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It's an older code, sir, but it checks out
Tonight I had vague thoughts of writing about Die Hard (1988), which ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks and I saw earlier this evening at the Brattle, and I really need to get Chicago Calling (1951) out of my brain because it upset me, but at the moment I am just going to marvel that Admiral Piett fandom has finally gone mainstream. I realized in 2006 that it wasn't just me, but I hadn't realized it was also The Atlantic. I think it's the shadows under Kenneth Colley's eyes. The character as written is part of a plot device, a demonstration of the power and cruelty of Darth Vader. He gets maybe thirty lines of dialogue across two movies; he doesn't have to be anyone. Imperial officers don't have a great track record for personality. He might be as ruthless as Tarkin's cohort in the first movie or as stupidly arrogant as his late superior, a true believer or an opportunist or just wallpaper. Colley's tight face and wary eyes make him sympathetic. He doesn't have to say anything to look slightly haunted even before his promotion, like someone who isn't sure if today's agenda includes Force-choking or not; he only gets sharper-faced and more sleepless as he goes. "So goes life in the Empire: There's plenty of upward mobility, but job turnover is high, and workplace safety truly abysmal." It doesn't matter that we never see him do anything other than behave with the expected efficiency regarding his duties and his crew and an understandably petrified politeness around Vader, he complicates the dystopia just by not being faceless. (And not dying, even when he expects to—moments after he assured Vader its hyperdrive was deactivated, the Millennium Falcon streaks into stars and the expression on Colley's face as his spooky commander sweeps out of the room isn't so much the expected relief as blank bafflement at still breathing.) I note that even The Atlantic wants to give him more time in the story: "It's fun to imagine a strange Rosencrantz and Guildenstern-like saga playing out in the background as Piett manages the vast civil service of a galactic dictatorship while fielding orders from Vader and his Emperor." I am basically delighted.
In honor of the occasion, please enjoycucumberseed's "The Love Song of Admiral Piett." It's still the best film criticism/T.S. Eliot parody I know. Character actors forever.
rushthatspeaks and I saw earlier this evening at the Brattle, and I really need to get Chicago Calling (1951) out of my brain because it upset me, but at the moment I am just going to marvel that Admiral Piett fandom has finally gone mainstream. I realized in 2006 that it wasn't just me, but I hadn't realized it was also The Atlantic. I think it's the shadows under Kenneth Colley's eyes. The character as written is part of a plot device, a demonstration of the power and cruelty of Darth Vader. He gets maybe thirty lines of dialogue across two movies; he doesn't have to be anyone. Imperial officers don't have a great track record for personality. He might be as ruthless as Tarkin's cohort in the first movie or as stupidly arrogant as his late superior, a true believer or an opportunist or just wallpaper. Colley's tight face and wary eyes make him sympathetic. He doesn't have to say anything to look slightly haunted even before his promotion, like someone who isn't sure if today's agenda includes Force-choking or not; he only gets sharper-faced and more sleepless as he goes. "So goes life in the Empire: There's plenty of upward mobility, but job turnover is high, and workplace safety truly abysmal." It doesn't matter that we never see him do anything other than behave with the expected efficiency regarding his duties and his crew and an understandably petrified politeness around Vader, he complicates the dystopia just by not being faceless. (And not dying, even when he expects to—moments after he assured Vader its hyperdrive was deactivated, the Millennium Falcon streaks into stars and the expression on Colley's face as his spooky commander sweeps out of the room isn't so much the expected relief as blank bafflement at still breathing.) I note that even The Atlantic wants to give him more time in the story: "It's fun to imagine a strange Rosencrantz and Guildenstern-like saga playing out in the background as Piett manages the vast civil service of a galactic dictatorship while fielding orders from Vader and his Emperor." I am basically delighted.In honor of the occasion, please enjoy
cucumberseed's "The Love Song of Admiral Piett." It's still the best film criticism/T.S. Eliot parody I know. Character actors forever.
no subject
Thanks for the explanation. I couldn't tell if you thought he was a hat-tip to a particular character (Major Major Major Major in space) or just the concept in general.
I have assumed since the first time I saw these movies that the crew of the Executor started a betting pool on Piett's life expectancy the minute he was field-promoted.
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