Star Wars: The Force Awakens is more than just a movie. For many, it’s a way back to an almost-forgotten love.
A prequel of sorts
I was 12 years old when my father told me the story of Star Wars over the dinner table one Friday night. It was 1999, and the galaxy far, far, away was about to change forever.
That night, my mind was opened to a world of talking machines, to old men who died in appalling grace. That night, I learned how to destroy worlds, how to declare your love, how to understand mysterious fathers.
That night, I awoke to Star Wars for the first time.
What followed was a period of intense, overwhelming love — it was childish, and it was true. I remember my legs dangling from the couch as my eyes raced to read the opening crawl spooling off a VHS tape. I remember crying for brief, brave X-Wing pilots, and wondering why Han had to be such an idiot.
I also remember when my love for Star Wars fell asleep, as the credits rolled on Revenge of the Sith. I walked stiffly out of the theater, feeling empty. Feeling tired.
“Well, that’s it,” I thought. “Star Wars is over.”
Dark times
As it turns out, I am not the only one who felt this way. Many fans have experienced a waning in their attachment to Star Wars in recent years.
“I thought the property was dead,” admits John Rocha, who fell in love with Star Wars in the ’70s. Like many (many) fans, Rocha’s journey away from the property began with George Lucas’ Prequel Trilogy.
“The magnitude of the letdown I felt after the last installment cannot be quantified,” he recalls. “It offended me on so many levels.”
Greg Gershman, who was born three months before the release of A New Hope in 1977, says he can’t remember a time when he didn’t love Star Wars. What he does remember — quite vividly, in fact — is his lowest point as a fan.
“May 19, 1999, at about 10:00 a.m., right after I saw Phantom Menace,” he says. “The crash from expectation to reality was jarring.”
Others held onto hope longer, but had an even more drastic response to the new films. For Matt Hezel, who has been “hooked” on the story since the age of six, it was Episode II that caused the fracture.
Attack of the Clones, he says, was “the complete opposite of everything that I had loved about the Original Trilogy.” Hezel didn’t bother buying a ticket for Revenge of the Sith.
But as in any discussion of the Star Wars canon, it’s worth noting that, for as many fans as they alienated, condemnation of the Prequel Trilogy is far from universal. Many enjoyed them straight off, or came to appreciate them over time. The new films also drew a younger generation to Star Wars, and led many to take their first steps into the larger world offered by the Expanded Universe novels.
Matt Hezel actually turned to the “EU” (a constellation of largely-connected Star Wars books and comics that until recently comprised the galactic canon) because of his frustration with the Prequels. And Faith Parke-Dodge, who grew into her own as a fan during the Prequel era, came to the Expanded Universe from the opposite direction.
“I discovered the EU the summer before 9th grade and became completely obsessed,” she recalls. “I read the Han Solo Trilogy and the X-Wing series that year, probably five times.”
Aside from a deep, meaningful relationship with a series chronicling the adventures of (a dashing and angst-ridden) padawan-aged Obi-Wan Kenobi, I had no involvement with the Expanded Universe. The labyrinthine structure intimidated me, and it seemed strange to continue Luke, Leia and Han’s adventures in text, rather than onscreen.
But according to Tricia Barr, author of Ultimate Star Wars and FANgirlblog.com, many fans “found their niche in the Expanded Universe.” Barr credits Timothy Zahn’s acclaimed Thrawn Trilogy (which even I had heard of) especially as it acted like a light for many in the “dark times” before the Prequels.
But the EU itself turned out to be something of a double-edged lightsaber (so to speak) for many loyal readers. Even the incredibly passionate Barr experienced diminishing returns in the novels.
“The ongoing Expanded Universe struggled with maintaining the tone of Star Wars,” she says. “I saw huge numbers of longtime adult fans, including many of my friends, drifting away from the franchise.”
Barr took action, founding her blog to create a positive space for discussion and inclusivity in the fandom. But even she herself felt her faith in the Force waver as time went on.
“I was struggling as a Star Wars fan two or three years ago,” she says. “My passion was the books, and the powers that be were disconnected from their female customers.”
Parke-Dodge felt similarly disillusioned. As she grew older, her intense love of the series waned, and she drifted away from the property.
“I was still a [Star Wars] fan, but it was no longer my every waking thought,” she admits. “I was no longer interested in anything new because I felt like this world I had lived in was being destroyed… so I just stopped immersing myself.”
Next: All is not lost
Stronger than you can possibly imagine
But no matter what forces pulled them away, many reawakening Star Wars fans have one thing in common:
“I never stopped being a fan of Star Wars,” says Matt Hezel, echoing a sentiment heard over and over among once-distanced enthusiasts. No matter how far they may have drifted from the galaxy of lightsabers and Jedi, Star Wars fans’ identities as Star Wars fans frequently remained, stubborn as a scar — or a Rebel Alliance tattoo, in Park-Dodge’s case.
Jay Ubilla, a fan since childhood, experienced a slump in the mid-2000s — and had to leave his collectibles behind when he moved from Puerto Rico.
But the core of his passion for Star Wars was never quenched. “It’s always with me,” Ubilla says.
I, too, can attest to this occasionally strange, enduring loyalty. For years, my involvement with the franchise had essentially evaporated. I watched no movies, read no books, collected no toys. I was in a self-imposed Siberia of Star Wars; our relationship, for all intents and purposes, no longer existed.
Except that it did exist — simply because I wanted it to. I had years of mixed feelings behind me and no new material in sight, but if anyone had asked me if I were a Star Wars fan, I would never have considered saying no.
This persistent loyalty isn’t universal among Star Wars fans, nor is it unique to them. There have long been Trekkies in the blank space between Star Trek installments, and passionate Harry Potter fans hunkered down for their own “dark times” years before Fantastic Beasts was even a rumor. Time works a little differently in fandom; it often preserves, rather than erodes, the passion of long ago.
But what may really be unique is the persistence of even distant fans in the aftermath of one of the greatest traumas in modern pop-culture. Love them, loathe them, or hover somewhere in between, the popular narrative around the Star Wars Prequels is indisputably negative — not to mention dismissive and outright disdainful. Jar Jar Binks is a simile for failure; even the great name of George Lucas evolved from an icon of genius to an object of an abiding suspicion.
And yet, hundreds of thousands of “inner fans” survived, quietly, sleeping.
Like they — like we — were waiting for something to wake us up.
The evil Empire?
On Oct. 30, 2012, the Walt Disney Company acquired Lucasfilm for four billion dollars. The move added the largest entertainment franchise in history (period) to Disney’s already swollen family, and immediately effected changes in the landscape of Star Wars. George Lucas was out as president of Lucasfilm; producer Kathleen Kennedy was in.
And Star Wars Episode VII — that unthinkable fantasy – was on its way.
The cultural noise was deafening, a tsunami of reporting and speculation, excitement and panic. But I — or rather, my inner Star Wars fan — was not ready to be woken up. My thoughts played on a loop recalled from that evening in 2005. Star Wars is over. I thought we agreed. We can’t go back — Star Wars is over.
Reactions to the Great Acquisition varied among Star Wars fans of every stripe. Some were thrilled that the franchise would continue in its cinematic incarnation; others were wary of the potential “Disney-fication” of the property. Many fans were devastated by the de-canonization of the Expanded Universe — those stories now live in an alternate history category called “Legends.”
“Honestly, I was pissed,” Faith Parke-Dodge recalls. “I wanted Lucasfilm to just leave well enough alone.”
Greg Gershman was also skeptical about the Disney acquisition, but had reasons to be hopeful. “I’d lost all faith in George Lucas,” he says — if nothing else, the move put Star Wars in different creative hands, opening the door to new possibilities.
Possibilities that, heedless of my confusion or Parke-Dodge’s anger or Gershman’s resignation, were rapidly coalescing into reality. J.J. Abrams was at the helm, the title The Force Awakens was announced, the cast covertly assembled. Spoiler-seekers flooded the internet, peddling miraculous scoops; the Millennium Falcon crushed Han Solo’s leg, and no one knew whether to laugh or cry.
I shrugged it off, and stopped paying attention. My inner Star Wars fan, in a fitful half-dream, rolled over and went back to sleep.
How we awaken
“There has been an awakening,” a voice growled. “Have you felt it?”
The voice trembled above a blistering sandscape; a man in white armor appeared, dripping sweat and terror.
And deep in my memory, from where she slept under under an avalanche of years, my inner Star Wars fan woke up. She could smell a brew of sandy, sweaty, space-fantasy. She could hear familiar music, and see familiar stories playing across new faces.
It was the work of 88 seconds. A minute earlier, I had sighed at the arrival of the first brief trailer for The Force Awakens and clicked “play” as a skeptic. I closed the window as a stunned believer.
But that, of course, was just the beginning. The past year has been a gigantic, churning progress of Star Wars promotion, drops and hints that coalesced into a galactic supertrain determined to carry our culture along for the ride. The first cars were full of fans whose fervor had never faded, but wave upon wave of awakening fans leapt for a seat as the train picked up speed.
At its most profound, the impact has been as visceral and real as the films themselves. Greg Gershman, burned by The Phantom Menace, wept at the second trailer. Even mourning the EU, Faith Parke-Dodge couldn’t stop watching. Multiple fans told me they had taken Dec. 18 off from work — with months to go before the film’s release.
“They have captured the real feeling of Star Wars again,” says John Rocha, who now hosts a weekly podcast called Far, Far Away. Rocha has immersed himself in the fabled galaxy once again, and finds further faith in the books, comics, and TV shows now presided over by Lucasfilm’s story group.
“[They] have just given you the idea that they’re going to get this right,” he says.
Fans who have been immersed in the saga for the long haul have also noticed a marked change in the fandom.
“More people are remembering what they love about Star Wars, and that excites me,” says Bryan Young, a writer who contributes frequently to StarWars.com. Fans of every stripe, he believes, are once again uniting under the banner of their passion — regardless of which part of the story holds their love (or their antipathy).
“We all wanted to know what happened [after Return of the Jedi],” Young says. “We have all the major players back to show us what that is.”
Tricia Barr agrees.
“I have seen friends who were fearful of Disney’s hand in Star Wars take a breath,” she says, reflecting on the past year of promotion and excitement. “I have seen a renewed sense of community that I felt as a child of the original trilogy era and again when The Phantom Menace hit theaters.”
“Most importantly,” Barr says, highlighting a crucial transformation in the franchise, “I have seen female fans become empowered.”
Star Wars: The Force Awakens will not be the Star Wars my father introduced me to, nor will it be the Star Wars that broke the world again in 1999. The galaxy far, far away is beginning to reflect our own world, boasting a diversity among its cast and creative team that — let’s face it — is advanced even by today’s standards. My inner Star Wars fan can imagine herself in glorious center of the poster, and nostalgia aside, I’m pretty that’s why she’s still awake.
“Kathleen Kennedy’s forthright commitment to female fans has paved the way for change,” Barr says. “Fans have heard her speak publicly about her goals to elevate the roles of women in the galaxy far, far away. It causes a trickle-down effect: The Lucasfilm culture cannot ignore it, nor can the licensees. She is a one-woman Force for change.”
New hope
And now here we are. Fans have been edged around theaters for days. The Force Awakens held its world premiere last night in Los Angeles. Tomorrow, theaters in Europe will begin playing the most coveted film of the year, and I’m breaking out my Princess Leia cookie cutters for Thursday night’s celebrations.
But thrilled as I am to finally see The Force Awakens in all its (hopeful) glory, I’m already almost nostalgic for these days of unifying mystery. Now, before the onslaught of opinions, before we shiver at the stakes, Star Wars fans across our wide little world are united. Before Rogue One and Episode VIII, that Han Solo movie, and Episode IX, and all the Star Wars films to come — right now, all we can do is pause.
Amazed. Excited. And gloriously awake.
Can you feel it?