There. I said it out loud. I. HATE. STAR WARS.
When the original Star Wars movie came out in 1977 I was
eleven years old. I saw it. I loved it. I saw it again.
Then I saw The Empire Strikes Back in 1980 and The Return of
the Jedi in 1983. I liked each of these sequels, but less than I had liked the original.
When the next batch of movies started to come out in 1999, I
did not even bother to go see them.
I cannot for the life of me fathom how these movies have
stayed popular for so long among adults. They are poorly written, terribly
acted, and entirely simplistic. The reason the eleven-year old me loved Star
Wars was the fact that the thin story and stiff acting were hidden behind some
cool special effects and Carrie Fisher in revealing outfits.
The names of the characters alone are enough for me to know
that a person with the creative vision of a 12-year old boy was behind the
whole enterprise. Lando Calrissian? Boba Fett? Moff Jerjerrod? JarJar Binks?
A freakin’ break give me.
