Chapter 912: Light and Dark

For Duke, satisfying ordinary fans and audiences far outweighed anything else. This was his most basic guiding principle in making Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a cinematic sci-fi epic of friendship, faith, and loyalty opened its very first chapter. Thirty-seven years later, its seventh installment was ready to launch. Now, the banner called "Star Wars" rested in the hands of a new generation of filmmakers who had grown up alongside its legend, working together to carry it forward.

Returning to Los Angeles from San Diego, Duke dove straight into the massive soundstages at the Hughes Aircraft Plant to shoot the few remaining scenes.

"There aren't enough people."

Standing on the high platform at the back of the soundstage, Duke looked down at the dense cluster of Stormtroopers and asked Anna Printz, "Do we have any extras left?"

This was where they would film a First Order general delivering a speech. The set, designed by Hannah Serena, drew inspiration from Hitler addressing the Nazi SS during World War II. This adhered to a long-standing Star Wars tradition; anyone who had seen the original trilogy could easily spot that the Empire's uniforms looked remarkably like Nazi military attire.

As for the Sith Emperor, he was undeniably an avatar of Adolf Hitler no matter how you looked at him.

To a certain extent, Duke still utilized this hidden setup, and he had no reservations about doing so. Across the Western world and indeed the entire Earth, being anti-Nazi and anti-Hitler was one of the most fundamental tenets of Political Correctness and moral values.

True, there were quite a few people in the world who sympathized with or even worshipped the Nazis and Hitler, but few were stupid enough to broadcast it openly—unless they were a brain-dead moron like Lars von Trier.

That Danish director had always had a screw loose. He didn't just think he was the god of the film industry; he thought he was the god of all humanity. He frequently threw out shocking statements just to grab attention and court publicity.

Take his so-called "Dogma 95" manifesto, for example. Let alone the other directors he demanded adhere to it, he himself had never actually followed it.

But if you walk by the river often enough, your shoes will get wet. This unhinged director naturally managed to bungle his own publicity stunts.

In 2011, Lars von Trier appeared at the Main Competition of the 64th Cannes Film Festival with his new film Melancholia. His unfiltered mouth left all of Europe in shock.

Never one to shy away from controversy, the director blurted out, "For a long time, I was proud to be Jewish. Then I met Susanne Bier—a Danish director whose film In a Better World won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film that year—and I wasn't so happy after that. Later on, I found out I was actually a Nazi. My family was from Germany, which thrilled me. What more can I say? I understand Adolf Hitler, and I even sympathize with him a little bit."

And he wasn't done. Facing a room full of press, Lars von Trier continued his unhinged rant.

"I am a Nazi."

Never mind anyone else—even the stars of Melancholia, Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg, were utterly appalled. It was as if the man sitting next to them wasn't the director they knew at all.

The final result was that Lars von Trier was immediately expelled from the Cannes Film Festival and banned from France.

Being anti-Nazi was the absolute most basic baseline. Spouting Nazi-sympathizing rhetoric in something like the film industry was tantamount to career suicide.

While Star Wars never stated it explicitly, anyone with eyes could see that the villains being scourged by the light side were just a cosmic version of the Nazis.

Because they were short on extras, Duke spun around on the platform.

He called out behind him, "Tina, get everyone in the crew who isn't actively shooting to dress up as Stormtroopers. And anyone visiting the set..."

This sort of thing was commonplace. It wasn't strange in Hollywood for crew members to moonlight as extras for scenes requiring massive crowds; Duke had done the exact same thing while shooting The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

The rest of the crew who weren't directly involved in the shoot put on Stormtrooper armor—even Daisy Ridley and Daniel Wu were no exception. That finally provided enough bodies to fill out the Stormtrooper ranks in front of the green screen. The remaining soldiers in the wide shots could easily be added in post-production via CGI.

Compared to the nearly full day of busy prep work, the actual filming went incredibly smoothly. After just three takes, Duke announced they had the shot.

For the subsequent shoots, Duke maintained his usual caution and focus. Capturing the essence of the original Star Wars wasn't difficult for him; the real challenge lay in forging a brand-new chapter that possessed the distinct personality of a new era.

People born in the 1990s and 2000s had already become the primary driving force in the film market. They didn't know the intricate history between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. Terms like Lightsaber and Darth Vader, and even the "I am your father" reference, had taken on broader cultural significance rather than just being niche markers for hardcore fans.

Serving as writer, director, and producer, Duke had to ensure that even a generation that hadn't grown up with Star Wars would have no trouble understanding Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Ultimately, the true protagonists of Star Wars: The Force Awakens were two "rookie" actors making their mainstream Hollywood blockbuster debut: Daisy Ridley and Daniel Wu.

To land these two roles, they were—in the media's words—absolute lottery winners. However, the audition process they endured had been painful, drawn-out, and deeply deceptive. Because the Star Wars brand was so massive, Duke had even written an entirely fake script specifically for the auditions just to maintain secrecy.

Once cast, the burden on these newcomers didn't lighten in the slightest. Star Wars: The Force Awakens also required its actors to face "live fire" during their performances. The two leads had to sprint through the desert in full gear, dodging practical explosions. Duke could never deny the dedication of the entire team or the quality of their practical effects.

Naturally, Duke's own workload as the director was immensely heavy.

For Duke, the most important thing about Star Wars was that it was never just one simple thing. In fact, that was exactly why he had chosen to make this film.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens wasn't just a massive epic; it was deeply nuanced and touching. In some aspects, it was serious and meticulous, yet at times it was hilarious and side-splitting. It carried heavy, dark elements and intense, high-stakes conflict, while simultaneously being genuinely fun, warm, and romantic.

You could say this story encompassed everything. It was a tale of friendship, trust, sacrifice, loyalty, and believing in oneself—all the forces that bound people tightly together.

What Duke needed to do was use the existing materials and characters to craft a new story—one that didn't require the audience to have seen Star Wars before. Moviegoers would see Han Solo on screen, but they wouldn't need to know his past to enjoy this film.

Of course, if a fan had seen Han Solo in the previous installments, they might view his performance from a different perspective.

The other leads in this film were all making their first appearance, allowing the audience to follow their gaze and experience this cinematic world alongside them.

In the world's mainstream film market, some people only knew Star Wars from video games. Others only knew a plot point or two from the cartoons. Some had only heard about it from friends and had never watched it themselves. But everyone knew the terms "Skywalker" and "Lightsaber," even if they hadn't seen the movies.

There were also many places where people hadn't seen these movies at all. Therefore, Duke knew that shooting a film like this required visual awe, eye-catching action sequences, and the palpable sensation of light clashing against dark.

These were eternal, unchanging themes.

Star Wars itself—the first film in the series—was extremely simple and straightforward in many ways. Some people might think many of its elements were outdated by today's standards because of that very simplicity.

But it remained a beautiful, fun, moving, and sweet story. Its protagonists were underdogs and grassroots nobodies—people who weren't elites, who held no power, and who never could have imagined that they actually possessed the ability to stand against the greatest forces of evil.

There were massive mysteries hidden within, many unresolved questions, and a wealth of things that Duke needed to lead his entire team to explore. But none of that mattered, because you didn't need to know any of it to be captivated by the story.

It already possessed every element an audience could want from an epic film—a tense narrative, fierce battles, dramatic conflict, and magnificent set pieces. It had it all.

For Duke, however, the key to the film's success was that the audience had to like and care about the characters. They were the true core of the movie. A cold spaceship meant nothing; only when characters the audience loved were aboard that ship did its voyage hold any meaning.

Duke's goal was to make the audience want to see the stories that unfolded on board.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens needed to possess epic emotional weight while also showcasing breathtaking visual effects.

Since officially forming as a team, Duke and his collaborators had already completed many incredibly outstanding films.

When time marched into late July, Duke successfully wrapped all filming on Star Wars: The Force Awakens and immediately transitioned into post-production.

This time was different from his past projects. The visual effects work was comparatively lighter, as Duke had relied heavily on practical, on-location filming to evoke a sense of nostalgia.

The practical shots were equally brilliant. There were many characters and scenes that audiences wouldn't believe were done practically, but they truly were.

During post-production, Duke often used CGI to remove things rather than add them—such as erasing puppeteers, wire rigs, protruding controls, or other similar artifacts.

While busy with post-production, Duke had one other important task: receiving the media from China.