Like many other nerds, geeks and weirdos who grew up in the 80s-90s, my beginnings of pop-culture fandom began with “Star Wars.” What wasn’t there to like: A hero’s journey with an annoying farm kid, a British robot and another that beeped swear words along the way, a scruffy headed nerf-herder, a badass princess and a villain that towered over his enemies with a black respirator and his laser sword and choked people with his mind.
It opened the doors of imagination. Like, holy (REDACTED) this can be a huge world! Fans wrote their fan fiction, George Lucas made mountains of money and,until 1999, there was only three of these movies (no, those stupid Ewok adventures do not count).
Then came the dark times, then came the prequels…
Look, I am not going to rag on the prequels because, frankly, that’s been done to death. The only one I can’t rewatch is “Phantom Menace.” The other two have their moments that I enjoy.
Now, when I heard Disney was buying Lucasfilm, like many other fans, I was a bit overjoyed and skeptical because:
- We would be getting more “Star Wars.”
- It would be Disney “Star Wars,” so what the hell was that going to be like?
At first, things seemed to be OK. When I heard Episode VII would bring back the original cast, I was pumped. And frankly, what they have churned out since have been pretty decent flicks.
But that’s neither here nor there. Because frankly I am “Star Wars”-out. I’m exhausted.
This weekend “Solo: A Star Wars Story” was released. And my enthusiasm is at near zero. Not because I hate “Star Wars,” I am just over-saturated with it. It hasn’t been six months since “The Last Jedi” and here we are, about to venture once again to a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
I will see it, probably Monday, but it feels more out of routine than general interest. Maybe if it came out in December, so I could have time to digest the last action packed war among the stars, I’d have a bit more interest. As it is, even with a killer cast and featuring one of the most iconic film characters of the past 40 years, I just kinda don’t care.
And then when you add the prospective ones coming down the pike: Episode IX, Obi-Wan, Boba (REDACTED) Fett? I mean, with the way things are going, can we expect “Lobot: A Star Wars Story” or “Tickle Them Keys: The Max Rebo Story” in the next few years?
I’m tired. And here is the thing: Unlike, say, the Marvel or DC films which I feel zero obligation in seeing because there is not enough free time in the world to justify sitting through all that, I have the connection with “Star Wars” that makes me feel compelled to see these movies, even when I don’t really want to.
It feels like a cursed wish we fans asked innocently from a demented genie: We wished for more “Star Wars” after the prequels wrapped up (especially since “Revenge of the Sith” felt like George finally remembered how to make a decent movie). And our wish was granted by the House of Mouse, who now pummels us with a new (REDACTED) movie every year now. Sometimes two in a matter of 12 months. It’s obscene.
Asking for some breathing room isn’t too much is it? When it comes to a billion-dollar industry, it probably is. Disney bought a money machine, and they know the purchasing power of nostalgia to cash in.
So come Monday, I will mosey into the theater with a bucket of popcorn and an embarrassingly large soda (I get thirsty, OK people!) and I will kill a few hours in a dark, air conditioned room as my senses get pummeled with audio and visual effects. I hope I have fun, but I am kinda burned out with the franchise at this point.