Wenchwatches: Stargate (1994)

 
Content warnings
death
Racism
suicidal ideation

It's no surprise I asked my Dad to take me to see this film in the theater. Not only to I love Scifi, but also Egyptology. This film was like two candies in one.

And, for ultimate I'm-An-Old-Nerd credit, I read the novelization before seeing the film.

Let's watch!

Tonight we're watching the "Ultimate edition DVD", featuring the director's cut. While there aren't many differences between this version and the theatrical (in my research), the changes I did read about suggested good things.

Indeed, after that glorious intro slow panning over a high-tech Nemes Headdress, we're greeting with our first change:

A prehistoric camp's sleep is interrupted by an immense, pyramidal craft. A single boy walks up to it, and disappears in a beam of light... And immediately we're cut to the 1920s in Egypt, where the Stargate is unearthed. While this latter sequence starts the same as the theatrical, in continues on with a further, ominous detail. Under the Stargate we find the remains of what we'll discover to be an Anubis and a Horus guard.

The rapid fire of the two scenes plays much better than in the theatrical. It creates a clear line of implied story. We're asked to wonder what happened to the boy, and it's implied something terrible happened which led to the futuristic looking "ring thing" and the threatening remains discovered under it.

As much as a like how this opening sets the mood, I can see why the former was cut for the theatrical. The film proper doesn't start until we get to the third scene, set in the modern day.This can be rather dizzying going into the film, and it's arguable that the prehistoric sequence is unnecessary as it's recalled later in the film. In some ways, it's a prototype in miniature for Emmerich's later film, Independence Day (also called ID4). In that film, multiple threads were laid in the intro in a seemingly unrelated fashion. Later, each of those came together as the tension of the film intensified. Stargate can't quite do that, since the scenes are separated greatly in time, rather than space as they were i n ID4

Daniel Jackson. [sigh.] Let's talk about him.

While I loved the character as a kid seeing this film, I've learned a lot since then. In particular and by the director's own admission, Jackson is a stand in for Erik Von Däniken, the Chariots of the Gods guy.

Yeah. That guy. The guy for whom we have the meme that it's not aliens if white people didn't do it.

Emmerich openly based this film on Däniken's ideas, as covered in the "Is there a Stargate" extra. This is why Jackson is speaking about the inverted timeline for Ancient Egyptian culture. If this were only a creation for the film, I'd be more inclined to just write all of this off as Hollywood silliness (with more than a touch of racism). Unfortunately that isn't the case. There are some seriously awful people who espouse these ideas equally seriously.

Maybe all of that was just easier to overlook when your a nerdy kid in the midwest in 1994...

Even over 30 years later, the unique look of the gate as well as its opening effects continue to be iconic.

The "flushing sideways" effect was, if memory serves, created by filming tossing a heavy object into a swimming pool. The combination of practical and digital effects is some brilliant movie-making. The sudden reveal is also a classic Emmerich move. We've seen how in other films he'll suddenly peel back a layer of normal to reveal the fantastic, and then ratchet that up over successive scenes. This creates not only excitement but delays gratification long enough to get the audience hooked into the film. It's the "oh shit, we're invested now" moment.

This is to say nothing about how Emmerich was channeling some of the Close Encounters Energy as the team enters that shimmering pool of non-water at the gate's entrance.

I realize that Emmerich is known for his more bombastic films now a days, but at this point there's still a lot of serious film making here.

When you watch something like ID4, the film is definitely leaning into the ridiculous elements of USian culture. Stargate in comparison feels like the last "serious" film he did. We've seen on previous wenchwatches how his earlier films, while inexperienced, showed some competent film making. The Noah's Arc Principle was an unexpected treat and one we should return to soon.

Here, the story feels fantastic, but it lacks the bombast of ID4 and later works. It retains that adventure film vibe well. The characters have backstories which, while simple, offer chances for empathy and emotional investment. The cinematography is beautiful in this film. At no point do the characters feel unreal.

One can only assume that prolonged exposure to USians, and in particular Hollywood, might make one a bit...snarky.

Can't say I blame him.

O'Neill is initially painted as a broken man after the unfortunate death of his son. Both the theatrical and director's cut cover this as well as O'Neill's implied suicidal ideation. The theatrical drops this thread until later in the film, and barely mentions the suicidal tendencies until nearly the third act. 

The director's cut, however, picks that detail quickly. After Jackson claims he can decipher the symbols on the other side of the gate, O'Neill walks away in disgust,"He's full of shit". He doesn't say this in the theatrical, and more importantly, the following scene is cut entirely. West follows O'Neill to another part of the base where the remains of the Anubis and Horus guards were put on display. You see, West chose O'Neill because of his suicidal tendencies. While the orders are not clearly laid out in their conversation, there's deathly implications in their words.

The result is that in the director's cut, you're more likely to see O'Neill more sympathetically. His initial posture as a military hardass plays on Jackson's nerd dynamic to create an antagonist/protagonist pair. Yet, the additional scenes suggest a brittleness to that exterior. The result of the internal conflict is that O'Neill feels like he has more depth. Moreover, he's less an antagonist and more a co-protagonist who only needs to find his redemption arc and a reason to go on living.

It's funny which parts of the novelization of this film I remember all these years later.

The staff weapons ended in a blade, rather than the "taser club" they had in the film.

The Stargate chevrons in the book extended, then emitted small tendrils of energy which pooled to create the event horizon. This was likely either artistic license on the part of the writer, or dropped in the practical effect.

Another difference is Kasuf. When Jackson offer's him the 5th Avenue Bar, we actually get to see things from Kasuf's perspective. Not only did this humanize the character and cut down on the exotic-ness and othering, it was also hilarious. Because if you've never see it before...a chocolate covered candy bar does look like literal shit. He thought Jackson was offering him a turd.

We also parts of the story from Skarra's perspective. A good portion of this was also devoted to his friend, Nabeh. In the novel this was intended to set up the emotional impact for his death later in the story. This was wholly absent from the theatrical edition of the film, as we only get the earth character's perspective.

And that's where the film stands out in relief. Lacking that perspective throughout the second act sets the tone that the Jackson, O'Neill, and the rest of the team are coded as militarized colonizers. Leaving (to barrow the designation from SG-1) the people of Abydos as our indigenous people insert. This feels all the more true when you barely get a line a person from any of the black members of O'Neill's team.

The first bit of subtitled language in the film we get is from Ra:

"You have come to destroy me."

It's a damn chilling moment. Withholding subtitles until this moment is a deliberate choice to extract maximum emotional effect. Until this moment, we really hadn't seen any reason to be afraid of the Abydosians. They're workers, quarrymen, and villagers with a bronze-age level of technology from what we can tell. With the arrival of Ra and this single line, our antagonist is identified.

Only after this point are we finally given subtitles and scenes of Kasuf, Skarra, and Sha'uri talking without any of the Earth characters present.  It seems awfully late in the film to start humanizing these characters instead of intentionally othering them. The buildup of language from earlier scenes somehow leaves it feeling natural. Yet, it's still frustrating how much white gaze is attached to the film.

One of the commenters from the original thread on Fediverse mentioned how Danial Jackson is  an atypical character for this genre. He's bookish, nerdy, and has no real ability to fight. Yet, the film does not turn him into a punchline. On the contrary, he's the only reason the plot moves forward at all. 

He's adjacent to something that I love from Star Trek: engineers as heroes. Only this case, he's a social scientist and a historian. And the only one who can really get them out of this mess.

In several scenes, we run into the conflict between O'Neill and Jackson. O'Neill considers his mission over, the threat as been assessed. Getting the rest of his team back through the gate and then destroying it is all that matters. The Abydosians are merely collateral damage to him. Jackson, however, sees them as people and encourages their revolt.

"Take a look at your gods."

Furthermore,  Jackson also directly challenges O'Neill in front of the remains of his team. In other films, this would be unthinkable. The nerdy character having a point? And making it with equal if not greater conviction? This film knows who it's talking to, and it's granting them a very 90s wish fulfillment. Be the hero, save the planet, get the girl... It's the entire tough guy plot, but done by someone with Lennon's glasses, long hair, and an Egyptology book.

Nerdy wish-fulfillment aside, it's hard to ignore how tangential Jackson's role is to white-saviorism. Back in college, my anthropology professor had us watch film after film of depictions of Native Americans, and the common threads and stereotypes were clear by the 5th class. Stargate is depicting a world under oppression, but it isn't until a group of white people show up that revolt becomes considered. To the audience, it's suggested that this is the only time this has happened. We're given no deeper history passed down from Kasuf suggesting otherwise.

The white-saviorism is somewhat denied. While O'Neill did unknowingly provide weapons which which to combat Ra and his guards, it's Skarra who starts the revolt. He plans the rescue of the Earth characters, Jackson included.  He teaches himself and his friends how to arm and fire the rifles after keen observation and, presumably, off-screen experimentation. Even the little reflection trick with the lighter isn't taught to him. I love this easily overlooked detail as it gives the Abydosians a sense of agency, which was sorely lacking throughout the second act.

It should be of no surprise that lately I've been rewatching Stargate SG-1, the spinoff series which directly follows this film. Being a nerdy ass pedant, I can't help but compare this film to the series, particularly in the design of its alien antagonist.

In the film, Ra is depicted more as a Star Trek alien. Bipedal, bilateral symmetry, human-sized. The glowing eye effect also partially reveals this effect in key moments, such as when he tries to kill Jackson, or moments before his ship explodes. I always liked the semi-corporal nature of this rendering. The visual language of the film makes it easy to see how the glowing eyes effect works, but also heightens the alienness of it. It's good stuff.

In the series, they retconned this presentation entirely much to my disappointment. As much as I love the unified feel of the film, I understand the reasons for the retcon in the series. The depiction of Ra's species as a small serpent-like being hinges strongly on the line from the film: "--possessed his body like some sort of parasite infecting a host." You can easily see where the writers of the series went from there.

Moreover, the history of Ra was also retconned heavily. Instead of being the last member of a dying race, the Goa'uld allow the series writers to create a veritable pantheon of adversaries for the characters to depose. Furthermore, it introduces weak spots in their lifecycle (the Jaffa) thereby granting further opportunities for plot and story.

In the end, both of these make sense for their own properties. The film makes sense for the film, and the series makes sense for the series. Still, I'm much more enamored by the film's presentation, even if it would have been a pain in the ass to do on a cable television budget (even Showtime's).

Stargate continues to be a fun film even 30 years later. It isn't without its problematic elements, however. The connection to indigenous erasure Chariot of the Gods nonsense leaves the franchise feeling uncomfortable to me in more than one way. Given the....[broadly gestures at everything in 2025]...it's hard not to worry that it only reinforces the idea that "it had to be aliens" and not brilliant humans who's feats of art, culture, and engineering fail to impress white people. 

That's my read, that's what I think about when I watch this film or the follow up series. It's the voice of my Lakota anthropology professor, dreading my terrible choices in entertainment and begging me to be better.

That being said...

Stargate is a fun film. It's remixing of the tough military guy and the nerdy book-lover into a pair of protagonists make for a delightful combination. The film is a beautiful thing to watch, particularly in the extended Director's Cut -- a new HD transfer from film. The music was so iconic it took two seasons of SG-1 to finally get a bit sick of it. While janky by the standards of today, the motion tracking CGI effects are still a neat touch and were gasp-inducing in the theater.

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