“Your friend is quite a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything... or anybody.” ~ Princess Leia, A New Hope
Hollywood films are full of heroes engaged in heroic journeys in the Campbellian sense of the phrase. Each protagonist follows a calling and is tested by the forces of evil as they seek to complete the quest that will fulfill their destiny. Without question, in the original trilogy of the Star Wars saga the protagonist and hero is Luke Skywalker, however much can also be learned by examining the character of Han Solo from a similar perspective.
Han plays a supporting role, pulling many of the Campbellian ingredients into Luke’s hero’s journey. He engineers the ‘rescue from without’ when he saves Luke in the trench battle. He brings in the ‘animal familiar’ in the form of Chewbacca. He shares ‘the belly of the whale’ with Luke in the Death Star trash compactor, and perhaps most importantly, he fills the role of shapeshifter – the archetypal character whose loyalties are ambiguous or changing. I believe his role in the original trilogy films is greater, though, than simply adding a few key ingredients to the monomyth mix.
Luke is clearly a hero in the traditional sense, with a story comprised of a departure, an initiation and a return. Han, in many ways is Luke’s antithesis; his anti-hero, yet as such he undergoes his own heroic transformation and follows his own unique path to redemption. This paper will focus on the ways Han portrays a literary anti-hero, while also touching on aspects of his own heroic journey.
Wikipedia gives us a solid working definition of the term “anti-hero” by explaining that this character “has some characteristics that are antithetical to those of the traditional hero” and that he “will perform acts generally deemed ‘heroic’ but will do so with methods, manners or intentions that may not be heroic.”1
When the audience is first introduced to Han there is nothing of the hero about him. We see a roguish pirate, pursued by dark forces and living on the fringes of society. As author Susan Mackey-Kallis defines the anti-hero, Han is “a protagonist who lacks the attributes that make a heroic figure, as nobility of mind and spirit, a life or attitude marked by action or purpose.” 2 Han is a brash self-centered braggart – all of which are normally off-putting personality traits – and he is concerned primarily with financial profit and how he might benefit from it. In his world, he is surrounded by people he can’t trust, people who would sell him out with very little reason. Ironically enough, these things are the very reason he finds our heroes of value and why he becomes of value to them.
Han’s identity as the anti-hero of the original trilogy is the primary reason so many fans were up in arms about the edits director George Lucas made in subsequent releases of A New Hope. Much as Clint Eastwood’s the Man with No Name (perhaps Hollywood’s best known anti-hero), Han Solo has no problem being the one to shoot first in a situation where his life is threatened. It is this innate ability to go about doing the right thing in the wrong way that is at the core of an anti-hero. Han has to shoot first to be true to - and perhaps even to define - his character. Changing his response to one of self-defense changes his character on a visceral level and removes the moral ambiguity he represents at this stage of the film.
Kal Bishop, author of an on-line series called “Screenwriting and the Hero’s Journey” writes “the difference between hero, anti-hero and other variations simply lies in situation, motivation and result.”3 The strongest point of contrast between Han and Luke initially is their motivation. Luke’s hero’s journey begins somewhat altruistically. He sets out to save a beautiful princess because, in the simplest terms, that is what heroes do. Han’s journey begins as he seeks money to save his own neck. It is marked by a complete lack of idealism and it is this lack that separates Han clearly from the wide-eyed wonder and naiveté that is Luke’s stock-in-trade.
As Han begins his journey with our hero we see him eschewing heroic concepts like spirituality or a belief in the greater good. He prefers luck and a good blaster to “hokey religions and ancient weapons.” He laughs derisively as he watches Luke practice with a lightsaber and takes his disdain a step further in his conversation with Obi-Wan Kenobi. It is in this conversation that he denies the concept of fate, saying “there’s no mystical energy field that controls my destiny.” Once again we see a clear delineation between Han’s principles and Luke’s.
Even after our party is captured by Imperials and learns that Princess Leia is being held prisoner nearby, Han has no inclination whatsoever to run to the aid of a damsel in distress. Luke pleads with Han to help him, insisting that if they don’t rescue her “she’ll be killed.” Han coldly replies “Better her than me.” This scene is the first, and perhaps the best, example to illustrate Han’s total devotion to himself. He doesn’t agree to help until Luke appeals to his selfish motives by pointing out that there will be tremendous financial gain to whoever rescues Leia.
Once the party has rescued the princess and reaches the rebel base, Han is quick to grab his promised reward and depart. He leaves Luke behind, disappointed by his new friend’s refusal to stay and fight for the noble cause. As a parting shot, Luke tells the older man to “take are of yourself, Han, but I guess that’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?” The audience, too, is taken off-guard by Han’s decision to leave the rebels in their hour of need. By that point they’ve come to care about the character despite his lack of heroic tendencies and his leaving fills them with a sense of disbelief. It is precisely this leaving that reaffirms Han’s position as the anti-hero.
It isn’t until the last few minutes of the trench battle that Han’s first step on the road to redemption becomes apparent. One of the highest points in the original trilogy is the moment where Vader’s tie fighter is blasted and spins off into space just before we see the familiar outline of the Millennium Falcon. This is our affirmation that Han is more than just an opportunist out to feed his own interests. The elation this turn of events inspires and the subsequent medal ceremony might lead us to believe that Han has already changed his selfish ways, however, in the opening of the next film we find him once-again determined to leave the rebel forces when they desperately need him.
While the truth is that Han must clear his name to avoid being killed, Leia sees this departure as a return to his former life as a smuggler. She treats him as if he is deliberately turning his back on his new friends and their cause. To some extent that is true. Noble as the cause of the Rebels is and as badly as he is needed, Han is still determined to look out for himself first. Han, in his own self-centered way, understands that Leia cares about him. Even so, her love isn’t sufficient motivation to keep him there, which is a stark contrast to the heroic, unwavering devotion Luke displays.
Han’s transformation from anti-hero into hero begins in earnest when the Imperials attack the Rebel Base on Hoth. Once the assault begins Han does not simply leave as he said he would. He goes back after Leia, much to her surprise. In this fashion, Han has taken up Luke’s hero’s gauntlet, saving the Princess because it is the right thing to do. Perhaps, on some level, he is aware that he loves her even if he hasn’t admitted it to her or to himself. Even then he does not abandon his plan to leave the rebels. He insists he will follow through once he’s seen Leia safely to her own ship. Of course, in good dramatic form, these plans are thwarted and he is forced to take her with him
The next leg of the journey in Han’s story is crucial as we watch the movie’s heroine, Leia, battle with her romantic interest in this character. Ultimately she will be forced to admit that she loves Han despite the qualities he possesses which aren’t particularly heroic. In one particular exchange, she admits to liking him when he isn’t acting like a scoundrel. He insists that she likes him because he is a scoundrel. On some level, he recognizes that Leia is attracted to him because he isn’t noble or heroic. This is an odd turn for the film to take… the romantic triumph of a scoundrel over a traditional hero, yet even before she knows Luke is her brother, she clearly prefers Han.
In the subsequent scenes we see Han evading the Imperials through a series of clever maneuvers that land him in the lap of an old friend and ally, Lando Calrissian. Once again, the anti-hero’s archetype is fulfilled. As Kal Bishop puts it, “where the hero’s allies will come to his aid, the anti-hero’s allies will betray.”4 No place is this more evident than when we are surprised by Lando Calrissian’s defection. In truth, this is Han’s shady past catching up to him as he is passed into the hands of the very bounty hunters he has avoided since the original trilogy’s outset.
It is worth noting, that even before he is handed over to the bounty hunter Han still planned to leave Leia and the rebels. Leia said it best when Han was reassuring her that they would soon be on their way when she replied “well, then, you’re as good as gone, aren’t you?” His responding silence is typically taken as agreement. Particularly telling is the scene in the carbon freeze chamber when, at the eleventh hour, Leia admits her love. Rather than replying in kind he chooses to continue his anti-hero’s isolation.
At what point does Han become more hero than an anti-hero? To determine this we need to consider at what point he loses those traits that make him an anti-hero, most especially, his self-centered nature and his self-imposed isolation.
Some might feel Han loses his true isolation the moment he turns the Falcon around and goes back to fight in the first Death Star battle. I don’t think this takes place until he truly accepts his place in his new circle of friends, shortly after his rescue from Jabba’s Palace in Return of the Jedi. It isn’t until after that point that Han eases into in his new roles: that of Leia’s love and a rebel hero. It could be that it is only when his friends rescue him from the Jabba’s palace that Han begins to realize the depth of their caring. This is especially true about Leia. Despite the objections she raised about Han leaving the rebellion when he was most needed, she herself didn’t hesitate to put everything else on hold to go and rescue him. After all the saving Han had done, he is finally the one his friends rush to save. With so many years of self-imposed isolation behind him, that fact can’t be lost on him. Once he realizes how much his friends care about him, what they would sacrifice to save him, then he finally understands that he truly is no longer alone. In a sense, he is reborn and is now free of the darker aspects of his past.
Even after he gains this understanding, he is reluctant to shed his selfish, scoundrel façade. It is possible that he truly is afraid Leia loves him only because he is a scoundrel. Perhaps he is reluctant to show her the new, more responsible side of his nature. Midway through Return of the Jedi Leia, despite being a ranking leader in the rebel forces, is surprised by the news that Han is now a General and intends to lead a strike team on the very dangerous mission to capture Endor’s forest moon. Clearly Han is as reluctant to advertise his newfound heroic tendencies as he is to openly profess his love for Leia.
On the forest moon this tide changes. Leia disappears during a high speed chase and once Han is reunited with her their relationship is markedly different. He no longer approaches her with sarcasm. We see flashes of his selfish nature the moment he turns away from her while she reels from the shock of learning Luke is her brother. The audience, used to Han’s self-centered reactions, is surprised but elated when he deliberately squashes this impulse to turn back to her and offer comfort.
In Archbishop Lazar Puhalo’s paper on Star Wars, he writes that “The main hero-anti-hero of the series, Han Solo, is reformed and gradually converted to nobility by the direct influence of Luke Skywalker's moral purity and self-sacrificing love.”5 While Luke’s influence is critical, I feel Han’s conversion was due at least in equal measure to Leia Organa. The basic plot – an anti-hero being redeemed by love - comes close to mirroring the story of one of the first literary anti-heroes, Dostoevsky’s underground man. This anti-hero was sarcastic and desperate, lacking a fundamental belief in the good of mankind. He became involved with a prostitute, then hypocritically lectured her about her lifestyle, then gave her his own address to invite further contact. She sought him out again but refused the money he tried to give her. In the end, his eyes were opened by her love and her nobility of spirit.6
Han is not in any way as repulsive a figure as Dostoevsky’s character, but he is the same kind of paradox and we are clearly meant to question him from the outset. Han is meant to confuse us right up to the moment when we recognize that he has become a hero. Han’s overall role in the saga is even more critical than this. His primary purpose, I believe, is to do what anti-heroes do best, to give the audience a character to identify with directly. John Fitch explains this well when he writes that “The anti-hero is often a reluctant savior – one that we follow and adore in spite of his own fallibility and his fundamentally flawed human nature.”7
Author Victor Brombert takes it a step further and claims “The negative hero, more keenly perhaps than the traditional hero, challenges our assumptions, raising anew the question of how we see, or wish to see ourselves.”8 The audience identifies on a more personal level with an anti-hero than a hero because his flaws make him believable and real to us. In other words, in Star Wars, Luke Skywalker is an ideal. He is the hero we all want to be, whereas Han Solo is the hero we’re convinced we could be.
Han’s redemption underlines the heroism in the story. He shows conflicts between individual and collective values. He has resisted conformity, both by leaving the Empire (or so we are told) and by being reluctant to join the rebellion. He radically questions authority. He critiques rationalism and traditional values. He represents the common man who raises himself up to a place where ideals have value. He is redeemed by love and by his own choices. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, he reaffirms the human spirit in terms of resilience and tenacity.
For Luke Skywalker and Han Solo, the difference between the culminations of their journeys is significant. Luke becomes a true hero in the Campbellian sense by fulfilling his destiny. Han Solo finds the home his heart has been searching for and achieves a moral victory that makes him a better man. Both heroes are victorious and the audience cheers for both, but the latter is a more intimate victory, one that common man can relate to on a personal level.
Works Cited:
1. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-hero)
2. Mackey-Kallis, Susan. The Hero and the Perennial Journey Home in American Film. University of Pennsylvania Press.
Philadelphia. 2001. p. 91
3. Bishop, Kal. “Screenwriting and Hero’s Journey – Contrasting the Hero with the Anti-hero,”
<http://ezinearticles.com/?Screenwrting-and-Heros-Journey---Contrasting-the-Hero-with-the-AntiHero&id=85602>
4. Bishop, et. al.
5. Puhalo, Lazar. “Star Wars: Another Point of View” <http://www.new-ostrog.org/starwars.html/> previously printed in
“The Canadian Orthodox Missionary” 1984.
6. Dostoevsky, Fyodor. (translated by Ralph E. Matlaw). Notes from the Underground. New York. Dutton. 1960.
7. Fitch, John III. “Archetypes on the American Screen: Heroes and Anti-Heroes.” Journal of Religion and Popular Culture.
v. 7. Summer 2004. <http://www.usask.ca/relst/jrpc/art7-archetypes-print.html>
8. Brombert, Victor. In Praise of Antiheroes: Figures and themes in Modern European Literature. University of Chicago Press.
Chicago. 1999. p. 2
