Last Saturday, I began discussing the Starkiller Base and the callous way Abrams wiped out five civilizations just to reach the next plot point. Now, it’s time to go into the issues with Starkiller Base in more detail.

First, there’s Finn. When he sees the red streaks in the sky, he leaves the men who were supposed to help him escape and tells Han that they’ve finally succeeded, which means he knew about the base.

So, why didn’t he say anything about this mega-death machine before? And why hasn’t the Republic found out about this and tried to stop it? This film isn’t talking about one secret base in an armada of bases scattered throughout the galaxy. This is a base the size of a planet. How does one keep the workers, the guys running supplies, the soldiers, everyone required to create this system destroying machine quiet? You can’t. And the Republic should’ve been on The First Order’s case a long time ago, but somebody was apparently hoping that the audience wouldn’t think about all this if no one in the film mentioned it.

Science fiction is really about the story, not the tech

 But here is a more nuanced point that needs to be addressed. JJ Abrams said, “Star Wars is not a science lesson.” True enough. In Star Wars, for example, there are explosions and sounds in space. That’s not realistic. But then nobody is expected to have an in-depth understanding of gravity when it comes to enjoying Star Wars. But here is the major difference between sounds in space and Starkiller Base: it comes down to aesthetics versus function.

The sounds and explosions are mere window dressing. The plot doesn’t change if the lasers are audible, even if that’s not good science. Think about it. Why did science fiction remain compelling for so many people, even when they could see the fish line holding up the cardboard UFO? Because the graphics and effects didn’t need to be compelling. Science fiction was about the story. The effects only had to be believable enough for the imagination to do the rest.

What science fiction can get away with — and can’t

That’s not to say that special effects are worthless. But they are second-tier when it comes to storytelling. People will believe a lot if the chain of cause and effect remains compelling. Put another way, the important thing isn’t whether or not there are fiery explosions in space; it’s that whenever there is an explosion in space, it’s fiery. The effects, whether right or wrong, become part of the world-building, provided they remain consistent.

Here’s another example. In a bad horror film, if the zipper on the monster’s suit remains visible, it becomes part of the world, part of the fun. The audience might be laughing at the bad effects; they may even laugh at the movie itself. Only when the zipper is incompetently hidden and therefore seen when that would damage the story does it destroy the suspension of disbelief. That was the charm of those old B-movies. They knew what they were and were able to match their limitations to the tone of the film.

Surreal set designs in theater thrive on this. Nobody really believes that the painted bricks on a canvas flat are really a castle. But if those canvas bricks can merge with the lighting and the actors, the whole scene becomes an aesthetic. I spent years directing shows in community theaters, and this is something I’ve experienced personally. One can get away with a lot on a shoestring budget.   

Now here’s where the story rules come in

But the difference between aesthetics and Starkiller Base is function within the story. Starkiller Base is a weapon. A weapon that can apparently wipe out entire systems in a single volley. The heroes, and likewise the audience, need to understand how this thing works before they can understand what the heroes can do to stop it. They need rules so they can understand the stakes. This is yet another example of technology working as a hard magic system. If the device is going to drive the plot, the audience needs to understand how the thing works beyond “it shoots and things go boom.” In other words, even if the monster has a zipper on it, the audience still understands that the monster has super strength and can shoot slime. The heroes need to overpower the thing without getting slimed to beat it.

Does Starkiller Base keep the hard magic rules?

So, let’s look at the issues with Starkiller Base. It feeds on its sun. In the movie, it looks like it can only shoot two volleys before the sun goes out, but the sun doesn’t visibly grow smaller during the first volley, so the audience has no way of knowing that. And what is the thing supposed to do after it’s fired the two volleys? Does it just sit there? Can it fly? And what would chewing up a sun do to the thing’s orbit? Is that orbit going to change? What about the other planets around it? Does it even have other planets around it?

Then there are the lasers themselves. The people on Maz’s planet can see the lasers, which raises a question of how close Han and the others are to the base. Would it be better to go and stop the weapon before reaching the Resistance? Is that more important than Luke’s whereabouts? Seems like it.

And since they can see the lasers, that means the lasers aren’t moving at light speed. If the lasers aren’t moving at light speed, then how long does the Republic have before the lasers reach them? Could some people escape?

And what if something gets in the way of the lasers before they reach the target? Will it destroy the laser? Will the laser destroy that object and keep moving? Can they divert the laser just a little by putting something in the way? Would that save the planets? The Death Star was right next to Alderaan when it attacked. There was little chance of something obstructing the laser before it reached its target. But for all the audience knows, a planet or large asteroid could move in the laser’s way and ruin the shot.

What happens when hard magic rules are not kept?

The audience is asking at least some of these questions and others like it in record time because understanding these questions informs them about what the heroes are going to do next. And if the audience is given so little information that they can’t even venture a guess, guess what? They check out. And something that should’ve felt catastrophic only feels anti-climactic. But in a scene where five planets are destroyed at once, that absolutely should not be the case.

And it seems that, in some measure, the writers knew this, which is why the First Order showed up on Maz’s planet right away. There should’ve at least been time to let the scene breathe, to ask questions, to evaluate options, but the writers didn’t have an answer to these questions, apparently, so they quickly moved on to the next thing, hoping that no one would notice.

Now let’s talk about stakes

The last issue, what is at stake?, is pretty straightforward. Starkiller Base creates an escalation problem for the future films. Rian Johnson dodged that bullet largely because, in Star Wars, the sequels tend to be more character-driven plots. But thanks to this superficial stunt, Abrams was put in the unfortunate situation of topping himself in the next film.

Hint: he didn’t succeed. We’ll cover what happens during the attack on Maz’s planet next Saturday.