This post is spoiler free.
Last Thursday, Mason and I attended a 6:05 p.m. showing of Star Wars: Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker. To quote Darth Vader, “the circle is now complete.”
Except for A New Hope (I was just shy of four years old in May of 1977 when it was released), I’ve seen every theatrically-released Star Wars film on opening day. My dad took me to see Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back and Episode VI: Return of the Jedi as a kid; in 1997, I saw the re-released special editions of the original trilogy while Susan and I were living in Spokane, Washington; back in Oklahoma, I saw Episode I: The Phantom Menace and Episode II: Attack of the Clones with Susan and my dad, and Episode III: Revenge of the Sith with my dad, Susan, and Mason. Susan, the kids, and I saw Episode VII: The Force Awakens together in Hollywood the night before our cruise left for Hawaii, and the four of us watched Episode VIII: The Last Jedi together back at home.
I almost forgot; Mason and I watched the animated Star Wars: The Clone Wars opening weekend in 2008; 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story while we were on vacation in Denver; and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, again as a family, in 2016.
As most people know, George Lucas sold Lucasfilm for $4 billion dollars to Disney (it took them six years to recoup their investment). As part of the transaction, George Lucas handed over the rights to all Extended Universe stories and his intentions for Episodes VII – IX… which Disney promptly dumped into the nearest Disneyland trash receptacle. Those of us hoping to see the story of Han and Leia’s twins (Jacen and Jaina), their younger son Anakin (Jr.), and Luke’s son Ben never got the opportunity, as those characters along with all their stories were purged from the galaxy’s memory banks. Instead, Disney hired new writers and directors to take the series in a new direction… which brings us to Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker.
Disney’s intention all along has been to introduce new (younger) characters into the franchise while sending fan favorites out to pasture. Episode 7 saw the death of Han Solo, and Luke Skywalker became one with the Force in Episode 8. And while death does not escape Episode 9, for me, the film is less about the passing of any single character, and more about the end of a dynasty.
Don’t get me wrong — there will always be Star Wars. Toys come and go in popularity, but as long as those of us who cut our teeth on the original trilogy are still around, there will be companies (the least of which is Disney) willing to sell things to us. The popularity of Disney+’s new series The Mandalorian (the show’s second season is already in the works) is proof that there’s still blood in those turnips. There are at least half a dozen new Star Wars films and television series in the works. So no, “Star Wars” is not going anywhere.
But my Star Wars, the one that began in 1977 and spanned 42 years, is done. Those nine films — three that dealt with Anakin Skywalker, three that dealt with Luke Skywalker, and three that brought conclusion to the Skywalker story — are Star Wars to me. For some fans the journey consisted only of the original trilogy, and that’s okay. For me, it was important to see all three trilogies to completion for closure, although the fact that Lucas wasn’t involved in the final trilogy certainly complicates things.
As I write these words, I don’t want to come off as if I am washing my hands of Star Wars forever. That is not the case. I’ve watched every episode of The Mandalorian so far, and loved them all… but at the end of the day, it’s just a television show — a television show that takes place in the Star Wars universe, but still, just a television show. When new Star Wars films arrive, I will definitely watch them, but it probably won’t be on opening night.
For a long time, I’ve felt the need to defend Star Wars — the good, the bad, and the really bad. I don’t know why I felt that way. Perhaps I felt admitting Jar Jar Binks was stupid somehow weakened the series as a whole. I guess I felt that to love Star Wars, I had to love all of Star Wars. It’s funny, the time we spend worrying about things that simply do not matter.
This coming weekend I’ll write a review of Episode 9, warts and all. And while it might have been an imperfect ending to an imperfect trilogy, it’s an ending. After 42 years, I can exhale.