Growing Up Star Wars: Episode II, The Sequels, er, um...the Prequels.

Dateline: 1983. Return of the Jedi is released upon the world, the final chapter of the Star Wars trilogy. The Empire has been defeated. Darth Vader and the evil Emperor have been vanquished. The Rebel Alliance is triumphant and peace prevails upon that galaxy far, far away. Story over.

Only, we all know it isn't. After all, the three movies we have are only chapters 4-6 of the Skywalker saga. There is much more to be told. How did the Empire come to be? What drove Anakin Skywalker to the Dark Side? What were the Clone Wars? These were questions that needed answers. Fortunately, given the production timeline for the original movies, being around three years per film, then 1986 should see the release of Episode I, and we would all start getting our answers.

1986 came...and went. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Not even a whisper of a new film. The most I had heard was from some pulp magazine published that same year that gave a vague plot description of what would be the next story, involving B-movie princess Sybil Danning (Look it up, people!) playing the Dark Side witch who would seduce Anakin and transform him into Darth Vader (Seriously!) I think the magazine that ran the story was owned by Mrs. Danning, as almost every article had her involved one grandiose movie sequel or another (Terminator, Indiana Jones, Alien, etc) with none of these predictions coming true. This may have been a forerunner to the modern website WeGotThisCovered.com.

1987. Star Wars still had a presence, but it was fading faster than a Force ghost. Two Ewok T.V. movies and the Ewok/Droids Adventure Hour cartoons came out fast and fizzled just as quickly. Marvel Comics Star Wars line. More prominent was West End Games' excellent role-playing game (I still have most of the books. They serve as great inspiration for even my non-Star Wars writing.) and the Disney/Lucasfilm collaboration on their Star Tours thrill ride. But that was all. We couldn't even get a rerun of The Star Wars Holiday Special, and everyone loved that! Right? Right?

Time marched on. We fans got on with our lives. We still had our VHS versions of the movies to watch, but that was all. Somehow, we survived.

Around late 1990-early 1991, I was inspired to try my hand at writing my own Star Wars novel, and glorious fantasies raced through my mind of my single-handedly bringing the franchise back to life, gaining the adoration of millions. (The entire story of that particular train wreck can be found in my October 16, 2019 blog post. I encourage you to read it, if you haven't already, as I will not be retelling it again.) Let's just say that a certain small-time author named Timothy Zahn beat me to that particular punch and, let's face it, the world is better off for it. Well played, Mister Zahn. Well played indeed.

We all know the story from there. Star Wars came back in a big way. Books, comics, toys, video games. Everything geared toward telling the further adventures of our beloved Star Warriors in a galaxy far, far away.

But we were still left scratching our heads. How did this all start? Where were the new movies we all expected? (Deserved? Demanded?)

"All I need is an idea."-George Lucas

Hyperjump to November 1994. A spark of hope begins to burn brighter as George Lucas finally announces that he has begun writing the long-awaited Episode I. Tantalizing tidbits began to come from official sources. The Star Wars Insider began running articles on the search for locations, actors, and the like. Liam Neeson as a Jedi? Awesome! Natalie Portman playing Luke and Leia's mom? Yesss! And some Scottish dude named MacGregor was reported to be playing young Obi-Wan Kenobi. (Never heard of him. He'll probably never go anywhere after this.)  More reports leaked. Photos of newly constructed sets and ships began popping up like daisies. And finally, on Thanksgiving weekend of 1998, the world got its first look at the new saga as the teaser trailer drops in theaters (We saw it with A Bug's Life) Reports of people paying full ticket prices to get into the theater to see the teaser and leaving immediately thereafter abound. Six more months and two more trailers would pass before May of 1999 and the return of the greatest space saga to ever grace the motion-picture screen.

I saw it that opening weekend. I felt twelve years old again as the theater darkened and my pulse quickened. The immortal words A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... came on screen and the full-to-capacity theater went berserk, so much so that when John Williams' title fanfare blasted through the speakers, it was barely audible. Things finally settled as the opening crawl began to fade and we all settled in to be enthralled.

Two hours and sixteen minutes later, it was all over, and the crowd...was dead silent. No one really seemed to know how to react. I expected to hear applause and there were literally crickets chirping in the background.

I walked from the theater confused. I liked it, that much was certain. The visuals were terrific, the pod race an instant classic, and the nobody Scottish dude was surprisingly good, but it felt...off.

I'm not hating on the movie. Not at all. As I said, I enjoyed it. George Lucas did not ruin my childhood. But while this film looked like Star Wars, it didn't exactly feel like it. The same thing three years later with Attack of the Clones. Fun. Looked great. Introduced Boba Fett and his dad. Still felt off. 2005's Revenge of the Sith, the "final" film of the Star Wars saga did a better job, but still left some questions unanswered, and many more of us shaking our heads as to why Lucas ignored certain established, and critical, points of continuity. But it was all over now. The story had been told, and there was nothing we could do about it.

I have long theorized that the biggest problem of the prequels has not been the script or the acting or the jarring lack of continuity, but we the fans. We all had over a decade to form our own theories as to what would happen, how Vader and the Empire would rise and the Jedi would fall, and very little of what came about fit into those theories. As a writer, I know that it's a trap that we all fall into. we all want to make the fans happy, but we also want to tell the story that we, the writers, want to. There is no way to make everyone happy. Just can't be done. George Lucas told the story that he wanted to tell, and he was unjustly crucified for it. I could relate, and I was resolved that we would never see another Star Wars movie again. (The Clone Wars doesn't, doesn't count.)

Once more we moved on. I began publishing sweeping sci-fi tales of my own, rightly giving Mister Lucas credit for his influence. But there would never be another Star Wars.

Little did we know that there was a mouse looming on the horizon.

Coming soon: Growing Up Star Wars: Episode III, The Re-Awakening.



#starwars #anewhope #theempirestrikesback #returnofthejedi #thephantommenace #attackoftheclones #revengeofthesith #lucasfilm #georgelucas #thestarwarssaga 

Growing up Star Wars: Episode I

I was a late bloomer.

It feels good to finally say that. It's good to have it off my chest. The truth is, I did not see the original Star Wars in theaters until almost nine months after its initial release.

Nine months! I've pretty much spent the rest of my life playing catch-up.

Umm, where's the Jawa?

Granted, this was in an era when popular movies stayed in theaters for more than a month before being booted out by the next potential blockbuster. The original Star Wars (Back before prequels, sequels, spin-offs and episode numbers.) played in some theaters for over a year. And I had no clue as to what this budding cultural phenomenon was. Even after inquiring of one of my kindergarten classmates as to who the Darth Vader guy on his t-shirt was, I had no clue. Even as we drove to the theater to see it on my father's birthday, I was unsure of what we were getting into.

I wish I could tell you my exact reactions to all the incredible images that bombarded us that March afternoon. I want to say I was thrilled as the Star Destroyer loomed overhead in that opening shot, or that I knew instinctively to boo when Darth Vader strode onto the screen the first time, but I honestly have no recollection. I knew I enjoyed it, and remember replaying scenes over in my head on the long drive home, but that was about it. I do remember it took me about a month to stop saying Rookie instead of Wookie, and that for weeks after, I would have nightly dreams of our suburban New York neighborhood being attacked by Sand People. And I remember the exact order in which I got those first 12 action figures in (They are Luke, Vader, Chewie, R2-D2, C-3PO, Leia, Stormtrooper, Ben Kenobi, Han Solo, Tusken Raider, Death Star Commander, and Jawa. Why the Jawa remained so elusive is beyond me. My friend's grandmother in New Jersey had to pick one up for me. Jersey! They were strangely MIA in New York.)

The author (right) at a 1979 meet
and greet with Darth Vader and
Chewbacca. (Dig Chewie's awesome
brown gardening gloves!)

Nevertheless, despite gaps in my young memory as to my first impressions, I was, like so many other kids my age, and please pardon the pun, starstruck. Star Wars threw me in a direction I didn't know existed. Any interest in other things that would preoccupy a seven-year-old boy went out the airlock. Star Wars consumed me. Cars? Meh! Sports? Puhleeze! Girls? Too early for that. My mind went on that journey to a galaxy far, far away, refusing to be brought back to such mundane earthly topics. 

The Summer of 1979 brought about another trip to see the movie in one of its numerous re-releases, this time getting the first sneak look at The Empire Strikes Back. The still-packed theater watched anxiously as each new scene played out before us, We laughed. We thrilled. And when the announcer said "Coming to your galaxy...next summer!" the entire theater, my father included, cried out in one voice "Next summer???" Truly it was a cruel joke to play on the masses to tease us, then make us wait an entire year to see what happened next.

The Empire Strikes Back premiered May 21, 1980, and my then nine-year-old self waited impatiently at our front door to pounce on my work-weary father and implore him with big, puppy-dog eyes, to take me to see it that day!  He was tired. He had a headache. He said yes. We caught an early-evening showing at a theater in Nassau County. I sat there, adrenaline coursing through my small-ish body as every scene played out. I thrilled to the epic snow battle, gained wisdom from Master Yoda's teachings, held my breath waiting to find out if Han survived the carbon-freezing process, then excitedly watched as the Millennium Falcon set out to go rescue him.

Then sat there with my jaw in my lap as the credits rolled. What? It can't end there! What about Han? It wasn't nearly two hours gone already, was it?

It was. I was so swept up that my mind forgot exactly how time worked. Darn you, Mr. Lucas. Darn you to Heck.

For three years I agonized over what would happen next. Luckily, and much to my parent's delight, there were all new toys to play with and map out in my brain where the next film would go. I didn't play with my Han Solo action figure during the entire three years, out of respect for the carbon-frozen hero. During this time, I tried my one and only attempt at filmmaking, using my dad's Super-8 film camera, and a bunch of white towels arranged on the basement couch, I tried to remake the snow

The toys! All the glorious toys!

battle on Hoth. Knowing next to nothing about how the camera operated, I attempted to make my AT-AT walker stride across the fuzzy snowfields of Hoth. The final result was more like an Imperial training video of how an Imperial Walker would operate if driven by a drunken, three-toed, myopic rhinoceros. I would have to find other creative ways to tell my stories.

May 25, 1983 and the release of the (then) final chapter in the Star Wars saga, Return of the Jedi premiered. I had thought of little else since May of three years earlier. But instead of going to the theater and standing in line with my friends to see it, I sat at home watching reviews of it on TV newscasts because I had a raging case of strep throat. Obviously, the Dark Side was at work here. It didn't matter that I knew the entire story, having obtained a rogue copy of the Marvel Comics adaptation a month before. It needed to be seen. I needed to see it. I could not show my face in school the day after Memorial Day having been the only one to not see it.

Fortunately, the Light Side of the Force was with me. I not only saw it that Saturday morning, but again on Monday morning when my older brother decided to take me again. We might have had our differences, but for that brief, shining moment, my brother was the coolest guy in the galaxy, and I was the coolest guy in school. Suck it up, losers! I saw it twice!

It was Jedi that inspired me to start writing my own science fiction stories, and I soon after began crafting my own epic. Twelve glorious hand-written pages; the first five or six of which were actually my own creation. The rest was plagiarized from the space battle scenes of the Jedi novelization, with names creatively changed to protect my innocence.

The saga was finished, but we all knew there was more to be told. George Lucas said so himself. We all waited feverishly for the announcement that the new trilogy was due to begin filming soon. Since there were gaps of three years between the first trilogy, reason dictated that by the summer of 1986, we would all be voyaging back to that galaxy far, far away. just a matter of time...

Circa 1986. Umm, Mister Lucas? George? Hello?

Anyone?

Coming soon: Growing Up Star Wars: Episode II, The Sequels, er, um...the Prequels.



#starwars #anewhope #theempirestrikesback #returnofthejedi #lucasfilm #georgelucas #thestarwarssaga #kennertoys