“There has been an awakening . . . Have you felt it?”
The last time I felt this way, I was 9 years old. I had just watched my first “grown up movie” — no animation or chorus line music to be seen or heard. That movie was Star Wars (now known as Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope), and the year was 1996. Ever since, I have been searching to regain that feeling I had while watching the surprising and hopeful adventure unfold on the screen before me.
Why does Star Wars mean so much to me? Because it was the first time I was consciously aware of the work of a storyteller. I have always loved stories — my mother read to me before bedtime throughout my childhood and I am a child of the Disney Animation Studio’s second golden age. But Star Wars awakened me to the process of telling a story, the choices a storyteller makes about what to include and what to leave out.
When I originally watched Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi in 1996, it was the theatrical versions — George Lucas did not release his 20th anniversary “special edition” (with remastered sound and picture, new CG, and added scenes) until the next year. Although some of the changes were undoubtedly improvements, much of George’s tinkering over the years has hindered his story.
With the original trilogy, George and his collaborators got so many things right. The key thing they got right was that every element served the story. From the actors to the groundbreaking practical effects to John Williams’ brilliant score, every piece served the grander vision of the story. Often in the reworked editions, as well as in the prequels, technology overshadowed the story, becoming burdensome and distracting. The theatrical versions may seem dated technologically, but they also feel seamless. With the updates, the places where old and new were sown together are painfully obvious at times.
When the sequel trilogy was announced in 2012, I was simultaneously thrilled and terrified. I longed for another taste of what I experienced when I was 9 — to fall in love with characters and be swept up in a giant tale about the struggle between light and darkness. Yet the prequels had left me distrusting: could there ever be another good Star Wars movie? The prequels had been bogged down in excessive CG, political nonsense, and a leading man who — although his last name was Skywalker — was no Luke.
When the first trailer for The Force Awakens was released in November 2014, it still seemed like an eternity to wait. Each subsequent trailer strengthened my hope that this was a return to the original trilogy. At the same time, with my raised hopes came the realisation that the stakes were high — I cared too much. A friend asked me what I thought the new film would be like. I replied that either it would be amazing or it would break my heart.
Dramatic? Yes. But almost 20 years of waiting has made me dramatic. My love for Star Wars, forged at a young age, has always burned in my heart. And I can tell you that the fire in my heart was stoked and strengthened last night as I watched The Force Awakens. I laughed, friends. I fell in love with every new character and I thrilled every time an old character stepped into the frame. I wished that BB-8 could come home with me. I cried — genuinely wept for a good 20 minutes during the film. It was everything I had hoped for. The last time I felt this way, I was 9 years old. It felt good to be 9, again.
