I was not a fan of Star Wars. Before you get all up in arms, notice the word “was.”
The following is a story/essay about my conversion.
In
retrospect, my early objections to the Star
Wars movies probably had little to do with the actual series itself, but
rather, could be more properly attributed to a sibling rivalry. Josh, my older
brother, was an absolute fanatic when it came to not only Star Wars, but anything in the Science Fiction genre. I, always
trying to find an identity of my own, was not much of a fan of either. For me,
outer space was boring. For me, Science Fiction consisted of Back to the Future and Jurassic Park, segments of the genre
that took place entirely on Earth and that had nothing to do with outer space. And
so, even though we came from the same blood, and shared a bedroom, we were
entirely different people. Josh was in another galaxy. I stuck to Earth. Josh
was a Star Wars kid. I prefered Indiana Jones. And that was the way it
stayed, until about a month ago…
My
good friend J.R., a huge Star Wars fan, was recently married, and for their
first Christmas as newlyweds, his awesome wife Megan got him a private
screening of The Force Awakens. When
I heard about this incredible gift, I thought there was a 50/50 chance that I
would receive an invite. On one hand, me and J.R. are really good friends, so
naturally, he would invite me to experience this once in a lifetime opportunity
with him. But, on the other hand, I had voiced my disinterest over Star Wars—as
well as cracking numerous distasteful jokes—so many times, that it wouldn’t
have surprised me in the slightest if I was not invited. So, when I did receive the invitation to view The Force Awakens in a private screening
room, I knew it was only right to revisit the original trilogy.
Naturally,
I watched original Star Wars first
and to be honest, all I could think was: this
movie was once the highest grossing film of all time? How? Why? But then I gave
it some deep consideration and came up with a theory—it was just the right
movie at just the right time. It was the late 1970’s, our nation was in the
midst of a recession, we had only recently pulled out of the Vietnam War, and
Hollywood was in an era of producing realistic, often-times artistic, sometimes
tear-jerking, dramas. Though this era produced some of the greatest films of
all time—The Godfather, The Exorcist,
Jaws, Rocky, etc.—these films were often an exhausting experience. Star Wars, on the other hand, was fun. It
was colorful. It didn’t take it itself too seriously (though its fans
eventually would). It had robots and aliens and light sabers. It was exactly
what the public needed at the time. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it at the time
of its release—mostly because I wasn’t born yet—and when I returned to it as a
child in my early thirties, I found myself, surprisingly, entertained. Sure,
Luke is a whiny brat, plot holes are used to conceal larger plot holes, and
that trash compacter is much smaller than I remembered as a child, but all in
all, I found it to be a pretty decent movie experience. I was actually excited
to see the next installment…
I
wasn’t exactly thrilled with The Empire
Strikes Back. Quite frankly, I was a bit surprised that the filmmakers
followed up Star Wars with such a
dark sequel. But, trying to find a bright spot—always trying to find that
bright spot—I did consider the special effects, and though they might not be deemed
that impressive today, at the time, they must have been absolutely mind-blowing.
So, the movie did have that going for
it, until…
I
did something I probably shouldn’t have done. In the midst of my viewing of the
original Star Wars trilogy, I watched
2001: A Space Odyssey. I know I
shouldn’t have, but I was already in this Sci-fi state of mind, and it was playing in its original 35mm
format at my neighborhood theater, and
I had never seen it before. (I know what you’re thinking: How has someone with
a college degree in Film Studies never seen 2001:
A Space Odyssey? The answer: I went to a state school. They practically
give degrees away.) So, I watched the movie, which was filmed in 1968, and its
special effects were light years ahead of The
Empire Strikes Back. I was suddenly starting to question whether or not
this whole Star Wars saga was really
as good as everyone so desperately wanted me to believe. But then…
Along
comes Return of the Jedi—with its
Ewok villages, and Jaba the Hut’s strip club, and those awesome hovercraft
skidoos—to save the entire franchise. Wow, what a fun film! And Hans Solo gets
the girl in the end. Speaking of which, if I could sum up the greatest part of
the Star Wars films in just two words
they would be: Harrison Ford. For much of the same reason I love the Indiana Jones movies, I found myself
becoming a fan of Star Wars. There’s
just something about Ford’s acting that makes the audience feel like he’s an
old friend. The way he can express any emotion with just the look in his eyes. The
way he can be rude and charismatic at the same time. The way he can take over a
scene in which he only has a few lines. It’s no wonder that his combined films
have generated more money than any other actor in the history of Hollywood.
Come to think of it, I wonder if the Star
Wars movies would have been any good at all without him in them.
The
day finally comes to see The Force Awakens and I find out that not only do we have
an entire screening room to ourselves, but we also have $250 worth of food and
drink that we have to spend. Suddenly, it’s steak and champagne. It’s personal
pizzas and White Russians. “Did I say a pitcher of beer? I meant two pitchers
of beer.” “Well, if she’s having a glass of whiskey, I guess I’ll have one too.”
This is how Danny Devito must feel everyday of his life. Hell, with this kind
of royal treatment, I’d even watch Ride
Along 2. I’d even watch The Danish
Girl. I’d even watch…
The
lights go down and the film begins. At first, I’m skeptical. After all, I do have
very high expectations. This is the
biggest movie of all time. But then it delivers—Harrison Ford enters the movie
and all is saved. He’s still got it—that smile, those eyes, that charisma. I
drink another beer. It is extraordinary! I take another sip of whiskey. It is
thrilling! More beer. It is at the same time a sequel and a remake—brilliant! More
whiskey. It is the greatest movie ever made! And then it ends. The credits
roll. And we have to leave. And suddenly our high-roller status is gone.
The next day I realize
that I was so intoxicated during the movie that I can’t even remember the last
45 minutes. I literally have no idea how it ended. But it doesn’t matter, because
I remember loving it. And as long as they keep making them, and as long as
Harrison Ford is still starring in them, I will definitely buy a ticket.
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