If you happened to be in Toledo, Ohio in the summer of 1977, and found yourself near the city’s university late one afternoon, you might have seen a 13-year-old boy on a ten-speed weaving in and out of traffic and making “Pew! Pew!” sounds with his mouth.
That was no earthbound teenager. Rather, it was Luke Skywalker piloting his X-Wing down the trench of the Death Star in the hopes of destroying the battle station and saving the lives of his friends on the rebel base.
Actually, that was me on my bike, but in my mind, I was Skywalker, the cars were Tie-Fighters, and West Bancroft Street was the trench of the Death Star.
I had just seen “Star Wars” for the first time and was racing home to tell my friends about it. The movie had blown my mind into little sparkles, like when Skywalker finally destroyed the Death Star, and the course my life would take had shifted a little.
That moment exists in my memory banks with such clarity that I can step into it and feel the rush of excitement that carried me home that day. When I envision myself on that bike, racing down West Bancroft, I’m reminded of a simple truth: I love “Star Wars.”
That love faltered over the years. I can also still feel the crushing disappointment of seeing “Return of the Jedi” for the first time. I hated the Ewoks. And watching the rebels reduce a second Death Star to space dust was not nearly as thrilling as it had been the first time. My opinion on the movie has softened since then – the redemption of Darth Vader brings the series to an appropriate conclusion – but I still cringe when I watch it.
I had high hopes for the prequel trilogy, and although a friend recently made a strong argument in favor of “The Phantom Menace,” “Attack of the Clones,” and “Revenge of the Sith,” I hold all three films in disdain. To me, they are gallingly inept movies that only gain traction in the final act of “Sith.” Jar Jar Binks? Have more words of derision been written about any other movie character?
After watching “Sith,” I put “Star Wars” away. I thought I had outgrown it. To me, “Star Wars” was a silly relic of a boy’s life, better left in mothballs with baseball cards, paper routes and that (still amazing) poster of Farrah Fawcett.
And then...
And then George Lucas sold the rights to “Star Wars” to Disney and announced the filming of “Episode VII.” As I stared slack-jawed at the screen reading the news, my love of “Star Wars” was reborn. And despite being disappointed in every “Star Wars” movie since the (still amazing) “Empire Strikes Back,” a new hope instantly sprung up inside of me.
You’ve probably heard the phrase “Once bitten, twice shy.” Well, “Star Wars” fans have been bitten more than once, but we keep coming back for more. However, I think our optimism this time is well-founded.
For starters, Lucas will not be writing or directing the movies, although they will be based on his story outlines. This gives Disney an opportunity to bring in talent that can make the kinds of “Star Wars” movies of which fans have only dreamed. And you can bet Disney is going to choose its talent carefully and make sure “Episode VII” makes the kind of splash that will send waves well into the future.
The choice of Disney as the caretaker of the “Star Wars” universe also gives me hope. Look what the company has accomplished with its movies based on Marvel comics. Imagine the kind of unabashed creativity and sheer filmmaking prowess that went into “The Avengers” being poured into a “Star Wars” movie. Picture the same respect for fans and the source material being evident in every frame. And imagine Luke Skywalker appearing not as a reckless youth who needs to tame the Force within him but as a wizened Jedi master who hands over his light saber to a new generation of heroes.
When I think about these things, my pulse races, as though the heart of a 13-year-old boy has been planted inside my chest. And I’m reminded of a simple truth: I still love “Star Wars.”
Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.