Abstract

Without rehashing familiar clichés, it is no exaggeration to say that this iconic movie series remains firmly embedded in the public consciousness. Hence the media hyperbole surrounding this latest release. The storyline will not be reiterated here, for want of spoiling the immersive experience. Nonetheless, as an older, more experienced fan, some musings are decidedly due.
What struck me first were the expectations with which I entered the theater: to be once again enchanted, excited and powerfully drawn into what is essentially a psychological fable. ‘Re-awakened’ by viscerally tinged memories of 35 years ago when Darth Vader informed Luke Skywalker that ‘I am your father!’, I suppose I was, once again, seeking to stir up those same powerful and deeply buried emotions within me: to be taken ‘back there’ so to speak.
What do such longings tell us about ourselves? Is the celluloid screen a de facto therapy session, whereby we desire engagement in some sort of dialectic with our projected ‘internal objects’? Or perhaps it is the sheer emotional resonance of words that have the power to reawaken dormant or unresolved ‘wounds’—wounds that would otherwise have remained buried deep in our psyche? If so, perhaps this reveals our yearning to integrate historical, emotional, as well as narrative (Lewis, 2011) aspects into the totality of our conscious experience.
Some would argue that such longings also entail more than just such ‘soul-searching’. They usually include wanting to experience enticing feelings such as awe, excitement and as if connecting with something far greater than ourselves. For many, this represents the metaphysical or spiritual aspect of human consciousness, with thoughts and emotions taken to pleasantly overwhelming, even ‘atmospheric’ realms of experience: the ‘peak experience’, as it has been so aptly described before (Maslow, 1964).
Hence the power of these mythologies (Campbell, 2008)—with mesmerizing archetypes such as Darth Vader, whom we are drawn to, even though we know their malevolence. Of course, such stories would lack equilibrium, were it not for their just as noble polar opposites—who must endure suffering and even vulnerability, in order to lead others to victory over evil. Such dichotomies are arguably as old as human history itself—with idealization and devaluation of groups that have had to juxtapose uncomfortably with one another over the course of centuries. Unfortunately, they can also result in predictably disastrous consequences—such as racism, war and genocide (Post, 2004).
Given then that a new generation is being introduced to this mythology, perhaps the responsibility remains ours to remind them that gray, not black and white, is the ‘real’ in reality, and that all human beings have admirable as well as loathsome qualities. What’s more, such loathsomeness (as exemplified by Revenge of the Sith) usually comes from a place of trauma, not merely a wellspring of ‘pure’ evil.
Finally, there is the elusive but prevailing entity which permeates this entire genre: ‘The Force’. It is cited quantitatively (‘The Force is strong with him’) as well as qualitatively (‘The Dark Side’) and even organically (‘The Force Awakens’). It is as if what is described is a pervasive ‘life’ or spiritual consciousness in its own right. Not surprisingly, religious and philosophical scholars have written much more than psychiatry on this fascinating topic. Cartesian dualism (Descartes and Cress, 1596–1650) might be pertinent here–as exemplified by psychiatry’s current reverence for ‘evidence-based’ thinking. Hence, with our profession’s focus being so firmly on the brain, it now has virtually nothing to say about ‘the mind’. That seems regrettable for a specialty with such historically rich and diverse roots as psychiatry.
In summary, through its exaggerated artistic license, Star Wars uses adventure, imagination and characters to engage us; to take us to new mental realms; and to provoke us into thinking far beyond what we thought. For psychiatrists, I would add that Star Wars’ ‘magicality’ merits much deeper consideration, not least because it forces us once more to revere life, in all its weird, wonderful and even ‘wicked’ forms.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
