I decided I wanted to be a Jedi when I was 11 years old. It was 1977. It seemed like the only thing to do. The Force, the energy that binds the universe, spoke to me via Obi Wan Kenobi, and I was up for the task. I wasn't sure how to go about it, but that would become clear. All I knew was that at that point in my life, world was going so dark that it was like two suns were setting at the same time.
And then, in a darkened movie theatre full of kids my age, the immortal words "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far way..." came up on the screen at Century 22, and my life changed forever.
I went a saw Star Wars yesterday at the Colorado Symphony. I can't call it Episode 4: A New Hope. I saw the movie 21 times when it first came out, and it was simply called "Star Wars". No episode number. No nothing but those two words. Star. Wars. And it was glorious. The movie played in theatres for over a year. I remember a poster in the theatre lobbys of a birthday cake for it, marking it's first birthday, with all the old action figures on the cake. It was everywhere, and everyone was down with it. All of the summer after fifth grade. All of sixth grade. I saw it about twice a month. And never got tired of it. Ever. I'd jump on my bike, ride up Moorpark Ave, past the Winchester Mystery House to Century 22 Cinema, and lose myself in a world of light sabres, Jedi, and Jawas.
As I watched the movie yesterday, it hit me how much that film changed my life. How powerful a movie can be. The alchemy was perfect for most of the world, I guess, that year. It certainly was for me. I needed to believe in something, anything, that could possibly have a chance against the insistent forces of darkness out there. A system of some sort. A Force.
And lo and behold, there was Alec Guiness, kind and strong, cool as a cucumber, unafraid of death itself, telling Luke, and all of us, that the Force would be with us
Always.
Watching the movie now, I can see how simple the plot is. How basic the dialogue is, and all that.
And I could care less.
It moves me. Makes me believe in magic and hope and wonder.
At the point where Luke watches the duel sunset, I cried.
I know life is hard. That fact is abundantly clear, and asserts itself every day. There is sorrow and regret enough for everyone to have a full plate of woe and there's always refills. I knew it full well by the time I was 11. My father had split years before, never to return. My step-father was a deeply cynical alcoholic with an explosive temper. I had no illusions about anything, really. Nothing.
I think that's what makes stories like Star Wars essential. We need myths. We need hope. We need the Force.
I don't think we need more Star Wars films or series, per se. Not that I don't like them. Some of the current offerings are amazing. Particularly Andor.
But I think when a void presents itself, it gets filled. If the world needs a Star Wars, one will come around. I don't know what we need right now. But it will come around.
Or the Empire will rise again.
Onwards.
I will write more soon about my adventures in Scotland. Until then, here is my favorite bit from Star Wars.
Also, if you are in Denver, I am teaching a playwriting class. Join me and maybe you can make the next thing we all need. Click HERE for info.
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