This past weekend while waiting for a meeting to begin, my husband and I were sitting in the lobby continuing a conversation that had begun in the car--what drives us crazy about the latest movie installments in the Star Wars franchise.
This is a reoccurring conversation we have. This particular one, began on the way back from breakfast--Mace Windu: Lamest Jedi of All--and became a discussion of why Lucas has a fetish for cutting off his characters' hands.
OK, I know: the dangerous possibility of the dehumanization of the Jedi, the breakdown of the barriers between Man and Machine. Alright. Um, so Anakin? I get it. Luke, I get it; Darth Again, I get it, "symphonic motifs" (as Lucas likes to say). But how exactly does this motif fit with Mace or Dooku (who BTW has one of the *worst* names in the franchise)?
"Is it that Lucas had just run out of ideas?" I said.
Exasperatedly said, I might add, for Star Wars was the religion of my childhood. So much so that at 30, I kept trying to convince myself that The Phantom Menace was a good movie by seeing it many times, even though my father kept saying, "Wow. Lucas sure did shit in his nest with that one."
"Lucas can't be that . . . lame, Andy."
He laughed. "How is it that it just never gets old talking about why these later films are such a disappointment?"
"But isn't it sad we aren't talking about what makes these movies great?"
We sat in the lobby in silence. Perhaps both of us thinking about our action-figure populated childhoods, and how Lucas betrayed those childhood storylines we both wished for while playing with our x-wings and Darth Vaders. Yet he is George Lucas! He did give the world the Star Wars universe. Isn't that enough to warrant a little continued respect?
Then out of my sadness for what Lucas did came forth my epiphany in the lobby, one I had to share:
"I love that I can talk with you about how much I hate these last three movies and you understand. . . . It's just one more reason why I love you."
This morning on PostSecrets someone's Valentine postcard of regret had a message scrawled across a picture postcard of young Luke: "I broke up with my Star Wars nerd boyfriend 9 years ago. I still miss him, love him. . ." I thought about how unfortunate she was to let her love, as Leia would say, "slip through her fingers." I am sad for her, but happy for me and all my nerd friends who held on. Tightly.
Happy Belated Nerd Valentine's Day!
3 comments:
'Scuse me, I need to go take a Dooku.'
Worst name ever.
I'll agree that while Lucas was a cinematic genius at the time of the original trio, he needs to retire...or maybe we are losing the ability to see the magic we saw as kids. ?? I'm still scratching my head over Jar Jar.
Forgive me for defended Jorge.
He has said that they are kids movies.
one word..
Ewoks.
The sounds effects were really cool in the prequels.
Oh, hell. Give the guy a break. I've recently read my own dissertation. I used to be smart, clever and creative too. Maybe we only get so much?
But, yeah, the movies sucked.
So some of us know when to stop. Perhaps writing of an infinite universe makes one feel as if they too are infinite. . . ?
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