think. Did I get it right? Screw it all up? Who did I leave out? Feel free to let me know in the comments or reach out directly, especially if you have any ideas or requests for future entries. I’ve got an active running list of ideas, but I’m always open to more. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a like and share this post on social media. And to stay up to date on future blog posts, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter on my website. Until the next story!

Greetings, intrepid readers! M. H. Barton here with another blog on the art and craft of storytelling. Today, I decided to get back to my artistic roots as a musician. Yes, I was a musician long before I was a writer, specifically a classically trained trumpet player. As such, I usually work and write to music. While I can do my standard Corporate America job listening to almost any type of music, my needs are far more specific when writing a story. Those tastes skew almost exclusively to instrumental music with a heavy dose of classical, along with some movie and video game soundtracks. Some of this music is helpful in a very general sense of inspiration, while other pieces are useful in very specific ways. Today, I wanted to talk about the pieces I listen to most often while writing and why they’re so helpful in my efforts. This is, of course, only my opinion. As well, this isn’t necessarily a ranking of quality but more a ranking of which music I use most often. Anyway, that’s enough introduction. Let’s get to it!

Number Ten: Shostakovich – Symphony No. 5

This symphony is an inspiration for reasons both musical and historical. Composer Dimitri Shostakovich was having a rough go of it in the Soviet Union. He had been forced to withdraw his Symphony No. 4 due to criticism from the Party and now had no choice but to write a piece embodying the true spirit of Soviet Russia. Thus, he crafted this masterpiece in 1937. Its premiere was nothing short of a triumph, with both the public and Party officials praising it unanimously. But best of all, we’ve learned in recent years of the tiny measures of protest Shostakovich snuck into the music. In particular, the final section of the finale represents intense patriotism on its surface, but one can still feel something dark and sinister lurking below. The praise and adoration in the music are strained and forced, just as Shostakovich was in composing this symphony. It continues to remind us of the dangers of censorship and how a creative mind can find tiny ways to win victories against such Draconian measures. Whether for the political protest he snuck into the score or the sheer power of the music itself, this is a symphony for the ages.

Number Nine: Various – The Legend of Zelda

I’ve always loved The Legend of Zelda as a video game series. It truly encapsulates the sense of adventure I love in great storytelling, and in no way is this better represented than in the music. From exciting and swashbuckling to lonely and mysterious, the music always hits the right tone. I especially love that, even with the familiar themes used across the decades, each game has its own unique style and tone. In The Windwaker, for example, much of the music evokes shanties and other sailing music, fitting well with the oceanic setting of the game. The music of Twilight Princess is darker and more dissonant, reflecting the horror elements seen in the game’s story. Breath of the Wild has more minimalist music, almost nonexistent at times, which works with the post-apocalyptic survival gameplay. These games are a masterclass in telling a story through music, no lyrics needed.

Number Eight: Dvorák – Symphony No. 9

This piece, popularly known by its subtitle, For the New World, is more generally inspiring for me. It’s been one of my favorite pieces of classical music for years, simple as that. During his time in America, Dvorák set out to write a truly American symphony. His research resulted in him combining traditional Native American music and imagery, African American spirituals, and folk-style music into an impressive work. I love things about every movement of this work, from the adventurous opening and the beautiful second movement to the war-like third movement and the exciting finale. This is one of those pieces I could just listen to on repeat… and sometimes do.

Number Seven: Gershwin – Rhapsody in Blue

Is there a more American piece of music than this one? Not to me. George Gershwin’s jazz concerto for piano has been scored again and again over the years. Whether in its original form for jazz big band, the second version for pit orchestra, or the later orchestration for a full symphony, this piece is quintessentially American. Some, myself included, consider it the theme music of New York City itself. While I’m partial to the symphonic version, all versions of this piece are awe-inspiring and should be appreciated. From the greasy clarinet opening to the frantic subway-inspired finale, this piece always makes me excited to tell a story.

Number Six: Williams – Star Wars

While the various films and TV shows of the Star Wars franchise are all over the place in quality, the music is consistently stellar. This is in large part to the greatest composer of film scores the world has ever seen, John Williams. It doesn’t matter which film’s soundtrack I put in, any of them always put me in the proper mindset for writing. In particular, “Binary Sunset” from A New Hope does wonders for my brainstorming efforts. Whenever I’m working on outlining a story or trying to come up with a new idea for a character or plot point, this is my go-to.

Number Five: Beethoven – Symphony No. 9

Perhaps the most universally recognizable and beloved classical piece of them all, Beethoven’s final complete symphony simply oozes inspiration. It’s so iconic that many refer to it as the only ninth symphony. Though it has its detractors who claim it to be overrated, I can honestly say this is the greatest symphonic work ever composed, especially given that Beethoven was deaf during its composition and premiere. The finale is majestic, as everyone knows, but the entire symphony is truly a complete work of art. As mind-blowing as the “Ode to Joy” is, I encourage anyone listening to this piece to take it as a whole, complete work. It makes the ending far more satisfying, which is the biggest lesson this piece always teaches me. The most dramatic ending is diminished without a meaningful journey to precede it.

Number Four: Rimsky-Korsakov – Scheherazade

This symphonic suite should be near and dear to the hearts and minds of all storytellers, as it brings to life one of the original storytellers, Scheherazade herself. From the start of the piece, we hear the themes of the Sultan and Scheherazade stated clearly before these themes begin to meld into the rest of the music. The Sultan’s domineering theme softens to depict Sinbad’s ship on the sea and Scheherazade’s mesmerizing theme dances throughout. This incredible musical storytelling continues through all four movements, with both of the main themes becoming more varied as the Sultan grows impatient and Scheherazade begins to weave ever more complicated stories. And while I love a bombastic finish to symphonic works, this one could only conclude with a quiet coda after the rousing finale. With all the complexities of the piece, the themes of the Sultan and Scheherazade are brought back to a quiet simplicity, showing the Sultan pardoning Scheherazade before she finally gets a peaceful night of rest for herself. Seriously, I get chills every time I listen to this one. Nothing more I can say.

Number Three: Beethoven – Symphony No. 5

Another Beethoven symphony, and while this one is certainly inspiring, I also listen to it to help get me into a very specific mindset. This symphony is an excellent example of how Beethoven can take something simple, such as the famed four opening notes of this piece, and spin them into something increasingly complex. Those opening notes, often thought of as Fate knocking, return almost incessantly throughout this work. Whether played in the quiet background, as a startling fanfare, or building towards the finale’s climax, these notes are ever-present. This is precisely why this piece helps my writing so much – it gets me in a mindset of building on increasing complexities. When I’m working out a convoluted series of events and have to make sure all the boxes are checked, this music focuses my mind to that level. It’s proven invaluable for me time and time again.

Number Two: Uematsu – One Winged Angel

You already know that I love video game soundtracks, and the final fight against Sephiroth in Final Fantasy VII features possibly the single greatest piece of music ever written for a video game. “One Winged Angel” is powerful, intense, mysterious, and just a little terrifying. In other words, it’s everything one should want to hear while fighting a final boss. That’s why this is my go-to music when I write fight scenes, particularly the ultimate climax of a story. Just as a video game’s final boss should be the culmination of everything the player has learned while playing the game, the climax of a story should be the culmination of all the themes and character arcs therein. No piece of music represents this ideal more than “One Winged Angel” in my opinion and I hope to be listening to it for many future climax scenes to come.

Before we get to the winner, let's do a few...

Honorable Mentions

Mozart – Symphony No. 39

Though Mozart’s subsequent two symphonies may be more famous, this one is special to me, as it was the first symphony I ever performed as part of a full orchestra. With Mozart’s impeccable precision and memorable themes, it remains an excellent piece to write to.

Respighi – Pines of Rome

This tone poem is a beautiful example of program music, telling a specific story through the composer’s vision. The opening is frantic and fun, I adore the haunting, lyrical melodies of the middle two movements, and the powerful finale is one of the best endings to any piece in the classical repertoire, in my mind.

Giacchino – The Incredibles

Michael Giacchino composed one of the greatest film soundtracks of all time in this Pixar classic. His music perfectly captures the feel of Silver Age superhero comics while also giving those heroes room to breathe in their private lives. Obviously, this soundtrack provides a great mindset for writing fast-paced action sequences.

Mahler – Symphony No. 5

Gustav Mahler is my favorite classical composer, and this is my second favorite of his symphonies for several reasons. One, there are many incredible sections to perform on trumpet throughout this work. Two, it’s hugely famous, being used in movies and TV shows. But most of all, it’s an incredible ride of emotion. That said, it still falls to…

Number One: Mahler – Symphony No. 1

While Mahler’s Fifth may be my favorite symphony to perform, his First is far and away my favorite to listen to. To me, this work is the perfect musical representation of the writing technique of The Hero’s Journey. The hero has humble, idealistic beginnings, which give way to growth. Along the way, he finds love and humor, but dark times are unavoidable. Yet even through these stormy moments, the hero perseveres and emerges from his trials triumphant. As I previously stated, Mahler is a true master of emotion in music. Throughout his life, he wore his emotions right on his sleeve, and few composers put more of their soul into their works than Mahler. I frickin’ love every second of this symphony and it’s by far my most frequently listened to piece of music for my writings.

And that’s going to do it for this list of music. I hope you found it entertaining, maybe even helpful in your own writing endeavors. Sometimes, that one new piece of music is exactly what a writer needs to get past a block. Feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments or reach out directly, especially if you have any ideas or requests for future entries. I’ve got an active running list of ideas, but I’m always open to more. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a like and share this post on social media. And to stay up to date on future blog posts, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter on my website. Until the next story!

Greetings, intrepid readers! M. H. Barton here with another blog on the art and craft of storytelling. Now that we’re finally through the holiday season, I thought I’d take a little break from the high-intensity ranking blogs with lots of research involved. Instead, I’m just gonna kick back and wax philosophical a bit in this one as I explore the flaws behind one of my favorite heroic entities in storytelling – the Jedi. As anyone who knows me can attest, I love Star Wars. Like, frickin’ love it to death. It’s probably my biggest fandom and has been since elementary school. I haven’t always liked or agreed with the new directions the series has taken in recent years, but I still adore the concept of a high fantasy story told in a science fiction universe. And what’s a high fantasy story without knights in shining armor? Well, in this case, it’s more knights with shining lightsabers, but what’s the difference? Anyway, I wanted to explore the history behind this order of selfless warrior monks and explain why, in spite of their noble ways, I believe they’re always doomed to fall apart. This is, of course, only my opinion, but I do think a great many fans will share these views. I will try to stick to canon information, though there may be an occasional reference to the non-canon books, comics, and the like of the Expanded Universe. Anyway, that’s enough rambling. Time to do or do not.

Much of the origins of the Jedi remain a mystery, but we know the first Jedi Temple was built on the planet of Ahch-To. There, they wrote a set of ancient texts to outline their religion and set laws to govern the Jedi Order. Foremost among these was their faith in the Light Side of the Force, which drew power from peace, benevolence, and serenity. In time, a group of Jedi went rogue as they explored the Dark Side, drawing on anger, fear, and a lust for power in their efforts. These rogue Jedi eventually formed their own order, the Sith, and war soon followed, breaking out about 1,000 years before the events of Episode I. Despite their early success, the Sith were eventually wiped out to near extinction. This was not only due to the heroic efforts of the Jedi to beat them back but also because the ranks of the Sith began to cannibalize themselves as they betrayed each other for greater power. In the end, the core tenants of the Sith were their undoing. Only Darth Bane survived the war and decided to create the Rule of Two, stating there could only be two Sith – a master to amass power and an apprentice to covet that power. In this way, the enemies of the Jedi continued to survive in secret for a millennium.

But what of the Jedi following the war? This is where things get very interesting. While official information on how the Jedi Order changed in the postwar era is limited, it is reasonable to assume that they became far stricter in enforcing their laws. In the non-canon Expanded Universe, the time before this war was less regulated and each Master was allowed to teach their apprentices as they saw fit. Some Jedi even married and formed families. Once the war was won, however, it can be postulated that the Jedi High Council began to crack down on such deviations from official doctrine. This truly began the Order’s emphasis on avoiding attachments of any kind. Per the company line, Jedi are to be selfless and compassionate, always putting others above themselves. Allowing oneself to fall in love with another person interferes with this by introducing what the Order viewed as the start of a slippery slope – the fear of loss. Grand Master Yoda often spoke of this fear leading to anger and hate, specifically through jealousy at the prospect of losing a loved one to death. In but a few generations following the war, it seems clear that all dissension regarding this issue had been quashed or removed from the Order, ushering the Jedi into a golden age of stability. Or so they thought.

As previously stated, the Sith managed to survive for the millennium following the war thanks to the Rule of Two. Eventually, Sheev Palpatine, secretly the Sith Master Darth Sidious, began to ascend through the political ranks of the Republic, all while plotting the downfall of the Jedi Order. When the Jedi broke their rule of only accepting infants into their Order by admitting Anakin Skywalker, Palpatine saw his chance. Anakin had incredible potential with the Force and a desire to prove himself as a Jedi, yet also a great deal of anger at the continued enslavement of his mother. The Jedi teachings of letting go of this attachment were of no comfort to the angsty young man, allowing Palpatine to step in and form a seemingly innocent friendship with him. Thus, the stage was set for Darth Sidious to vanquish the ancient enemy of the Sith.

Ultimately, the Jedi were ruinously unprepared to train a student such as Anakin. After all, the only reason they broke their rule and admitted him into the Order was due to the belief that Anakin was the prophesized Chosen One. According to Jedi teachings, a Chosen One was to be born of no father, like Anakin, and would use his enormous skill to bring the Force into ultimate balance. With the pain and anger in Anakin’s past, he needed a teacher who could soften that pain and help him deal with it, someone like the renegade Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn. But with Jinn’s death, the task of training Anakin fell to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kenobi is certainly one of the greatest Jedi in the history of the Order, but he still wasn’t the teacher Anakin needed. Kenobi was a company man through and through, believing in the Jedi Code with his all and without exception. Anakin’s frustrations with Kenobi’s unyielding belief in the Code caused him to further his friendship with Palpatine.

The beginning of the end happened when Anakin decided to break the Jedi Code, marrying Padmé Amidala and conceiving a child with her. He knew there was nobody in the Order he could confide in, so he kept this a secret for over three years as he fought in the Clone War. As the war raged on, Padmé and Palpatine continued to be Anakin’s only true friends, at least in his mind, yet Padmé held influence over Anakin that even Palpatine did not. Still, the Sith had a plan for this. Though never explicitly stated, it is heavily implied that Palpatine used the Dark Side to influence Anakin’s dreams. This first resulted in Anakin killing the Tuskin Raiders who killed his mother, starting his descent toward the Dark Side. The killing blow, literally and figuratively, came when he gave Anakin dreams of Padmé dying in childbirth. This was the ultimate motivation for Anakin to do whatever it took to save her, even turning on the Jedi Order. Yoda attempted to counsel Anakin in these matters, but without knowing the full extent of the dreams, his reply came off as tone-deaf and uncaring to young Anakin. With Yoda’s failure to see what was truly at play in Anakin’s dreams, the fate of the Jedi Order was officially sealed. The Order soon fell, allowing Palpatine to take absolute control of the galaxy with the Galactic Empire.

Over two decades later, the age of the Empire would finally come to an end thanks to the efforts of Luke Skywalker to redeem his father Anakin, now Darth Vader. With Anakin seemingly fulfilling the prophecy of the Chosen One by killing Palpatine and destroying the Sith, Luke then seized upon the opportunity to rebuild the Jedi Order as the New Republic rose. Of course, Luke’s Jedi training under Yoda was far from conventional, being little more than a crash course. Thus, Luke began to give his twin sister, Leia, the training of a true Jedi Knight. She nearly succeeded but chose to end her training when she had a vision of her son’s death signaling the completion of her training.

As this son, Ben Solo, came of age, Leia sent him to Luke for Jedi training, hoping to curb the darker influence of Solo’s grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. Though Leia’s career is certainly that of an exemplary leader, this was perhaps the greatest folly of her life. To entrust the volatile young grandson of Anakin Skywalker to a new Jedi Master who was still himself finding out what it meant to be a Jedi was a massive mistake. In his desire to rebuild the Jedi Order, Luke had steeped himself in their old teachings of avoiding attachment, isolating himself from the family he had found during his time with the Rebel Alliance. Ben proved to be a prodigy with the Force, but as he grew older and stronger, various forces worked to tempt him to the Dark Side. It is unclear how effective these forces were in their efforts, but what is clear is what ultimately sent him over the edge.

Master Luke Skywalker ultimately fell prey to the same mistake as his father – acting rashly on a vision that gave him only a small amount of information. In Luke’s case, he foresaw the dark warrior Ben Solo could become and resolved to kill the young man in his sleep. Though he stopped himself before he could strike, Ben woke up right then and saw what was about to happen. The result was a whirlwind of emotions for young Ben, who destroyed Luke’s Jedi academy and killed all the students in the process. With his own uncle seemingly against him, Ben quickly fell to the Dark Side and joined the First Order under Supreme Leader Snoke, bringing the second Jedi Order to a disastrous close. Luke, in his shame, retreated into exile on Ahch-To, discovering the sacred Jedi texts during his seclusion there. Of course, he was eventually found by Rey, who later defeated the First Order and redeemed Ben Solo, but we have yet to see if any Jedi Order will rise again from her efforts.

Ultimately, the Jedi Order will always fail because of their misunderstandings of a few key fundamental principles. First are their views on fear. They believe fear, any fear, to be a path to the Dark Side, but fear itself is natural and unavoidable. Instead, they should have focused on understanding fear and avoiding being ruled by it. The best-intentioned Jedi did attempt this to some extent, such as Grand Master Yoda, but it did no good in the end. Their Creed simply had no room to understand those in the Order who struggled with fear, leading to the tone-deaf attitude of the High Council.

The old Jedi Order was so obsessed with avoiding fear that they then forced their members to avoid anything that could possibly lead to fear, even those things that are normally good and healthy things for people. Foremost is the ability to have a romantic relationship with another. Curiously, George Lucas himself has said that Jedi aren’t forced to be celibate. It’s the emotional attachment that’s forbidden, not the physical act. In the non-canon stories, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi was even married to multiple wives due to the low birth rate of males of his species, though he still tried to refrain from emotional attachment to them. The Jedi didn’t just misunderstand fear, but also emotional intimacy itself. It isn’t a one-way street, as the Jedi treated it. It’s a constant two-lane road that must be traversed with purpose and care. Looking at the Jedi Order through the lens of religion, I see a number of parallels between the Jedi and our modern Catholic Church.

Full disclosure, I’m a Protestant, not a Catholic, so my understanding of Catholic affairs is limited, but I know a bit. Catholic priests are not allowed to marry at all in order to devote their entire being to God, but this has brought new problems to light in the modern day. There are many stories of priests breaking their vow by marrying and having children, some seeking backdoor permission to do so and others doing so in complete secret. Many of these individuals have been allowed to remain as priests after being discovered, even as they live with their wives, presumably acting as husbands and wives do with each other. And, of course, there is the widespread problem of serial child abuse among the priesthood, which has still not been properly dealt with, in my humble opinion. But I digress. My point is not to shame this as hypocrisy but to highlight that both the Jedi and the Catholic Church hold to ideals that are unrealistic and unhealthy. After all, the Bible itself says in Genesis that it is not good for Man to be alone. Whether in our real world or a Galaxy Far, Far Away, we are social creatures who need companionship and emotional intimacy to become our best selves.

What saddened me even more than the fall of the old Jedi Order was seeing how Luke structured his new Order. In his desire to give the new Jedi students as much conventional training as possible, Luke fell into the trap of failing to learn from the past. He had a prime opportunity to reform the Jedi Code and prevent it from being ruled by fear, but he instead doubled down on it. We see this clearly when he begins training the young Grogu, warning him against the attachment he has formed with Mandalorian warrior Din Djarin and forcing him to choose between family and the Jedi. I remember first watching that scene and feeling my heart break. Luke’s methods show that he has learned nothing, and it took the fall of his own Order for him to get it.

In his exile on Ahch-To, Luke finally understands the vanity and hubris of the Jedi. He understands their view of the Jedi being the keepers of the Light Side is folly because neither the Light Side nor the Dark Side can be destroyed. They exist in a balance, and even the old Jedi Order didn’t truly understand that balance. The Jedi Order had faith in a prophecy that a Chosen One would bring balance to the Force by destroying the Sith, but he instead brought balance by destroying nearly all the Jedi, bringing their numbers on par with the Sith. In the non-canon stories, there are former Jedi called Gray Jedi. They follow the Light Side while recognizing that the Dark Side will always exist alongside it. They fight for balance, to ensure the Dark does not overwhelm the Light, and to ensure the Light does not become oblivious to the true nature of the Dark. The films ended rather ambiguously with Rey as the last surviving Jedi after destroying the Sith, but I have some slight hope. I like to think she may try to take a different path going forward. Perhaps Rey could become something of a Gray Jedi, being a champion of balance and training future Jedi to do the same. Of course, I could be dead wrong, as she still keeps the sacred Jedi texts, but maybe this will finally be the moment the Jedi learn from their past mistakes. But as future Star Wars movies are on hold for a while, only time will tell.

And that’s going to do it for this bit of speculation. I hope my musings were interesting and entertaining, maybe even helpful to you in your efforts. Of course, I’d like to know what you think. Am I on point? Dead wrong? Feel free to let me know in the comments or reach out directly, especially if you have any ideas or requests for future entries. I’ve got an active running list of ideas, but I’m always open to more. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a like and share this post on social media. And to stay up to date on future blog posts, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter on my website. Until the next story!