A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...

There's no real reason for this entry. I just felt like it.

And why I love it ...

Way back in 1977, when I was but a wee sprout, rumor spread of a great new movie that, with little anticipation, had taken audiences by surprise and was conquering the world. You have to realize that, at that point, movies had become depressingly real and raw. There was a general tendency to show the ugliness in the world that had always been ignored before. We were paying the price for years of happy endings and propogandistic war movies. Films were now introducing us to the anti-hero, moral ambiguity, satire, irony, and unflinching views of death, drugs, war (especially Vietnam), and, basically, just how much life can suck. The days of the great Hollywood musical were long gone. The Western had become less adventure epic and more dark morality play. The old guard was challenged at every turn by rebellious anti-establishment newcomers. They were presenting everything on screen that could never be shown before - from Dustin Hoffman dying in a puddle of piss to Ned Beatty being raped by hillbillies to Slim Pickens riding a phallic A-bomb to its inevitable conclusion. About the most fun you could have at the cinema, back then, was when satanically possessed Linda Blair spewed vomit and profanities at priests (The Exorcist) or a great white shark ripped hapless swimmers and fishermen to shreds (Jaws).

My folks saw the movie before I ever did. I didn't feel like going out the night they went. I don't remember why. All I know is that they came back raving, and insisted I go and see this exciting, swashbuckling, outerspace dynamo of a film. But I thought, "What do parents know?" Then I began to hear talk on the playground; something about someone named Dark Vader. Who was this Dark Vader?

"He's a big black guy," said my friend, Larry. I pictured Geoffery Holder or James Earl Jones. I was partially right.

There was banter about something called "The Death Star" and talk of wookies, droids, and light sabers. It was like a different language, and I was beginning to feel left out.

So, of course, I went and saw it. I'm a little sorry I don't remember who I went with. It was a momentous ocassion for me, as it was for a lot of kids at that age, seeing "Star Wars" for the first time. I'd like to remember all the details, but unfortunately, I don't. It might have been with Garland; my best friend at the time. Or it might have been with my parents. I just don't remember. All I can recall is sitting in the darkness of the old Northpark I and II theater (a great place, gone forever) and seeing silent blue words appear on a black screen: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ...
Oooooh..... mystery, intrigue ... I wondered what lay ahead. And then - BOOM! - a vast explosion of John Williams and the LSO as a calvacade of giant letters scrolled off into space beginning with EPISODE IV: A NEW HOPE.

Episode ... IV? What happened to one through three?

There wasn't time to ponder this question, because the movie took off pretty fast. I sat there and watched it unfold. There was a rebellion, it seemed, because the galaxy was in danger from an evil empire. And when the "big black guy" first appeared, his aqualung breathing would forever after be his calling card (like that two note musical phrase that always announces the shark from "Jaws").

It was Darth, I discovered, and not Dark Vader. And he was not a black man. He was just in a scary black suit with a big black helmet and cape. But his voice sounded an awful lot like James Earl Jones.

Then there was little r2-d2, with his fussy robot sidekick c3p0. At first, I thought, for sure, the little droid was the story's main protagonist. I watched as a mysterious woman in the mists loaded a secret message into his memory. Then I followed him through the bleak deserts of Tatooine and saw him shanghaied by small, yellow-eyed scavengers. How cute, I thought. A movie about a funny, courageous little robot! But, of course, he was only leading us to the real hero; the fatherless, motherless, blond-haired, blue-eyed farm boy, Luke Skywalker.

I still think there's little in the movies to match that moment when Luke gazes up, longingly, at the two moons of Tatooine at dusk. He dreams of adventure and escape. The eternal yearning of youth.

Luke was the hero.

But he wasn't the star.

Not even the great Sir Alec Guiness, as decrepit Jedi mentor Obiwan Kenobi, could make that claim.

Not when Han Solo was so cool.
Not when Harrison Ford was, suddenly, the heir apparent to Errol Flynn and Douglas Fairbanks.
Not when he says things like, "Cheap parlour tricks and hokey religions are no match for a good blaster by your side." Or "Ain't no all powerful force controls my destiny." Or "Where did you dig up that old fossil?" Or "No reward is worth this!" Or "It was a boring conversation, anyway".

Or, finally, at long last:

"Hey Luke ...

...may the force be with you..."

That's one for the ages, people.

They cheered. That crowd went crazy when the Death Star (not a small moon, no way!) exploded into space dust. And Darth Vader, in his damaged tie-fighter, spun wildly into space leaving us open for a parade of sequels and prequels.

There was so much to wonder about. What was the secret of Luke's lineage? Who would the Princess choose - Luke or Han? How could they all be happy if she chose just one of them? And, since Darth Vader murdered Luke's dad (and now Obiwan, too), did that mean that Luke must avenge his father's betrayl, and his mentor's sacrifice, by killing Darth Vader?

By now, of course, all these questions have been answered.

The main thing, I think, was that people left the theater happy. We all went out with stupid grins on our faces and the word "Wow!" on our lips. The good guys won. And nobody overdosed on drugs, or stepped on a land mine in Vietnam, or got sodomized by the Clampetts.

Star Wars was proof that artistic greatness isn't necassarily reliant on heavy messages and unblinking views of life's harshness. Nor does popularity indicate a lack of merit. Annie Hall won the Oscar for Best Picture that year, but you tell me which movie has had the greater effect on the world's culture. I mean, seriously, you can say the words "Boba Phett" or "Tuscan Raider" or "Jabba the Hut" or "May the Force Be With You" almost anywhere on Earth, and people know exactly what you're talking about.

EPILOGUE: In the period following the release of Star Wars, as we awaited the next installment, my friends and I debated, over Luke and Vader action figures and repeated playings of the John Williams soundtrack, about what might happen next. There was a little Korean boy, named Tony, who insisted that Darth Vader was, in reality, Luke's father. We all laughed at that, because everybody knew that Obiwan had said, "A young Jedi named Darth Vader betrayed and murdered your father." How could Darth Vader be Luke's father if he was the one who killed Luke's father? "Gah! Tony you idiot!"

Last I heard, Tony got a near-perfect score on his SAT and ended up going to M.I.T.

The Force was strong with that one.

TODAY'S QUOTE: "Never tell me the odds!" --- Han Solo