To Prequel or Not to Prequel?

            There come a time in every geek’s life when he must confront that which is unpleasant. I refer here to the almost universally reviled yet highly profitable Star Wars prequels. No other film series causes this much derision. Sure, we film buffs are accustomed to inferior sequels, but our usual response is to either ignore them or shrug and say, “Yeah, but the first one (or two) was good.” But not with the Star Wars prequels. No, with these, we become angry toddlers, our faces turning purple with rage and our vocabulary becoming liberally sprinkled with language that would make a sailor blush.

            But why? Why does this one hurt so much?

            I can’t answer for all geeks, but I can tell you my story.

            I grew up with the Star Wars movies. We had all three on VHS, taped off one channel or another. In fact, our copy of Star Wars was from the network television premier and included commercials for things like the introduction of NutraSweet as well as bumpers featuring celebrities telling their stories of seeing and loving Star Wars. Being the youngest of three boys, these movies were what kept all of us in the same room without attempting to kill one another.

            When word came down from the almighty Uncle George that there was to be more Star Wars, fans rejoiced. The Second Coming was upon us. People liked up to buy tickets for Meet Joe Black, just to see two and a half minute trailer for Episode One, leaving the theater immediately thereafter (prompting some theaters to tell people that if they stayed through the feature, they would play the trailer a second time which is why my brother saw Wing Commander). My friend took me to see The Matrix, when it was over; she turned to me and asked, “What did you think?” I replied, “It was cool, but did you see that trailer?!?” The sight of the demonic-looking Darth Maul wielding a double-bladed lightsaber was a geekgasm of epic proportions.

A friend of mine made this joking prophecy: “What if Episode One is forty-five minutes of the coolest movie ever and then…dancing bears?” Sadly, he wasn’t far off.

This movie was going to be amazing, and no one could convince us otherwise. When Time Magazine published their negative review prior to the film’s premier, I dismissed it as another example of critics turning their noses up at blockbusters.

            When the local theater announced that tickets would go on sale at three o’clock a week prior to the film’s opening, I cut school to camp out for tickets. I even wound up on the news, reciting my favorite line from Star Wars (“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”) When I confessed to my mother what I had done, she asked, “Did you get me a ticket?”

I did.

And then it came.

Sure, the title was a bit odd and the opening crawl read like a tax form and the Trade Federation guys talked like the worst Asian stereotypes I had ever heard, but…it was Star Wars.

Right?

And I didn’t love it. I still saw it five times in the theater. Every time, I told myself it was me. I hadn’t adjusted yet. Episode One: The Phantom Menace was a baby, a new addition to the family, I had to give it time to grow on me.

I bought the collector’s edition of the movie because…it was Star Wars.

“Episode Two will be better,” became the soothing mantra of the fans.

We thought The Phantom Menace was the worst title you could give a Star Wars movie. How wrong we were. Attack of the Clones opened in 2002 (and featured no clones attacking- Clones to the Rescue would have been a more accurate title). Anakin Skywalker, who we had been told was an ace pilot and super-awesome Jedi Knight, whined.

 And cried.

And his voice cracked.

The romance was God-awful, the acting was piss-poor. Half the movie looked like a cartoon. Christopher Lee was, is, and always will be awesome (so it had that going for it).

I was disappointed…again.

I saw it three times.

2005. Revenge of the Sith. This was it. This was the linchpin of the entire saga. The fall of a great hero, the beginning of the dark times. The first Star Wars movie to be PG-13. Not even The Empire Strikes Back, the darkest of the series, was PG-13!

And then it happened.

“No.”

Or, to be more accurate: “Noooooooooooooooo!!!”

My heart broke. This was supposed to be great. This was the culmination of twenty-two years of waiting. I was a Star Wars geek before geeks were cool. I defended these movies, I loved them, I spent time and money on them, and then…

“Noooooooooooooooo!!!”

When people bitched about Jar Jar Binks, I stood by these movies. When fans rolled their eyes at a stormtrooper named Cody, I didn’t waver. I still loved them even after The Force was re-named midichlorians.

I felt foolish, like a man who has been certain of his wife’s honor for years only to walk in on her fucking another man.

I saw Revenge of the Sith once.

I didn’t look at Star Wars (any of them) again for two years. Gradually, I came back to the original three that I grew up with. These are the only three that I own.

A couple of years ago, I tried to watch the prequels again, telling myself that maybe I could enjoy them on some level. After all, there are lesser entries in other series that I enjoy (I’m looking at you, Star Trek III). But I couldn’t do it. There was no getting around it: these were bad movies.

Just the other evening, I had an epiphany, albeit a painful one. I saw myself looking at a series of films that had mass appeal, made a ton of money and yet were full of bad dialogue, wooden acting, and piss-poor storytelling. Films full of romance that was forced and unconvincing, films that had a main character who we’re told repeatedly is special, important and unique despite any evidence whatsoever. Films full of events that we’re told are important and world-changing without being shown why. Films that no matter how convincing your argument was, you could never convince its fans that it was a bad movie.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m talking about Twilight.

Strangely enough, this gives me peace of mind about the Twilight fandom.

They’ll figure it out.

I know we did.

Are we prequel haters the Orthodox Jews of the geek world, disavowing the contemporary and staying with the old? Maybe.

Are we a more jaded group than we were in the seventies and eighties? Possibly.

Is it because, essentially Star Wars movies are for kids, and we’re not kids anymore? Doubtful- Pixar makes kids movies that I love.

Perhaps Star Wars is just the great love of our life, that perfect woman who one day changed and betrayed us. But, we are fortunate. Unlike that perfect woman, we can go back to when things were good just by sitting down and watching the original (and to some-only) trilogy again.

Unless they’re the Special Editions.

Don’t even get me started on that.