Chuck Klosterman On Film And Television by Chuck Klosterman Page A

Back
was not the Endor-saturated stupidity of
Return of the Jedi
; it was
Reality Bites
.
    I concede that part of my bias toward
Empire
probably comes from the fact that it was the first movie I ever saw in a theater. This is a seminal experience for anyone, and I suppose it unconsciously shapes the way a person looks at cinema (I initially assumed all theatrical releases were prefaced by an expository text block that was virtually incomprehensible). The film was set in three static locations: The ice planet Hoth (which looked like North Dakota), the jungle system Dagobah (which was sort of like the final twenty minutes of
Apocalypse Now
), and the mining community of Cloud City (apparently a cross between Las Vegas and Birmingham, Alabama). It’s often noted by critics that this is the only
Star Wars
film that ends on a stridently depressing note: Han Solo is frozen in carbonite and torn away from Princess Leia, Luke gets his paw hacked off, and Darth Vader has the universe by the jugular.
The Empire Strikes Back
is the only blockbuster of the modern era to celebrate the abysmal failure of its protagonists. This is important; this is why
The Empire Strikes Back
set the philosophical template for all the slackers who would come of age ten years later. George Lucas built the army of clones that would eventually be led by Richard Linklater.
    Now, I realize
The Empire Strikes Back
was not the first movie all future Gen Xers saw. I was eight when I saw
Empire,
and I distinctly remember that a lot of my classmates had already seen
Star Wars
(or at least its first theatrical rerelease) and of course they all loved it, mostly because little kids are stupid. But
Empire
was the first movie that people born in the early seventies could understand in a way that went outside of its rudimentary plotline. And that’s why a movie about the good guys losing—both politically and romantically—is so integral to how people my age look at life.
    When sociologists and journalists started writing about the sensibilities that drove Gen Xers, they inevitably used words like
angst-ridden
and
disenfranchised
and
lost
. As of late, it’s become popular to suggest that this was a flawed stereotype, perpetuated by an aging media who didn’t understand the emerging underclass.
    Actually, everyone was right the first time.
    All those original pundits were dead-on; for once, the media managed to define an entire demographic of Americans with absolute accuracy. Everything said about Gen Xers—both positive and negative—was completely true. Twenty-somethings in the nineties rejected the traditional working-class American lifestyle because (a) they were smart enough to realize those values were unsatisfying, and (b) they were totally fucking lazy. Twenty somethings in the nineties embraced a record like Nirvana’s
Nevermind
because (a) it was a sociocultural affront to the vapidity of the Reagan-era paradigm, and (b) it fucking rocked. Twenty-somethings in the nineties were by and large depressed about the future, mostly because (a) they knew there was very little to look forward to, and (b) they were obsessed with staring into the eyes of their own self-absorbed sadness. There are no myths about Generation X. It’s all true.
    This being the case, it’s clear that Luke Skywalker was the original Gen Xer. For one thing, he was incessantly whiny. For another, he was exhaustively educated—via Yoda—about things that had little practical value (i.e., how to stand on one’s head while lifting a rock telekinetically). Essentially, Luke went to the University of Dagobah with a major in Buddhist philosophy and a minor in physical education. There’s not a lot of career opportunities for that kind of schooling; that’s probably why he dropped out in the middle of the semester. Meanwhile, Luke’s only romantic aspirations are directed toward a woman who (literally) looks at him like a brother. His dad is on his case to join the family business. Most