Last week, when the Star Wars: The Force Awakens trailer dominated everyone’s lives, I thought it looked pretty cool while other people were literally crying over it. After a ten-year hiatus following prequels that greatly disappointed original fans, the most powerful cultural franchise on the planet stormed back with an emotional trailer that balanced massive visuals with a potent, nostalgic homecoming. Han and Chewie announcing their arrival back home gave credence to the idea that Star Wars had lost its way with little Ani Skywalker, podracing and overindulgent CGI and proclaimed loudly that the adults have returned to right the ship. The franchise is now presumably “back” in every sense of the word. Back to basics, back on track and back in theaters. It’s been more than 30 years since we’ve seen Han Solo, and the catharsis was unarguably overwhelming. This is the kind of pop culture moment that makes me feel like a shitty fan. As you can probably guess, I wasn’t one of the ones crying. It also isn’t exactly the tears that make me feel bad. I love Star Wars, but I guess I don’t really love it the way other people love it. I haven’t devoted even a fraction of a percent of the time that dedicated fans have, and I recognize that as a deciding factor in whether or not the trailer hit the Release Tears Button that all soul-owning humans have. If it were simply a matter of not getting misty seeing Harrison Ford, I’d chalk it up to being a less-than-obsessed Star Wars fan. The real […]
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