There is not a time when I don’t remember having loved Star Wars: the heroism of Luke Skywalker, the mysticism of the Force, and the cool-factor of ligthsabers.
Before the arrival of the ‘Special Edition’ remasters of the original movies, I was eagerly reading official novel sequels and side-stories. By the time of the prequels, I had wore thin the spine to my copies of Tales from Jabba’s Palace and the Essential Guide to all the main characters of the films and expanded universe.
It’s a sort of surreal feeling to watch the transformation of this world I grew up immersing myself, from a somewhat marginal piece of fiction into this cultural juggernaut comprising a dozen theatrical releases and about as many TV series. The classmates (and even adults) who belittled me for enjoying Star Wars are now buying its shirts for themselves, slapping its stickers on their cars and water bottles.
I have wanted for a long time for culture at large to embrace nerd-things, to finally see the imaginative worlds I had seen. It’s a sad irony, then, that as this happened, I no longer enjoy Star Wars. Out of the two dozen movies and shows, my opinion is that most of them are simply bad cinematic storytelling.
I recall watching the Special Editions and being annoyed by many of the changes. I remember watching Episode I in theater the opening weekend and being utterly baffled as to what the actual plot was. These two characters are obviously the same person, the future Emperor, but what was the goal of the Trade Federation? I was the target audience, but I was bored and confused. I tried pushing through this discontent, but, by the time of Episode III, I had decided they were genuinely bad movies.
Per the adage that ‘you can never go home again’, once I realized and understood the immense shortcomings in the prequels—the result of a filmmaker unwilling to accept the overwhelmingly negative response—I couldn’t avoid seeing those same shortcomings (to a lesser degree) in the original trilogy. The sloppy, circular editing in Star Wars (the first movie). The lazy retconning in The Empire Strikes Back for shock value. The merchandise-first approach to Return of the Jedi.
Yet, once the franchise was out of its creator’s hands, the sequel trilogy was ruined before it even got started. Crushed in the hand of a cynical capitalistic giant which immediately declared its breakneck intention to pump out one theatrical release every year.
To be clear, I do not think all of the films are unenjoyable. But I do think that, on average, there are only two good movies: most of ESB, along with the broad-strokes narrative of SW and Luke’s arc in the second half of ROTJ. The prequels are thoroughly unwatchable. Episode VII is only as good as the chemistry of the lead actors allow it to be, since the decision to make it a one-to-one remake of the original film sucks all tension out of the viewing experience. The rest of the movies boring or insulting.
In regards to the TV series, the only good one is Andor, which felt unbeholden to the greed for nostalgic key-dangling which permeates all the others. Even the first season of The Mandalorian, which I did think was a fun adventure, nevertheless constantly asks the viewer if they remember this or that thing from all the previous movies and shows.
I find myself sadly agreeing with the reviews which argue that Andor is not ‘just’ good Star Wars, but good cinematic storytelling in spite of belonging to the franchise. Its narrative depends just enough on Star Wars lore that it cannot have been fully detached without immediate comparisons, but otherwise operates on such a level that it does not require the viewer to have ever seen anything else from Star Wars to fully appreciate its narrative and themes.
I do want other people to love Star Wars if they find things in it which catch their interest or spark their imagination. I’m just sad I don’t anymore.