Where’s Lando?
Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and Leia Organa are all recognized as proper names by Microsoft Word 2010. When I type Lando Calrissian it tries to correct it to Land Carissin.
Star Wars has always been important to me. I remember going to Best Buy with my dad in the late 90s, maybe six years old, to buy the special edition VHS tapes when they first came out. I came to know those tapes like they were a part of me: the dull gold box, the weight of the cassettes, the exact amount of time you needed to fast forward them to get to the title crawl. The stories they told captivated me, spoke to the most essential parts of me, claimed my boyhood and left an indelible mark on the man I’ve grown to be.
What grabbed me the most, unsurprisingly, was the rebels. First Luke, Leia, and Han, each an archetype in their own right, fundamentally simple but instantly likable. Then Chewbacca, C3PO, and R2-D2, alien but still so human, so essential to the team. And later, maybe my favorite, the sultan of sabacc, the count of the clouds, the only man in the galaxy cooler than Han Solo, Lando Calrissian.
I mean, come on, the guy had a cape, he ran a badass city in the clouds, and his mustache made him look kinda like my dad. How could I not love him? Sure, he sold the rebels out, but he did it for the good of the people he’d sworn to protect, and when push came to shove, he risked everything to do what was right. By the end of Empire Strikes Back, he was a fundamental part of the Rebel Alliance — he helped save Luke after his first duel with Vader, rescued Han from his carbonite prison, and helped lead the assault on the second Death Star. He was a hero.
Lots of people hated the prequel trilogy — growing up, I loved them. Plot holes, bad acting, bad special effects, none of them mattered to me: as soon as I saw “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away” I checked my critical instincts at the door and let myself be absorbed into the universe. I read every Star Wars book I could find. I tried to teach myself how to fight with a plastic lightsaber. I watched the movies over, and over, and over again. They never grew to bore me. Even when I got older and began to see why people had so many issues with 1, 2, and 3, I still held a special place for them in my heart: they were flawed, but they gave me such a sense of wonder.
I was more excited than almost anyone I knew when the new trilogy was announced. I didn’t think twice about merchandising cash-ins or continuity errors, I rejoiced at the thought of seeing some of my oldest friends in a new light. I liked Force Awakens a lot, despite its cautious retreading of the original trilogy. When I went to see The Last Jedi last night, it made my heart sing one of its oldest songs. But I have one big question.
Where’s Lando?
Almost every other major character from the original trilogy has been brought back. Luke, Han, and Leia, Chewbacca, C3PO, R2-D2, all of them have developed in the years since Return of the Jedi, and all of them have been given essential roles to play. I mean, c’mon, Admiral Ackbar, a squid-person with one notable line in Return of the Jedi, is given almost the same amount of screen time as he was in the original trilogy.
But where’s Lando?
Maybe he’s been running guns for the Resistance. Maybe, unlike the other rebel heroes, he’s actually built a healthy, functioning family. Maybe he rebuilt Cloud City. Maybe he died, maybe he became evil, maybe he’s been taking over the organized crime ring left behind by Jabba the Hutt’s death. We don’t know, we have no idea, because neither of the new films has bothered to so much as mention him.
The omission of Lando Calrissian isn’t because Billy Dee Williams isn’t interested in returning. In fact, Billy Dee Williams has said over and over again that he loved playing Lando, and that he would jump at a chance to put on the blue and gold cape again. Everyone from Mark Hamill to Rian Johnson has said that he’s one of their favorite characters, and that they’d love to see him return.
So where’s Lando?
I don’t want to write the essay deconstructing Black invisibility in mainstream science fiction. I don’t want to write the essay examining why incorporating some characters from the first Star Wars trilogy is a given, and incorporating others is an afterthought. I don’t even want to write the essay breaking down how there’s exactly one important Black character in each of the Star Wars trilogies.
I just want to know where Lando is.
I just want to see him again. I want to know that he’s spent his years well, that he’s happy, and that he’s still the incorrigible rogue with a heart of gold that I looked up to as a kid. I want to see him confidently strolling onto the bridge of a starship, wearing a cape and a grin the size of the Millennium Falcon. I want to see him gambling with his life, risking everything to help his friends and make a better future for the galaxy. But most of all, I want to see the first Black man in space fly once more — brave, charming, limitless.
