Star Wars Episode III
May 19th 2005
Warning: No Spoilers Included
I just got back from seeing Episode III, and I want to talk about my experience. The movie was great, as I’m sure you’ll know when you see it, but I’m not going to talk about the movie today. Please, read on.
The Star Wars series began before I was born, but in true nerd form, I grew up with it. I think I’ve seen the original trilogy at least ten times, probably a few more for Return of the Jedi. I saw Episode I when I was a freshman in high school—six years ago. I didn’t see the midnight showing or anything, but I went with my friends, all self-consious and high schooly, and watched, six years ago. Three years later, I was even more excited (after all, it was three years of suspense), and I saw Episode II at the beautiful Arlington theater in Santa Barbara, which was a memorable experience. I was a senior then, already knowing I was coming to Berkeley, and preparing for graduation, which was supposed to be a great and meaningful experience. I walked down the aisle proudly when I graduated high school, but never cried. I never knew why not.
This morning I took a final; my last one, in an easy and wonderfully interesting class titled “Science, Technology, and Values.” I walked in fifteen minutes late, and didn’t stop writing until I ran out of paper. I came home and watched the excellent new movie version of “Phantom of the Opera.” Then, it was time for Star Wars.
I don’t know why exactly, but I was immensely affected by the movie. Like I said, it was great, but my response had nothing to do with the movie itself. I realized, all at once, that this trilogy swept an arc over my life, and this was the end of something for me. It was as if a relative had died unexpectedly—like, you always knew it was going to happen, but always thought of it as way off in the future—and then, one day, it happened. It was a reminder of all the time that had passed, and of how quickly it had passed, and of how much I had changed during that time. I thought, if only I had thought like this at my high school graduation—but maybe this was somehow more real than high school; closer to life, spanning a better time.
I was actually surprised I cried at the end of the film; not because I’m some nutcase nerd, but because of this simple recognition, so suddenly onset—that I was at the end of some period of my life, and at the beginning of a new one. A New Hope. I think I’ll go watch it.