A Galaxy Far, Far Away

Monday is about movies (and/or TV). Today it's about Star Wars. The original. The 1977 classic. A NEW HOPE. Episode IV. The start of it all...

I think I’ve realised, just recently really, that I’m not a Star Wars guy. It comes as some relief really. I cut a certain swagger, have mannerisms, the build, and an occasionally breathless turn of phrase that could have me mistaken for The Simpsons’ Comic Book Guy. But I’ve never quite been the Comic Con/Star Trek/Sci Fi nerd that sits at the heart of that trope.

I’ve barely seen more than two episodes of the X-Files and would need to check which one was Mulder, and which was Scully. I do like Blade Runner but (shhh) mostly for its iconic soundtrack. Made the mistake of turning up to university with a poster to put on my wall that said All I Need To Know About Life I Learned From Star Trek – and someone on day one asked me if I was an OG or Next Generation guy, and I said that I just like the philosophy and the mocking of philosophy that went on in the poster. Because my grandfather had taken me to a few of the Star Trek films, and I had watched the TV show (and Dr. Who) now and then – but I just wasn’t a deep nerd. In that sense at least.

And it has remained this way with me and sci-fi. I love the things I love – one-offs, certain novels and stories, the dystopias (mostly) but I’m not your person for the quiz team. Not for that specialist category anyway.

And maybe Star Wars was my one area where I could almost keep up – at least to begin with…

As a kid, the original trilogy meant the world to me. I was probably taken to Empire Strikes Back on the big screen but was too young to really remember it, Return of the Jedi was the one. We lined up and missed out the first time around, and I was allowed to stay up late one school night just so I could get to Jedi during its initial theatre run.

When the prequels came to town, we were excited. And a bunch of us turned out for the midnight premiere. And I doubt I’ve ever been as let down by a movie ever. It was a long slog through two and a half hours from midnight, and all for some pod-racing and a bad accent on a space-age Roger Rabbit.

I boycotted episodes two and three. And stuck with my memories of the original trilogy.

When the last three films arrived in cinemas (2015-2019) I had a kid old enough to want to see some of them. Well, actually I went to The Force Awakens with my brother for the nostalgia shot. And mostly had quite a nice sleep.

But when Oscar was old enough to really get into the films and the franchise – and through no pushing from me – I joined him to rewatch the lot. And to take him to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker – which I believe is subtitled, or prefaced Episode IX  on the big screen.

But it was not the end.

There is a whole wing of Disneyland now – a theme park within that theme park – dedicated to Star Wars, with a merch-store bigger than most houses. And there is a button on your menu if you have the Disney channel, which takes you to the world of Star Wars and offers you all sorts of documentaries and spin-off TV shows, both animated and with actors. We have origin stories galore. And there will be more. Forever more.

And a while back I decided that I was going to be an original trilogy guy. It was the easiest way to justify and compartmentalise, and it fit snugly with the nostalgia-run I was having collecting up Stephen King books and re-watching basketball games from the 80s and 90s, and listening to Van Halen, and, watching The Golden Girls and, well, that sort of thing…

But Empire – the “classic” of the series, the dark and moody sequel, the one where the good guys don’t win – was a bit of a bore when I last watched it. And Return was just stupid. The cute little Ewoks that captivated me when I was eight or nine just chewed into the screen-time now without telling any story. And the rest of the movie was a hot mess.

Surely, A New Hope, Episode IV, the first and original Star Wars…surely that was still pure, that was the one, the sci-fi film that transcended sci-fi; pirates in space, a western set in the sky, a classic battle of good guys and bad guys, with a token (objectified) female because representation wasn’t a thing, and it just didn’t matter…

This weekend we decided to watch Star Wars. Again. I have no idea how many times I have seen this film – right through – but it must be into double figures. I recall seeing it once on the big screen (when it was reissued in 1997). I saw it with the NZSO performing its score live. And I must have watched it on VHS, DVD, and via the Disney channel – a couple of times each. Plus, it was on TV from time to time when I was growing up.

The dialogue is hokey, the characters are 2D, the action is slow – painfully slow. And the only thing that I feel now, maybe more than I even felt at the time, is the music. The music is sublime. The music really dictates the flow of the film; telegraphs key moments and builds an emotional tension that otherwise simply would not be there.

But hey, that’s John Williams. That’s what he does. He will propel your blockbuster for you.

When I was a kid we would listen to the Star Wars films. We had the read-along books with records, we had The Story of Star Wars LP, and we had a few others too (E.T. was a big one). We could sit and listen and read and imagine a whole world.

The film was a revelation. Because it was like nothing else I had seen. And it opened up a whole world.

I can’t deny that was the case.

But to watch it now, I can’t slip back into that mode. I know it’s “Important”. I know it changed cinema. And now, most days, I would use that as a case for it changing cinema for worse, not better.

But I just can’t get back there myself. I only see hammy acting, hear wooden dialogue, and the star of the show for me is the robot droid, C-3PO. He has the best lines, the best timing too.

This is no hot take, and it arrives far too late if it was even trying to be one.

It's just my experience watching – and trying to connect with – Star Wars. Ponderous, plodding, and half-baked.

But the weekend was not a waste. I confirmed I’m not a Star Wars guy. Which is a relief.

It is the shedding of a layer of deep nerd-dom. One that was always dangerously close to being worn like a cloak.

When Obi-Wan sees Luke running towards him, and he’s fighting Darth Vader, and he needs Luke to see that Darth is evil, and he needs the Dark Lord to transition to full beast-mode and he needs Luke to train to become the new, strong Jedi, and he is possibly just very tired since he’s old, and so he stops fighting and stands still and lets Vader just slice through him with his big red electric breadknife…

Yeah, that was me this Saturday. Just standing there and letting the film slice right through me.

Goodbye Star Wars. I loved you once.

But that was A LONG TIME AGO, seemingly, in A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY…