When Star Wars: The
Force Awakens came out two years ago, I initially wasn’t going to see it. I
hate Star Wars, which might surprise
some of you, considering that Star Wars is
exactly the type of thing I generally like.
I don’t hate the Star Wars franchise because of its (considerable)
flaws. When The Phantom Menace came
out, I was sixteen. My aunt Martha, who is only ten years older than me, found
out that I hadn’t seen any of the original Star
Wars movies, so she insisted that I sit down and watch all three of them
back-to-back before immediately taking me to the theater so I could watch The Phantom Menace. While I was watching
A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and
Return of the Jedi, my aunt sat next
me, delivering rhetorical analysis and commentary. “See, this is where he
redeems his father,” she said as I watched the climactic battle between Luke
and Vader.
It was enough to put me off the entire franchise. So, I wasn’t
planning on going to see The Force
Awakens. But then, shortly before it came out, or maybe right after it
came out, I was talking to my friend Kathryn on the phone and she revealed that
she was going to see The Force Awakens.
“I didn’t know you liked Star
Wars,” I said, surprised.
“Well, I don’t,” she replied, “but you have to see it. It’s a cultural moment.”
Indeed.
For the record, I didn’t like The Force Awakens, and I didn’t really care for Rogue One either, but I went to see
them. I did so partly because I wanted to see if I still hated the Star Wars franchise (I did), but also
partly because if you want to participate in society, you have to see the latest Star
Wars movie. Everyone else is going to see it, so you have to see it too. I suspect
that, like voting or going to work, many of us will do it out of a sense of
obligation, but we’ll be miserable the whole time. All I can say is, this one had better not have a damn Death Star in it.
But you know it will.