A Long Time Ago in a Childhood Far, Far, Away...
May 19 is the day...
For those of you who never watch TV, browse department stores, or for some other reason live under a rock sufficiently remote to not be blitzed by the media hype, May 19 is the day George Lucas releases the final movie in his Star Wars saga.
I'm apprehensive, but hopeful. The previous two movies in this new series have been somewhat disappointing, yielding brief glimpses of the high adventure of the original series (the pod race, Yoda's lightsaber duel), but for the most part, the majority of Star Wars lovers have been disappointed.
Part of that is the filter of years. Most of us were younger then, in some cases like mine as young as 5, and 28 years of life have made us more jaded, less filled with wonder, and harder to wrap up in that blanket of belief suspension needed to truly enjoy a movie like this. Part of it, admittedly, is just George Lucas not capturing the magic of the original trilogy.
I'm hopeful for a couple of reasons. One, I've heard some great reviews from advance screenings (director Kevin Smith, whose opinions I respect greatly, thinks it's the second coming of Empire Strikes Back). Two, it marks the return of Darth Vader.
For millions of children of the late seventies and early eighties, Darth Vader was the coolest thing ever. The menacing black costume, the brook-no-failure attitude, that swooshy breathing, and most importantly the voice of Jame Earl Jones, which seems to come from a place so deep that you don't figure anything good can come from it.
But mainly, I'm hopeful because it's my last chance to capture that feeling again. The feeling of a 5 year old boy sitting next to his dad, being swallowed up by the theater seats which seemed so big then (funny since now I often complain they're too small), munching popcorn and preparing to experience his first movie. What a way to begin. If the seats seem huge to a 5 year old boy, imagine the feeling when the opening scene of Star Wars comes on and that tiny little Rebel Blockade Runner shoots past the camera followed by a massive Star Destroyer that seemed to go on and on and on for eternity. I still think it's the greatest opening shot in motion picture history. I can't even begin to tell you the effect that had on me, other than to say that my dvd collection is twice as big as most folks and I have a B.S. in Mass Communications. That movie turned me into a junkie and I've been chasing that fix ever since.
On top of that, I tie the Star Wars trilogy into other memories. By the time Star Wars came out, my mom and dad were recently divorced and my dad took me to Star Wars as one of our weekend visits. I missed him terribly and his being there for that moment was something I'll never forget. Over the years, he moved around a lot, following a string of jobs that took him to states too far flung to make regular visits unrealistic. But he always made a point to come home when a Star Wars movie would come out. Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi became as much father-son reunions as they did movie experiences. I would write stories about the characters, often previously acted out using my Star Wars and GI Joe toys, and mail them to him in whatever state he currently lived in. He'd read them and write me back, sometimes suggesting new adventures for Luke and Leia and Han and Darth Vader.
You know, when I sat down to write this, I intended to commemorate the end of a movie series that meant so much to me and maybe throw a memory or two of my dad in. Looking back on what I've written now, I would actually say that the Star Wars trilogy was probably the major lynchpin of our relationship when I was young. I'm just now at this moment realizing that virtually all of my memories of my dad from age five until about fifteen involve Star Wars in some way. Watching the movies in the theater, writing stories, telling him about my play sessions with my Star Wars toys, getting together when I got the newly released trilogy on VHS to have a marathon viewing session. All of it.
I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that... Part of me feels like your relationship with the person who gave you life ought to be deeper and more weighty than some fluffy space opera. But part of me doesn't care. In my current career as a social worker I see and read about kids every day who never knew their father, as well as some who would be a lot better of if they never had. So even though I didn't get to spend as much time with him as I'd have liked as a kid and even though most of that time is based around a series of movies, I'll take it. I'm fortunate enough to know that a lot of kids would envy me it.
So... May 19. I'll be there, not expecting but hoping.
Wonder what my dad's doing next weekend?
Until then,
Gryph
"I find your lack of faith disturbing"
-Darth Vader, while choking an underling
NP: "I Spoke as a Child" by Todd Snider
For those of you who never watch TV, browse department stores, or for some other reason live under a rock sufficiently remote to not be blitzed by the media hype, May 19 is the day George Lucas releases the final movie in his Star Wars saga.
I'm apprehensive, but hopeful. The previous two movies in this new series have been somewhat disappointing, yielding brief glimpses of the high adventure of the original series (the pod race, Yoda's lightsaber duel), but for the most part, the majority of Star Wars lovers have been disappointed.
Part of that is the filter of years. Most of us were younger then, in some cases like mine as young as 5, and 28 years of life have made us more jaded, less filled with wonder, and harder to wrap up in that blanket of belief suspension needed to truly enjoy a movie like this. Part of it, admittedly, is just George Lucas not capturing the magic of the original trilogy.
I'm hopeful for a couple of reasons. One, I've heard some great reviews from advance screenings (director Kevin Smith, whose opinions I respect greatly, thinks it's the second coming of Empire Strikes Back). Two, it marks the return of Darth Vader.
For millions of children of the late seventies and early eighties, Darth Vader was the coolest thing ever. The menacing black costume, the brook-no-failure attitude, that swooshy breathing, and most importantly the voice of Jame Earl Jones, which seems to come from a place so deep that you don't figure anything good can come from it.
But mainly, I'm hopeful because it's my last chance to capture that feeling again. The feeling of a 5 year old boy sitting next to his dad, being swallowed up by the theater seats which seemed so big then (funny since now I often complain they're too small), munching popcorn and preparing to experience his first movie. What a way to begin. If the seats seem huge to a 5 year old boy, imagine the feeling when the opening scene of Star Wars comes on and that tiny little Rebel Blockade Runner shoots past the camera followed by a massive Star Destroyer that seemed to go on and on and on for eternity. I still think it's the greatest opening shot in motion picture history. I can't even begin to tell you the effect that had on me, other than to say that my dvd collection is twice as big as most folks and I have a B.S. in Mass Communications. That movie turned me into a junkie and I've been chasing that fix ever since.
On top of that, I tie the Star Wars trilogy into other memories. By the time Star Wars came out, my mom and dad were recently divorced and my dad took me to Star Wars as one of our weekend visits. I missed him terribly and his being there for that moment was something I'll never forget. Over the years, he moved around a lot, following a string of jobs that took him to states too far flung to make regular visits unrealistic. But he always made a point to come home when a Star Wars movie would come out. Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi became as much father-son reunions as they did movie experiences. I would write stories about the characters, often previously acted out using my Star Wars and GI Joe toys, and mail them to him in whatever state he currently lived in. He'd read them and write me back, sometimes suggesting new adventures for Luke and Leia and Han and Darth Vader.
You know, when I sat down to write this, I intended to commemorate the end of a movie series that meant so much to me and maybe throw a memory or two of my dad in. Looking back on what I've written now, I would actually say that the Star Wars trilogy was probably the major lynchpin of our relationship when I was young. I'm just now at this moment realizing that virtually all of my memories of my dad from age five until about fifteen involve Star Wars in some way. Watching the movies in the theater, writing stories, telling him about my play sessions with my Star Wars toys, getting together when I got the newly released trilogy on VHS to have a marathon viewing session. All of it.
I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that... Part of me feels like your relationship with the person who gave you life ought to be deeper and more weighty than some fluffy space opera. But part of me doesn't care. In my current career as a social worker I see and read about kids every day who never knew their father, as well as some who would be a lot better of if they never had. So even though I didn't get to spend as much time with him as I'd have liked as a kid and even though most of that time is based around a series of movies, I'll take it. I'm fortunate enough to know that a lot of kids would envy me it.
So... May 19. I'll be there, not expecting but hoping.
Wonder what my dad's doing next weekend?
Until then,
Gryph
"I find your lack of faith disturbing"
-Darth Vader, while choking an underling
NP: "I Spoke as a Child" by Todd Snider
posted by Gryphon at 12:09 PM
1 Comments:
May the Force be with you, Young Skywalker.
Actually, Darth Kel should probably leave that comment for you, but I reckon she's busy somewhere, skewering prose with her saber pen.
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