Webb essay runner up: Time to end poverty

Webb would deplore the inequality in Britain today.

If the twentieth century has taught us anything, it is that there are few constants in modern life. For every invention, discovery, and idea of the nineteenth century, the following century brought us thousands more. Rapid change and continuous innovation continues to shape the current century. Amidst these developments, however there remains one major constant - poverty. Descriptions of slums, mills and workhouses conjure up an image of another world, one we have left behind as we continue our march of progress to a better way of life, but antiquated terms such as the "destitute" and the "impoverished" have a frightening relevance in the UK today. Whilst the workhouses and slums might now have been confined to the history books, there is a real, living poverty in the UK which confronts us. Poverty represents a blot on the social and political landscape of "modern" times.

It is easy to imagine that if Beatrice Webb were alive today she would find it disappointing and yet somehow unsurprising that poverty still exists in Britain. Disappointing because although over a century has passed since individuals began to campaign for the eradication of poverty, poverty still exists. Unsurprising because the causes of poverty are woven deeply into the fabric of our social and economic structures. As the Webbs and their contemporaries highlighted, the idea that poverty is caused by weakness of character or individual moral failing is inaccurate. In The Prevention of Destitution the Webbs attacked popular conceptions of the poor which painted those in poverty as corrupt and flawed individuals. The false image of the poor criticised by the Webbs bears a striking resemblance to current caricatures of the "poor man" as a work-shy, undeserving idler belonging to some form of under-class. While there may always be cases which point to personal character being linked to poverty, it is largely a myth to claim that the poor bring poverty upon themselves. Poverty is the result of problems within the political and economic system and therefore we must turn to these systems to find the solutions.

The solutions will not be easy to find. Even the nature of the problem is difficult to define. Over the last hundred years or so there have been several attempts to survey the extent of poverty both at a regional and a national level. From Charles Booth's survey of working life in London, to the work of the Blair administration's Social Exclusion Unit; from Seebohm Rowntree's York studies to the Field Review, there have been numerous attempts to examine poverty and its causes. When approaching poverty in the twenty-first century we must first begin with some difficult questions. Is there one "type" of poverty or can we discuss many "poverties"? Does poverty start and end with economic circumstances? How should we measure "poverty of opportunity" or "cultural poverty"?

The poverty indicators currently used go some way to provide a clear picture of the extent of its existence in the UK. The English Indices of Deprivation used by the Department for Communities and Local Government are organised into seven domains: income, employment, health and disability, education and training, barriers to housing and services, living environment, and crime.

This approach to poverty, however, does not account for a variation in the "type" of poverty experienced by individuals or families. Nor does it encourage appreciation of the fact that poverty is not necessarily just about material deprivation. The lack of cultural stimulation or the lack of a sense of involvement also represents a form of poverty, even if the consequences of this deprivation are less serious (and less immediate) than economic deprivation. Therefore, if Beatrice Webb were to conduct an enquiry into UK poverty, she might examine a wider range of indicators.

It might be useful to organise these indicators into the following groupings: primary indicators relating to basic needs, indicators of social and economic barriers, and indicators linked to social inclusion. Obviously when analysing data relating to poverty it is difficult to draw any accurate conclusions relating to the causes of poverty. For example, if a person is living on a low income and they lack basic literacy and numeracy skills, is it their existing poverty which has led to their educational underachievement of is it their lack of academic skills which has contributed to their poverty? To attempt to understand patterns of poverty it might be necessary to measure the poverty indicators over two generations. This would also reveal any fluctuations in factors such as income.

Firstly, we could look at primary indicators which can be considered as being an individual's basic needs. What does a family or individual need to live sufficiently? These would include income, housing and health services. In terms of income, a survey would consider disposable income and would need to establish the nature of this income (wage, pension, benefit etc.), the security of this income (regularity of payments, fluctuations, conditions on receipt of income) and how income is spent (proportion on food, rent, bills and personal items). Questions related to housing would include housing needs (homelessness, fixed location, overcrowding), terms of residency (home ownership, mortgage, private sector rent, social housing), condition of housing (property type, central heating, sanitation facilities) and surrounding environment (facilities, neighbouring properties). Health would look at access to healthcare (NHS doctors, dentists), birth and mortality rates (low birth weight babies, premature infant/adult death), health conditions and mental illness. An additional indicator relating to nutrition might also be considered. Rowntree's studies of poverty in York placed a great emphasis on adult diet and this would be a useful indicator in measuring poverty in the UK today. Therefore, data relating to adult and infant calorie intake, malnutrition and balance within diets would also be considered.

Secondly, we might look at factors which act as social and economic barriers. This means issues which might prolong poverty and limit opportunities. What might prevent individuals and families from being lifted out of poverty? Education, employment experience and access to services would fall into this category. Educational yardsticks could be academic qualifications (school education, post compulsory education, literacy, numeracy and computing skills) and professional qualifications (vocational qualifications). Employment would include a measure of whether an individual has access to work experience and to pathways into professions (careers guidance, work placements/internships, someone to provide job references). Attention would also be directed towards the access to services which allow individuals to take advantage of opportunities (car ownership, childcare provision, holding a bank account). Several key questions need to be asked. Does low educational achievement lead to unemployment, and consequently to poverty? Or, does poverty lead to low educational achievement? If a young person's family members do not work in a profession such as teaching or medicine is it more or less likely that the young person themselves will be excluded from these professions? Does a young person whose parents/guardians own and drive a car stand a better chance of being a car owner themselves in the future?

Finally, a survey might consider factors relating to inclusivity. This includes factors which might exclude individuals from taking a full part in society. Having a good quality of life goes beyond living sufficiently: it involves feeling part, and being able to be part of wider society. Often those living in poverty experience barriers which prevent them from participating in this sense. Indicators of this type of poverty might include the lack of computer/internet access, lack of technology (white electronic goods, telephones, a television), a lack of disposable income to spend on personal goods and leisure activities, or being unable to afford to keep a pet. Whilst these factors might be considered luxuries, it is surely the case that any form of deprivation should be described as a barrier which prevents full participation in social life. This is, therefore, a form of cultural poverty. Particularly in the modern age, the lack of a television or computer not only limits opportunities but also puts an individual at a disadvantage by denying them access to services, learning and entertainment.

These factors are obviously interrelated. But it is clear that the primary needs of an individual (income, housing and health) ought to be given more weight in any measure of poverty. The lack of one of these factors can often cause barriers (educational and employment) and lead to social exclusion. Take the example of a child living in an overcrowded house. A lack of space may impact upon sleep or hygiene, which in turn might have an impact upon schoolwork or homework. This might lead to the child being unable to fulfil their educational potential which might lead to a lack of future employment. Of course this is not always the case, but it easy to see how the failure to meet the basic needs of an individual can set in motion a chain of problems which might limit opportunities in other areas.

A factor which must be considered when exploring these indicators is choice. Surely part of living a "good life" means having the ability to choose? An essential part of being human involves having the right to make decisions for one's self. Having the ability to make choices and be master of your own life is psychologically vital as it empowers the individual. Therefore, being denied this right can often make an individual feel vulnerable, worthless and socially disenfranchised. Often those in poverty are denied choice. Whereas one person might choose between two career paths, another does not have the luxury of choosing but merely has to settle for the job which puts bread on the table. Whereas one family might agonise over which area to live in, another settles merely for bricks and mortar, hardly deserving of being called a home. Whereas the dilemna for one person might be which of the latest songs to download, for another person the choice is whether to spend that money on the download at all, or on a pint of milk. Patently the latter in each case is no choice at all.

Now here is the most difficult task. How to place the spotlight on poverty? How to put poverty at the top of the political agenda? The problem lies with the fact that public and political opinion is guided largely by a group of individuals who have hardly experienced disadvantage let alone true hardship. It is always galling to hear "the haves" telling "the have-nots" how to live their lives and listen to them arguing that underprivileged are architects of their own misery. Worse still is the way in which the "haves" encourage the condemnation of those in poverty by painting them as a monstrous scourge, almost an entirely different species, quite separate from the "hard-working" majority. Nobody chooses poverty. Nobody deserves to live in poverty. What is more, nobody dreams of actually being in employment but living poverty.

In order to tackle the issue of poverty, it is first necessary to counter the trend towards a resurrection of the nineteenth-century politics of individualism. Support provided to those in poverty ought not to be conditional in the sense that society will only help those who are willing to help themselves. The individual alone can do little to improve their situation without there being some significant change to social and economic structures.

The poverty index described could be used in two ways: it would draw attention to the flaws in current perceptions of poverty and it would highlight the specific areas in which the current support mechanisms are failing.

A survey into the nature, level and security of incomes would undoubtedly reveal that many of those living in poverty are not "scroungers" and in fact they make every effort to work to earn a living. Poverty is not confined to the jobless - many working families live in poverty and struggle to maintain homes and feed children. Clearly individual drive or motivation to work is not the problem. The failure lies in the wage system. How can it be fair that an individual who works still does not have enough to live on? The solution is obvious: the minimum wage should be substituted for a decent living wage.

An examination of housing provision would also expel the ridiculous assumption that those on lower incomes are given housing "freebies". Such ideas are merely borne out of ignorance. Many families have housing needs that are unmet. Many individuals have no fixed residence. Often individuals live without basic facilities such as showers and heating. Only by understanding the nature of current housing provision can the public and politicians begin to accommodate the need for affordable and good quality housing. A survey of housing would allow central and local government to work with housing associations, charities and the construction industry to focus their attention on the most pressing needs of individuals.

Assessment of education and employment would also help counter the many generalisations made about the motivations and aspirations of those living in poverty. It would demonstrate that the reasons many are on low incomes have little to do with a lack of education or a lack of employment-based skills. Also, it might reveal that where educational achievement is lower than expected, this is caused by a lack of financial resources or the lack of an adequate learning environment at home. Surely the problem is not a lack of personal motivation? It is the responsibility of the education system and employers to nurture an individual. Giving a person an opportunity of learning a new skill or developing existing ones can often make all the difference. Poverty is often the result of a failure to recognise and tend to the needs and talents of an individual.

If Beatrice Webb were alive today she would find that although the nature of poverty may have changed over the last century, it is perhaps just as prevalent. It is a shameful fact that whilst one sector of our society has experienced greater prosperity and opportunity than ever before, another group continues to experience a hardship which parallels a Victorian era we claim to have left behind. In years to come the question to ask should not be "How can we measure, and promote the issue of poverty?", but rather "What have we done to help bring an end to poverty?"

 

 

This article first appeared in the 02 January 2012 issue of the New Statesman, And you thought 2011 was bad ...

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Starting Star Wars: How George Lucas came to create a galaxy

On the 40th anniversary of the release of the original Star Wars, George Lucas biographer James Cooray Smith shares the unlikely story of how the first film got made.

While making THX 1138 in 1970, writer/director George Lucas told composer Lalo Schifrin that he wanted to make a Flash Gordon picture, an updating of the 40s sci-fi serials that he’d enjoyed as a child. It would, however, be those serials not as they were, but how he remembered them as having been. When the rights to these proved unavailable, he began to work on original idea, hoping to create something similar, but which he would own himself.

In January 1973, after completing his 50s nostalgia picture American Graffiti but before its release, Lucas began his outline for this space adventure. The first line of this near-incomprehensible document was The Story of Mace Windu. Mace Windu, a revered Jedi-Bendu of Opuchi who was related to Usby CJ Thape, Padewaan learner to the famed Jedi.’

"Jedi" was a word Lucas had coined to describe a clan of warrior mystics who were essential to his story. A man whose fascination for Japanese cinema had become a general interest in Japanese cultural history, he’d named them after the branch of Japanese drama that drew moral and instructive lessons from stories set in the past – Jidai geki.

This version is set in the thirty-third century and features a teenage Princess, droids, an Evil Empire and a grizzled Jedi warrior, General Skywalker, whose plot role resembles Luke’s from the finished film, although his character is Obi-Wan Kenobi’s. It climaxes with a space dogfight and ends with a medal ceremony. Among the planets named are Alderaan (here the Imperial capital) and Yavin, at this point the Wookiee homeworld. Some characters from this draft (Valorum, Mace Windu) would eventually find a home in The Phantom Menace more than twenty years later.

By May Lucas had a 132 page script, The Adventure of Anikin Starkiller. Skywalker had acquired the forename Luke but was no longer the protagonist. This was Anikin (sic) Starkiller, one of the sons of General Skywalker’s old comrade, the partially mechanical renegade Kane Starkiller. Anikin had to protect a Princess, aided by two robots R2-D2 and C-3PO.

Lucas had worked backwards from Flash Gordon, looking to uncover the source of his appeal, hoping to transfer it to his own story. Once he’d worked his way through the comic strips of Gordon’s creator Alex Raymond, he tackled Edgar Rice Burroughs, Jules Verne and Edwin Arnold’s Gulliver on Mars. Conversations with his New Hollywood peers about the archetypes thrown up by his reading – and which he increasingly saw everywhere – brought him into contact with Joseph Campbell’s then newly published Myths to Live By (1972) an anthology of lectures and essays from a man who devoted his career to identifying the basic archetypal characters and situations which he felt underpinned all human mythologies.

"The book began to focus what I had already been doing intuitively" Lucas later said, an idea which seemed to him to itself reinforce Campbell’s contention that such archetypes and situations dwelled in a collective unconsciousness. Lucas expanded his reading to epics of all kinds, and began planning a visual style that would combine the vistas of Japanese master director Akira Kurosawa with the kind of static-camera realism which he’d used on American Graffiti.

Lucas wanted over-exposed colours and lots of shadows, but shot in a way that made them seem unremarkable. Seeing the Apollo missions return from the moon "littered with weightless candy bar wrappers and old Tang jars, no more exotic than the family station wagon" had illustrated to him the problem with every fantasy movie ever made. Their worlds never looked like people lived in them. His film would depict a "used future". Describing the aesthetic he’d sought to American Cinematographer he explained: "I wanted the seeming contradiction of…fantasy combined with the feel of a documentary."  To Lucas Star Wars wasn’t science fiction, it was "documentary fantasy".

There was only one studio executive Lucas thought had any hope of understanding what he was trying to do, Fox’s Alan Ladd Jr, son of the late actor. Like Lucas and his contemporaries in New Hollywood, Ladd was a man driven by a love of cinema. Lucas could communicate with him through a shared vocabulary, describe a planned scene as being like something from The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) or Fahrenheit 451 (Francois Truffaut, 1966) and be understood. Ten days after his presentation to Ladd, they signed a development deal. Fox agreed to pay Lucas $15,000 to develop a script, plus $50,000 to write the movie and another $100,000 to direct it, should it actually be made. American Graffiti associate producer Gary Kurtz was named as Producer for Star Wars, and received $50,000.

The script development money gave Lucas enough to live on whilst he continued work on the screenplay. As he did so it changed again; a ‘Kiber Crystal’ was written in and then written out. Skywalker became Deak Starkiller’s overweight younger brother before becoming the farm boy familiar from the finished film. Characters swapped names and roles. A new character named Darth Vader – sometimes a rogue Jedi, sometimes a member of the rival ‘Knights of Sith’ – had his role expanded. Some drafts killed him during the explosion of the Death Star, others allowed him to survive; across subsequent drafts his role grew. Some previously major characters disappeared altogether, pushed into a "backstory", Lucas choosing to develop the practically realisable aspects of his story.

This is an important clarification to the idea that Star Wars was "always" a part of a larger saga, one later incarnated in its sequels and prequels. That’s true, but not in an absolutely literal way. Star Wars itself isn’t an excerpted chunk of a vast plotline, the rest of which was then made over the next few decades. It’s a distillation of as much of a vast, abstract, unfinished epic as could be pitched as a fairly cheap film to be shot using the technology of the mid 1970s. And even then much of the equipment used to make the film would be literally invented by Lucas and his crew during production.

In August 1973 Graffiti was released and became a box office sensation, not only did the profits make Lucas rich (he became, at 29, a millionaire literally overnight) its success meant that Lucas was able to renegotiate the terms of his Fox deal. Rather than making demands in the traditional arenas of salary and percentages Lucas wanted control of the music, sequel and merchandising rights to his creations. Fox conceded him 60 per cent of the merchandising, aware of its potential value to them, but eventually agreed that Lucas’s share would rise by 20 per cent a year for two years after the film’s release. Few films made money from spin-off products for a whole 24 months, and Star Wars would surely be no different. Lucas got the sequel rights as well, albeit with the proviso that any sequel had to be in production within two years of the film’s release or all rights would revert to Fox.

Most important amongst Lucas’ demands was that, if it went ahead, he wanted the film to be made by his own company, not by Fox. That way he could control the budget and ensure all charges and costs made to the production were legitimately spent on the film. The experience of watching Mackenna’s Gold being made while a student on placement a decade earlier had taught him just how much money a studio could waste, and on a film like Star Wars – which was both ambitious and would inevitably be under-budgeted – it was crucial that this did not happen. Control of the music rights also had a sound reason behind it. Universal were making a fortune out of an American Graffiti soundtrack that was simply a repackaging of old hits featured in the movie. Of the profits of this Lucas saw nothing despite having selected the tracks featured and fought long and hard for their inclusion in his film.

In March 1975, Ladd took Lucas’ draft to the Fox board. They passed it and budgeted the film at $8.5m. Characters bounced in and out of that script right up to the preparation of the shooting draft, dated 15 January 1976. This was tailored to be as close to the film’s proposed budget as possible, and contain as many of the ideas, characters and situations Lucas had spent the past few years developing as he considered feasible.

This draft is the first version of the script in which Kenobi dies fighting Vader. Previously he had been injured, but escaped with Luke’s party. Alec Guinness, who had already been cast, was initially unhappy with this change, but was persuaded by Lucas that a heroic death followed by appearances as a spectral voice would prove more memorable to audiences than his spending the last third of the film sitting on Yavin whilst the X-Wings went into battle.

Filming began on location in Tozeur, Tunisia on 22 March 1976. Before shooting Lucas sat his crew down and made them watch four films which he felt between them defined what he was after in Star Wars. Stanley Kubrick’s 2001 (1969), Douglas Trumbull’s 1975 Silent Running, Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time In the West and Fellini’s Satyricon (Both 1969). The Leone picture was full of the sun-blasted vistas Lucas wanted to evoke for Tatooine, and the Fellini film, with its aspects of travelogue and attempts to portray an entire society in a fly-on-the-wall manner gave an idea of the "documentary fantasy" approach the director was so keen on. All four films shared one vital element: they’re windows onto lived-in worlds remarkable to audiences but regarded as ordinary by the film’s characters.

The first scenes shot for Star Wars were those of Luke buying Artoo and Threepio from the Jawas outside his foster parents’ home. Producer Kurtz had allowed 11 days for the shoot, after that a borrowed army C130 Hercules was scheduled to pick up the cast and crew.

A few days into shooting, creature make-up man Stuart Freeborn was taken ill and had to be flown back to Britain where he was diagnosed with pneumonia. Other crew members contracted dysentery. On 26 March Tunisia experienced its first winter rainstorm for half a century, damaging equipment and exterior sets delaying filming of key scenes.

Lucas wanted the stormtroopers to ride ‘dewbacks’, dinosaur-like domesticated beasts that allowed the troops to move across the desert. One dewback was built, out of foam rubber stretched over a wire frame. It could only be used in the background and no one was ever seen riding one. The other live animal Lucas wanted to portray was a Bantha, a huge horned, shaggy beast reminiscent of a prehistoric mammoth. It was to be the mode of transport for the Tusken Raiders, faintly Bedouin, vaguely mechanically-enhanced humanoids who attacked Luke in the Jundland wastes. In the end, creating the beasts proved impossible, and while they were referred to in dialogue in scenes that were shot (‘bantha tracks…’) none of their sequences were lensed.

As hard as the shoot was on Lucas, he at least had an idea of what he was trying to do and how it would all fit together. The actors, suffering stomach troubles, sunburn and long days, were less clear. Anthony Daniels trapped inside an almost immovable fibreglass body suit suffered the worst. Twenty five years later he would give credit for helping him to get through the Tunisia filming to Alec Guinness. "He was incredibly kind to me…I firmly believe that I wouldn’t have completed that arduous task of shooting without him."

Once the Tunisian shoot was over, the cast moved to EMI Elstree Studios in Borehamwood, outside of London. Star Wars was being made in the UK because it wasn’t possible to shoot the film in Hollywood at that time, not that Lucas – with his lifelong disdain of LA itself – wanted to anyway. Star Wars required nine stages simultaneously, something that no Hollywood studio complex could guarantee at anything like sufficient notice. In March 1975 producer Kurtz had flown to Italy to look at studio space, but found nothing suitable. He then caught a plane to London, where Lucas joined him.

Together they scouted UK film studios. Pinewood was a possibility, but management insisted Lucasfilm hire their technicians, a condition which became a deal-breaker. Neither Shepperton nor Twickenham had enough sound stages (although the giant Stage H at Shepperton  - bigger than any stage at Elstree – would ultimately house one scene of the film) which left only EMI Elstree. Then losing £1 million a year, Elstree was being kept open more or less on the insistence of Harold Wilson’s government, whose allies in the Trades Union movement considered the closing of the facility unconscionable. Elstree had no staff, and anyone who wished to rent it had to supply their own technicians and much of their own equipment. Off-putting to many, it sealed the deal for Lucas and Kurtz, who wanted to move their own people in. They hired the facility for seventeen weeks starting at the beginning of March 1976.

To design and build the sets needed to turn to Elstree into a realisation of Lucas’s screenplay they hired John Barry, a British designer who had worked under Ken Adam on Barry Lyndon (Stanley Kubrick, 1975) a film Lucas admired enough to hire its costumier John Rollo as well.

Elstree’s two largest stages were given over to Mos Eisley Spaceport and the interior of the Death Star. Both the Mos Eisley hangar bay and the one inside the Death Star which replaced it on the same stage were constructed around the full size Millennium Falcon set created by John Barry’s protege Norman Reynolds. Built by Naval engineers at Pembroke Dock, Wales it was 65 feet in diameter, 16 feet high and 80 feet long. It weighed 23 tonnes.

The absence of Stuart Freeborn, still recovering from Tunisia, meant that most of the aliens seen in the Mos Eisley cantina sequence were completed by assistants and lacked any articulation at all. Unhappy with the scenes as shot, Lucas resolved to do to re-shoots back in the USA.

The last scenes to be shot were for the opening battle, as Vader and his stormtroopers boarded the blockade runner. With little time Lucas used six cameras, manning one himself (Kurtz manned another) and shot the sequence in two takes. The six cameras produced so many different perspectives on the action that even the duplicated events that are in the film are unnoticeable. The finished sequence, chaotic though the creation of it was, is amongst the best put together moments in the movie, a superb evocation of Lucas’ documentary fantasy approach, and the cameras dart in and out of the action like reporters shooting newsreel footage. Virtually the first live action seen in the picture, its style later went a long way towards convincing audiences that what they were seeing was somehow real.

Principal photography completed on 16 July 1976, although some re-shoots and pick up shots for the Tatooine sequences were undertaken in Yuma, Arizona in early 1977. Amongst those scenes shot were those featuring the Banthas. Lucas borrowed a trained elephant from Marine World, and had it dressed to resemble a more hirsute, fearsome pachyderm. Mark Hamill was unavailable to participate. He’d crashed his car of the Antelope Freeway in LA shortly before and was undergoing painful facial reconstructive surgery. Although Hamill should have been involved in the re-shoot, in scenes of Luke’s landspeeder moving across the desert, Lucas had no choice but to film them without him; he took a double to the shoot, dressed him in Luke’s costume and put Threepio in the foreground. Also re-shot, over two days in La Brea, California, were portions of the cantina sequence. New cutaways and background shots were filmed to be inserted into the Elstree footage in order to eliminate as of the unsatisfactory masks as possible.

While supervising editing of the film Lucas experienced chest pains, and was rushed to hospital where he was treated for a suspected heart attack. He was later diagnosed with hypertension and exhaustion, both exacerbated by his diabetes.

Fox were by now trying to book Star Wars into cinemas, and had picked a release date in May, long before the 4th July public holiday, long regarded as the opening weekend of summer. Fox wanted $10m in advance bookings for Star Wars, desperate to recoup an investment that internal studio sources had now decided was foolish. They secured less than $2m, and achieved that only by implying to theatres that they wouldn’t be offered Charles Jarrot’s much-anticipated The Other Side of Midnight if they didn’t sign up for Star Wars too. Before its release several exhibitors complained at this "block booking" and filed suits; Fox was later fined $25,000 for the practice, punished for forcing cinemas to agree to show something which was, by the time they paid the fine, the most financially successful movie ever made.

In early 1977 Lucas screened Star Wars for a group of friends, it was nearly finished – although the opening crawl was longer and many of the special effects shots were absent, represented instead by sequences from World War II films and real combat footage shot by the USAF. Among those present were Brian De Palma, Alan Ladd Jnr, Steven Spielberg and Jay Cocks. Martin Scorsese had been invited but troubles editing his own New York, New York meant he didn’t turn up.

De Palma hated Star Wars, and spent the post-screening dinner rubbishing it to anyone who would listen. Others present were unsurprised, De Palma had behaved in the same way during the group screening of Scorsese’s’ Taxi Driver; laughing loudly through Cybill Shepherd’s conversations with Robert de Niro, and at one point shouting "Shit!" halfway through a tense scene. Only Spielberg seemed impressed, and told Lucas that he thought Star Wars would take $100m. Lucas pointed out that nothing took $100m, and countered that Spielberg’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind would do better at the box office. The two directors wrote what they considered realistic estimations of what each other’s film would make in its first six months of release on the inside of matchbooks, which they then traded. By the time Lucas got round to opening Spielberg’s matchbook and saw the figure $33m in his friend’s scrawling hand Star Wars had already made ten times that.

Odd as it seems now, when every blockbuster is prefaced by months of breathless, unrelenting media "enthusiasm", Star Wars wasn’t released on a wave of hype or accompanied by an extensive marketing campaign. It was released (on 25 May 1977) to thirty-two screens, after a barely publicised premiere at Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. It made $2.8m in its opening week, but didn’t receive a nationwide release for two months. Despite almost unprecedented success in preview screenings, Fox were still unsure of what to do with Lucas’ bizarre children’s film. Indeed it, only got a Hollywood opening at all because William Friedkin’s Sorcerer – which had been intended for this slot at Mann’s – wasn’t finished.

So negative had advance feeling about Star Wars been that Lucas left the country; he was still in LA on opening day, finishing the sound edit (he was unhappy with the copy playing downtown, and unknowingly embarking on a lifetime of revising his movie) but the next day he and his wife (and Star Wars film editor) Marcia flew to Hawaii, where they were joined by friends, including Spielberg and Amy Irving. It was an attempt to escape what Lucas felt would be the inevitable terrible reviews and wrath of the studio. Even when Ladd called him to share his excitement over the movie’s colossal opening weekend, Lucas was unmoved; all movies labelled science fiction did well in their first few days due to the business attracted by the neglected fanbase for such things. It was only when the film continued to do outstanding business and was expanded to more and more theatres that Lucas considered returning early from his holiday, and began to realise that the film he’d just delivered had changed his life.

As "Star Wars" expanded into more cinemas, and people began to queue round the block to see it, shares in Fox climbed from well under $10.00 to $11.50 each; over the next three months the value rose to $24.62, nearly trebling in price, such was the film’s value to the embattled studio. It was a magnificent vindication for Alan Ladd Jr, who had more than once had to intervene to stop colleagues closing down the film’s production completely. He had never lost faith in Lucas and his bizarre idea, but he was virtually the only person employed by Fox itself who hadn’t.

Just a few weeks before, as the end of the financial year approached, Fox had tried, and failed, to sell its investment in Star Wars to a German merchant bank as an emergency pre-tax write off.

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