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Roger Kastel, 1979, original artist |
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Athough there's no compelling reason as to why you might actually care, allow me to present the following, a capsule history of my encounters with “Star Wars” and other George Lucas related productions... |
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| When “THX-1138” came out in the fantasy starved
days of 1971, I was well aware of it,
but
due to its severely limited release,
never
quite managed to get out to see it.
All these
decades on, I still haven't. Two years later, looking for a movie to kill an evening with, me and some buddies wound up at a showing of “American Graffiti”. Due to one of the regulars dragging along a friend outside our usual circle, we wound up arriving nearly a half hour after the show had started. Always Mr. Prompt, I found this turn of events to be highly annoying, so to placate me, all present agreed we'd stay and sit through the beginning of the next show to see what we had missed. Well, we were all so totally mesmerized by the story that played out up on the screen that, to a man, we gladly sat though an entire second showing of “American Graffiti”. At the time, we were all very near the ages of the film's characters, and I think that served to add an emotional resonance to what is, in any event, a highly skilled and entertaining slice of movie magic. The icing on the cinematic cake had to be that haunting epilogue, wherein what fate had in store for the sixties' based protagonists during the ensuing decade was clearly and, in some cases, tragically spelled out. To this day, I still can't listen to the joyful opening notes of The Beach Boys “All Summer Long” without thinking of the credit roll that immediately followed the story's bittersweet coda. Music—MY generation's music—had never been utilized so effectively on the big screen before. "American Graffiti" remains a sentimental favorite of mine. I watched it again about two years ago, and while it didn't seem nearly as fresh as it once did, it was clearly a trailblazer in it's time, spawning an entire genre of teen nostalgia flicks over the past 30 odd years. In early 1977, I dutifully read—just like I dutifully read EVERYTHING Marvel Comics published in those days--the first three issues of STAR WARS, Roy Thomas and Howie Chaykin's adaptation of the then upcoming sci-fi flick. Nice enough, I thought, but like everyone else, I really had no hint of the massive media explosion that was just around the corner. Well, a week or so into its initial run, Lynn and I fought the crowds, and finally got a gander at what all the fuss was about, viewing the new Lucas film on what truly was a big screen. And, like most everybody else at the time, we were completely blown away! WHOA!!-- nothing like THIS had ever hit the popcorn palaces before, that was for sure!... Still, it was a decidedly odd way to experience the story, since I already knew half of it before I even sidled up to the ticket counter!?! When, sitting there in the dark, events finally reached the third issue's cliffhanger, I figured, hey, we have us a ways left to go--but was subsequently surprised when, instead, the film quickly wrapped up. Apparently, Thomas and Chaykin top-loaded the first portion of their adaptation with exposition, leaving the latter half to deal with that interminable X-wing battle sequence... Yeah, that's where they lost me. Certainly, a lotta folks seem to find that final epic battle to be the very definition of “thrilling”, but to me, well, it got tedious real fast. Hey, what can I say? I'm not an epic battle lovin'-type guy—never have been, never will be. Still, despite that sore point, and even though I thought the movie ended abruptly, with it's cheesy “Wizard Of Oz”-like awards ceremony, I must say I was reasonably impressed. I was probably MOST impressed with John Williams symphonic score, as I quickly went out and grabbed the bombastic soundtrack double LP set, and played it's heroic themes over and over again. Y'know, we even went back a few weeks later to see “Star Wars” a second time—something that I virtually never do—happily welcoming the interstellar franchise to the pop culture landscape. (Yeah, that means I watched that Thanksgiving TV special, too...) I was also effectively primed for the debut of “Battlestar Galactica”, heralded by the ABC television network as being from—be still, my heart!--the very same folks who brought you “Star Wars”! Well, yeah, it was, I suppose—from the very same folks who did the special effects, anyway. As far as the overall concept went, well, I know the program still has its fans out there—and maybe, had I been a bit younger and more impressionable (be advised I was 24 when the Lucas saga first hit theaters), I'd be one to this day—but it only took me a single episode to quickly determine that “Star Wars” was “Citizen Kane” in comparison to it's small screen bastard child... I went to see both “The Empire Strikes Back” and “Return Of The Jedi” within several weeks of their release (but not, I assure you, on opening day). The concensus has always been that the middle film was the best of the lot, and who am I to argue? I agree. (And, oh by the way, the above illo redoing Roger Kastel's iconic poster was commissioned by John Higashi for his extensive "Star Wars" art gallery, just as my reinterpetation of the first film's Hildebrant Brothers painting was—go take a look! Lotsa good stuff there--especially if you're at all partial to the Lucas saga! And speaking of which...) The last of the initial trio was, well, okay, if a bit overlong--AND evincing a none-too-subtle creeping commercialism, blatantly personified by the too-cute-to-bear Ewoks. I'd learned my lesson and hadn't read Marvel's take on the latter two-thirds of the trilogy until AFTER seeing them (my policy is, if I'm spending precious time and good money on any sort of dramatic presentation, I like to be surprised—otherwise, why bother?). I continued to read Marvel's ongoing STAR WARS title up on through right til the end of its long run (yup, even Roy's wacky giant rabbit detour early on didn't deter me). Hey, with talents like Archie Goodwin, Carmine Infantino, Terry Austin, Tom Palmer, and the Simonson's at the helm—to name but a few--how could I not? Besides, like I said, that's just what I did in those days. I compulsively read SHOGUN WARRIORS, too, I'm rather sheepish to admit... Caught “More American Graffiti” on cable in the mid-eighties. A serviceable but ultimately forgettable sequel. Of which I can't say much more because, well, there's nothing much I remember about it. Hey, I SAID it was forgettable, didn't I?... Roundabouts the same time period, sitting in front of the tube over at the in-laws one quiet evening, the original “Star Wars” suddenly came on, and before you knew it, Lynn's dad and brother were completely drawn in. Not wanting to be impolite—and really, having no casual way to sneak away—I too sat and watched it for what was now my third time (and the first in a decade). It was okay, but it wouldn't have been my first choice of television viewing that evening, given my druthers (or the remote). Still, when in Rome—and ESPECIALLY when with the wife's family, y'know?... Okay, brace yourself--now comes the part where I lose what little credibility I may still have with you folks, but hey, I've gotta tell it like it is—or was. Lynn and I were members of a packed theater the very night the Lucas overseen production of “Howard The Duck” hit the nation's multiplexes (yeah, THAT one we managed to attend opening eve!)—and I LOVED it! Honest. Why, I was actually looking forward to the sequel hinted at in the end credits! I mean, okay, the Duck outfit looked pretty lame, sure, but outside of that minor glitch, it was a pretty good movie, right? Right? RIGHT?!?... All right, maybe I AM crazy—I'll cop to the possibility. But y'know, that wasn't the only problem the movie had. I clearly recall that sitting directly behind me at the initial showing was a father and his young daughter (6 or 7 years old, maybe). They'd chattered enthusiastically before the lights went down in anticipation of what was about to unspool, but 90 or so minutes later, I distinctly recall the poor kid crying hysterically during the climax as Howard and his crew battled a really nasty looking monster! It made me wonder just WHO this thing was aimed at. That overly gruesome creature brought tears to children's eyes--and Howard's duck suit did the same for the adults! Someone recently opined that if you took the very same film and erased the fowl-suited actors and replaced them with some decent CGI effects, you'd have yourself a hit film! Maybe—and then maybe I'd FINALLY get to see the Duck's still delayed second episode... Then there were those much heralded “Special Editions” released to theaters in the nineties. We took Julie to see the first one—my fourth go-round with the original, for those of you keeping score at home—but she was just at that precipitous age where, while she'd contentedly sit transfixed for a quality cartoon feature, she'd instead squirm mercilessly during the somewhat less kid-friendly militaristic adventure found in the gussied up “Star Wars”. Plus, it was LOUD, incredibly so! Arrgh. NOT a fun experience for the family, not at all, so when the “Special Eds” of the subsequent two chapters came out, we scotched our original plans, deciding it best if we just quietly stayed home. So—final totals, sports fans--turns out I only ever saw “The Empire Strikes Back” and “Return of the Jedi” once apiece. Hmmpf--what a slacker... When "The Phantom Menace" burst forth to great media fanfare, well, I'll admit to being interested—until I read the relentlessly mediocre (at best) reviews. And all the negative press about this Jar Jar Binks character pretty much soured me altogether on the notion of dragging my admittedly lazy butt out to the local cinema, and sure enough, I never did get around to seeing it. Sometime later, Lynn bought a used VHS copy for cheap off of eBay, but still, it sits sadly in the corner, all but ignored... And if I didn't make it to that introductory chapter of the second trilogy, well, what are the chances that I'd take in the second episode, "Attack of the Clones"? Zip, zero, zilch and none, natch. I'm thinking maybe—MAYBE—when the last one eventually comes out, I'll see 'em all in one big frenzy of viewing, but who knows for certain. (And no, I don't collect the Dark Horse STAR WARS comics, either. Considering my diminished appertite for new comics these days, I probably wouldn't give SHOGUN WARRIORS a second glance, even if Alan Moore and Frank Miller were in charge...) So no, I DIDN'T rush out and buy the “Star Wars Trilogy” DVD set like the rest of you did earlier this week (I'm writing this on September 24th, 2004, for the historians in the audience). Y'know, I sincerely doubt I ever will. But please understand, I bear no malice toward the ever burgeoning legion of Lucas-ites out there—had the whole thing come along at a slightly different time, I could've easily fallen completely under the sway of the Force. As it was, well, I was just barely coming out of my adolescence when it hit, and most of my primary obsessions were already deeply ingrained. But if it's your thing, swell—enjoy your brand spanking new DVD set! Me, I'm anxiously awaiting a trip to our local Best Buy outlet this October 19th, and then to the always overpriced Hoyt's Cinema the following November 19th. Why? Well, friends, that's cuz October sees the release of the complete second season of (oboy!) “SpongeBob SquarePants” on three fun-filled DVDs, and a month later brings a grateful nation the little yellow fellow's big screen debut--and here in the Hembeck household at least, the excitement is palpable and already building! “SpongeBob” and “Star Wars”--apples and oranges, folks, apples and oranges. So, let the Force be with YOU, "Star Wars" fans--and let the Farce be with ME, okay? (...now, THERE'S a fresh line, hmm?...) |
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