This was a year where I saw the endless sky above Montana, smelled the ravages of fire in California, and stood at the edge of the fantastic, sensing and savoring the sublime magnificence of edges along the Grand Canyon.
We’ve seen it before. “Punch it Chewie,” “No! We’re not interested in the hyperdrive on the Millenium Falcon, it’s fixed!,” the need for a hyperspace generator from Watto. Hyperspace. Lightspeed. It’s essential in nature, a basic concept allowing (or failing to allow) our travelers in a galaxy far, far, away to reach, depart, and journey to new destinations and worlds of wonder.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about The Last Jedi until fifteen minutes in the middle of the film.
Many fans of fantasy and sci-fi fall into two different camps: those who love time travel and those who don’t. For those who love it, suspension of belief is sufficient to get through the paradoxes that these narratives develop over time. The inverse is true for those who abhor stories that change the past, because repercussions from the butterfly effect leads to stories that are convoluted and messy.
I thought about this the other day when watching Rogue One, last year’s Star Wars movie about a group of rebels plotting to retrieve the plans for the first Death Star. While thrilling in its own right it is only through the final minutes (the final, last ditch, effort to escape Darth Vader) where we see the connective tissue between this film and 1977’s A New Hope.
In some ways it feels like a historical document. A primary source that fills in a missing piece — why everyone fears Darth Vader, just how desperate Princess Leia was to get the plans away from her ship, the absolute critical nature of C3PO and R2D2’s mission. It puts things into perspective and provides insight into a story that captured my imagination for the past twenty years. Continue reading “Journey to the Past: Timeless & the History Film Forum”
afraid. Folded in by the weight
of postcards and calls
links and 140 characters.
Always thinking about the invisible scales of equality
between the unborn, the refugee, the immigrant, and those not living in privilege.
certain that I have fingers
toes, a heart with blood pumping
slowly through my veins —
as do you,
and us, but those that lead find
different ways to say
You Don’t Belong.
my strength for this
Yet I know that one cannot expect miracles
And God cannot do all the work
And so —
Although I am afraid, I am certain. Although I question, I am ready.
I can be brave. I must be brave. I will be brave.
Whenever I begin writing my annual New Year’s post I take a look at what I wrote the year before. Here is what I said in January 2016:
This post originally appeared on FANgirl blog.
Beware! [Channeling Yoda] Beyond first paragraph, spoilers there be….
“The bee in his bonnet was that history and myth are two aspects of a kind of grand pattern in human destiny: history is the mass of observable or recorded fact, but myth is the abstract or essence of it.” From The Manticore, Book 2 in the Deptford Trilogy, by Robertson Davies (p326)
Overwhelmed. That was the prevailing emotion I felt when I walked out of a theatre in downtown D.C. on December 17th. I can’t say it was because I was immediately blown away or that I had just witnessed cinematic perfection, but rather that I left my first screening of The Force Awakens with a sense of immense satisfaction jumbled up with a continuous stream of questions and ideas.
I can’t even.
After a month of TV spots, interviews devoid of details but
full of excitement
It’s almost here.
I am self-aware that I am a willing consumer
For what is, on a very granular level,
Just a movie.
But we all know there is something more.
Something beyond. Something Magic. Myth-Creation.
In a three day (over two months) spin
We’ve watched Four, Five, One, Two, Three, Six
And watched the narrative unfold.
A day after the trailer for The Force Awakens aired I realized three fundamental truths at the exact same time.
- It was possible to feel 17 again.
- That in the absence of any real sense of story its possible to sway my opinion with a good score.
- That I am teetering on the edge of cautiously optimistic to sure thing.
ONE. Sand. Sand. Sand. BOOM. That buried star destroyer made me think of the Lusankya buried beneath the city of Coruscant — what happens to the detritus of these massive spaceships after battle? I guess they don’t all burn up in the atmosphere. Relics of a time gone past? Really, what a spectacular visual.
TWO. The voiceover. “The Force is strong in my family. My father has it… I have it… my sister has it… you have that power, too.” Again we are seeing the blackened helmet of a father who fell so far before gaining redemption.
THREE. A passing of the torch. Rey the scavenger. Finn the stormtrooper. Poe the X-Wing pilot. Continue reading “The Cutest Droid In the Universe”
This post originally appeared on FANgirl.
In eighth grade science class my friend Tracy slid me a folded piece of notebook paper. Scrawled across the top were the words “Star Wars Expanded Universe and Ratings” or something like that. On this paper she had painstakingly written out the name of each of the books marking each in turn with a series of stars. One for Children of the Jedi. Five for The Last Command. A blueprint for a newly inducted fan.
Soon I found myself devouring each book as it came along. Wanting to stay current, and let’s be honest, to know everything. In 1995, the internet was in its infancy, and my sphere of conversation on this topic was limited. But, boy, did I read.
I read regularly until the end of the New Jedi Order. Then things took a turn towards darkness. bugs, strange adventures, twisted Solo children. So I moved on, returning occasionally for a book by Timothy Zahn and to read about Mara’s demise firsthand. I felt like I owed it to her to read about her death, to pay my last respects.
Despite all this the internet kept me informed and it was enough. A single toe in a larger pond.
Let’s get this out of the way: I am hopeful. Cautiously optimistic. Filled with anticipation. Even thrilled now that we have three films in three years.
Seriously all — ROGUE ONE. Even if it isn’t linked to Michael Stackpole/Aaron Allston, the idea alone… Whew.
Then there was a notice about the new books, including a blurb about Star Wars: Aftermath, and there it was: an unexpected twinge next to my heart, a sudden moment of loss.
WHAT HAPPENED AFTER ENDOR? FIND OUT IN STAR WARS: AFTERMATH Continue reading “A Twinge of Loss. The Aftermath of the Star Wars Expanded Universe”