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May the Fourth Be With You
The start of an incredible lifelong love originated for me here.
I was five years old.
I couldn’t tell you what theatre we were at or where exactly we were seated. It was Duluth, Minnesota in 1977. The trumpets blared, the crawl came across the screen, and a moment later a ship being fired upon and firing back came flying in. I was hooked.
Star Wars would cement my love of sci-fi. Oh, there have been other books, TV, and movies that I love and still love — but my first love is Star Wars.
I could not tell you how many times I saw the movies of the original trilogy in the theatre. Then, when we had VHS, I can’t tell you how many times I watched those movies again. For the record — the ONLY videotapes I still own are the boxed set original trilogy (letterboxed).
Then we got the prequels.
At the time, I was just happy to return to my beloved Star Wars universe. The music, the aliens, the scenery. To be sure, they are not good films. The plot holes are particularly large, the acting impeded by Lucas’ inability to write believable dialogue — and a total lack of chemistry between the actors playing lovers.
There are moments of merit in the prequels. But they mostly are skippable.
