There are a lot of activities that I do to fill the cataclysmic dread that consumes my early twenties: reading, journaling, staring at a wall, etc. But none have come quite close to the joy of spiraling after attending a double feature of Pride & Prejudice and Revenge of the Sith on a Monday morning.
I am not sure what amazing deed I did in my past life to deserve the karmic fate of two of my favorite movies celebrating their 20th anniversary in theaters in the same week, but I about cried as I put my credit card details into the Fandango app and booked a considerably long visit at the local AMC (roughly 4 hours).
Although I certainly could have used that 24 dollars (plus another 15 for popcorn and a Coke Zero, obviously), to buy, I don’t know, fresh produce or something, there was something primal in my need to see both on the silver screen again. Thus, I adorned myself with my comfiest clothes and my light blue Crocs and drove to the movie theater where I would spend the last of my disposable income and subsequently find my inner child again.
At first, I meant to enjoy the movies as two separate entities: my fantasy/war fix and then my romance fix. But, alas, my mind is a prison and incapable of watching anything casually. So, after a long afternoon in the theater, I sat on my couch and I spiraled. On the outside, there aren’t many similarities between the two movies: one discusses the heartbreaking origin of one of the film industry’s most notorious villains, while the other details the story of two people lowering their walls and falling in love. While it is almost laughable to compare the stakes in Pride & Prejudice to Revenge of the Sith, the core conflict of both movies really does boil down to the same two vices.
(1) Pride
(2) Prejudice
You may be asking yourself, dear reader, pride and prejudice are often the downfall of many a character, why is it especially relevant to compare these two virtually unrelated movies? One, because I saw them the same day, and two, because the films are strikingly similar in both the individual’s characterization as well as the different plot devices.
Now, I welcome you to the chaos that is Pride & Prejudice & Sith Lords.
Anakin Skywalker, meet your twin, Elizabeth Bennett
Before any macho man or Anakin apologist tries to maim me for comparing the two, let’s look at the remarkably long list of similarities.
Headstrong, passionate, loyal, independent, fearless, rebellious
They aren’t similar in adjectives alone, but also in the way that they move the plot along.
Pride & Prejudice revolves around the life of an unmarried Elizabeth Bennett as she navigates the nuances of love and affection. She meets Mr. Darcy for the first time at a party and then overhears him say some, albeit negative, remarks about her to his friend Mr. Bingley. Prejudiced by her first encounter with him, Elizabeth goes on to assume every negative rumor and word spoken against him as true.
A brilliant example of this is Elizabeth’s incense at Mr. Wickham’s excommunication from the Darcy estate. It is reasonable not to really question the word of someone spilling their tragic backstory, because, well, why would they lie (for sex appeal, of course). But the degree to which Elizabeth grew enraged at Mr. Darcy was kind of superfluous. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for righteous anger and basic human empathy, however, she knew both men for literally the same amount of time and bestowed upon one the benefit of the doubt and the other staunch loathing. I am a hater, and I’ll be a hater to my dying day, but even I can admit that there is no merit to starting fights with a man that you barely know in support of another man that you barely know. It is almost as if this one trinket of information gave her permission to outwardly and justifiably hate Mr. Darcy.
Now onto the Revenge of the Sith side of the coin. Throughout the entirety of the prequels, Anakin Skywalker has a tumultuous relationship with the Jedi Council. I am by no means trying to suggest that Anakin’s frustration towards the council is in any way unwarranted. Truthfully, if I were him, I would have defected from the order in pure spite. But, much like with Elizabeth Bennett, Anakin’s hesitation towards the council does not and will not be applied to Chancellor Palpatine, even though Palpatine is in the same position as the Jedi Council to take advantage of him. Anakin unwaveringly believes in Palpatine until he literally spills his evil guts to Anakin, and even then, Anakin still chooses Palpatine’s side.
It is as if the distrust of one fuels the trust of the other. Prejudice is dichotomous and illogical. It blinds you from obtaining an objective perspective. Certainly, both Elizabeth and Anakin have sufficient reasons to resent Mr. Darcy and the Jedi Council respectively, but that resentment is no indicator of trust with those who share the same resentment. Every person must be judged impartially and individually. Elizabeth and Anakin’s fall happened simply because they could not comprehend their perception being polarized (I dislike Person A, so they must be evil; Person B reaffirms my dislike, so Person B must be good).
Both Elizabeth Bennett and Anakin Skywalker rely on their prejudices to make decisions which, in turn, force them to fall on their lightsabers.
Pride Held in Traditions
Pride is often associated with an unwillingness to change, and, what is typically the most unwilling to change: old institutions.
Though Mr. Darcy is not an old institution himself, he is a part of the British Aristocracy, and fairly highly placed at that. His birthright is respect, wealth, and admiration. His perceived social superiority should only be amplified in being in the small county of Hertfordshire. Mr. Darcy should be, relatively, untouchable. To our rebellious heroine, however, strength of estate matters far less than strength of character. Thus, Mr. Darcy is forced to reflect on the perception of his actions and explain his intentions in a way that he might never have done before.
On the other side, the Jedi Council is less willing to examine their own actions. The Jedi have historically been known to be morally good. They are the peacekeepers. As such, their motives have not really been questioned. However, every person is capable of evil, and no order is beyond corruption. Anakin, with Palpatine’s questionable guidance, begins to consider the Jedi as potentially hostile to the Republic that he has fought so valiantly to save. His reluctance to believe in the Jedi council stems from his lived experience of being ostracized. Essentially, the Jedi Council is begging Anakin to distrust them. The pride of being a Jedi, of being a Jedi so revered that they are put in the council, fogs the necessity to show grace and to feel empathy.
Where Mr. Darcy and the Jedi Council differ is in their reaction to blatant scrutiny. Mr. Darcy responds to anger with explanation. He loves Elizabeth and is willing to set aside his pride to admit his wrongs. He gently explains his perspective and leaves her to do with that information what she will. The Jedi Council discards Anakin’s hurt. They assume they are indubitably right.
Final Thoughts
Really, if only Mr. Darcy were in the Jedi Council, then maybe the tragedies of Star Wars would have been prevented. Mr. Darcy can prevent Anakin’s fall, but could the Jedi Council ever be bewitched body and soul? I don’t think so.
Now, dear readers, I posit some final questions to you all: At what point was Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth’s happy fate sealed? And, at what point was Anakin’s fate doomed?
Young Schmuck 
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