A Disturbance in the Wells |

By Gregory Meyer
December 18, 2015

“Every human down in Humanville liked the Star Wars Universe a lot,
But the Greg, who lived north of Chicago, did not.”

As the world waits with baited breath for Star Wars: The Force Awakens, I find myself in a strange situation. See, what I’m about to say will most likely ostracize me from both my fellow Children of the Wells writers, as well as geeks everywhere— I am not a Star Wars fan.

I see you picking up those rocks to stone me. Now, now, let’s not get carried away. Put them down and let me finish please. All of them. Yep, I still see that one you have hiding in your pocket. I’m waiting. Okay, now where was I?

I’ve been in this strange position ever since it was announced that Disney bought the Star Wars property and planned a bajillion movies and spin-offs, even going so far as to shut LucasArts down and handing all their video game licenses to the evilest video game company on earth. I read countless statuses on Facebook and tweets about how every person on earth was over the forest moon of Endor for the new developments. When the first trailer appeared for The Force Awakens, my feeds were flooded with comments about how awesome it looked. People spent hours analyzing every detail, and I was bombarded with countless gifs of Darth Vader Jr’s lightsaber having the two guard beams pop out of it. Star Wars fever was back, and it was everywhere as far as I could see.

Anyone who spends a few minutes with me or looks at my office can tell I’m a nerd. This means that eventually, people would talk to me about The Force Awakens. These conversations would happen like this.

Person: So, how excited are you for The Force Awakens? Like super excited, or head asplode excited?

Me: Well, actually, I’m not really a Star Wars fan.

Person: [Face contorts and points finger at me] SSSSCCCCCRRRROOOAAAARRR!

Figure 1 Actual conversation with Star Wars fan. Taken from Buzzfeed.

This happened a lot, and I’d have to go hide so I’m not taken away to watch all six films Clockwork Orange style. The point is, people were ecstatic about the new film and couldn’t believe I wasn’t just as excited. I was happy for them, though there was a part of me that was sad.

See, when I was a boy, I remember coming down to the basement in my grandparent’s vacation home to see what my extended family was watching on TV. It was this strange space story with laser swords, where some people, some robots, and a giant teddy bear were running around this space station trying to escape some guy dressed in black with a breathing problem. I sat down and watched wide-eyed, this feeling of wonder coming over me as I experienced this amazing movie I had never seen before. One movie turned into three, and by the end of Return of the Jedi, I had to own these films.

Soon, I owned the VHS box set everyone had in the 90s, and my own set of action figures that I played with when taking a break from my super hero figures. To young Greg, Star Wars was the best thing since sliced bread and The Goonies, and I was a true blue fan. When the original trilogy came back to theaters with new scenes, I saw each one with one of my parents. It was a magical time, and while I didn’t get into the extended universe books and comics, I loved everything Star Wars. And when I heard that George Lucas was working on a new prequel trilogy, it was all I could think about.

But then The Phantom Menace came out, and after watching it I felt a strange disturbance within me, called disappointment. I told myself that I liked the new film, but deep down inside I wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was all the CGI, maybe it was a certain comic relief character, but I came away a bit empty. A few years later, I saw Attack of the Clones, and the cracks in my fandom deepened irreversibly. In my mind from the original trilogy, Anakin Skywalker was this brave Jedi who became seduced by the dark side and turned into Darth Vader. The Anakin Skywalker of Attack of the Clones was someone I despised watching. Sure, Luke had his rough moments in A New Hope, but he was at least likable. I spent the movie wishing I could watch Obi-wan more than hearing from this impostor about how sand was rough and irritating. When Revenge of the Sith hit the theaters while I was in college, I didn’t even bother seeing it, and haven’t to this day.

A while ago, I hit an epiphany as to why I just didn’t care about the Star Wars universe anymore. I loved the original trilogy, and still do to this day. In fact, Return of the Jedi is in my top five favorite films of all time. I think the three films are perfect from beginning to end, with Return having one of my favorite endings ever. Everything I wanted to see is wrapped up in that film. I didn’t care about how the characters were going to rebuild their world, and I didn’t want anything to spoil what I felt had been wrapped up in a perfect bow. To me, Star Wars was a completed story, and I was happy with where I ended it.

I get why people want more films and more stories, but I’m fine with what I got. What I didn’t expect was the fervent backlash I’d get from others who I would tell this to. They would look at me and say, “Are you crazy? Star Wars forever!” And there’s a lot of them, too. It became mobilized and united, and don’t you dare think to question it.

The Star Wars fandom became aggressive in their devotion to the series, going so far as to spill into the mainstream. Every day I see memes on Facebook with messages saying things appropriating to “That’s cute that you have your comic book movies, but it’s time to move out of the way for the big boys.” I’ve even heard from some that The Force Awakens is equivalent to there being a sequel to the Bible. I think that’s a bit much.

Then there’s the merchandise, which is everywhere, even on things that shouldn’t have it. You don’t just have the toys, but now you can get your coffee creamer from an R2D2 plastic bottle. I’ve even seen a commercial that’s all about a father introducing his young son to Star Wars, explaining that a Jedi is “like a space knight.” It’s supposed to be charming and heart warming, but there’s something off about it to me, almost saying, “You will indoctrinate your children into becoming Star Wars fans like yourself. Resistance is futile.”

As an outsider looking in, I’ve found it fascinating how the Star Wars fandom has changed. It went from being something fun for teenage Greg into something almost unrecognizable now. You can’t really call Star Wars a niche fandom anymore like you could in, say, the 90’s. There’s an air of superiority to the fandom, a “you will agree with us or face our wrath” mentality that teeters on blunt force acceptance. Star Wars is no longer the world belonging to nerds, but something everyone must enjoy.

I know this seems like the rantings of some crotchety nerd waving his cane who is upset all the football jocks are playing with lightsabers and X-Wings. That’s not my point, as I’ve loved watching the mainstream acceptance of comic books and super heroes. My point is that not everyone likes the same things, and that’s okay. That’s what makes us unique and gives us our own voice instead of being one big Cyberman-ish culture. Be excited for The Force Awakens! Enjoy it when you watch it. I’m truly happy for you. But be careful how you treat those who aren’t as excited or like something different than you. Don’t take something that’s supposed to be fun and force it’s acceptance on everyone. That’s not what being a nerd or enthusiast is all about.

And while you watch The Force Awakens, I’ll be over here counting the days down until Rip Hunter is on my screen in DC’s Legends of Tomorrow. Enjoy your movie, and— ow, when did you pick that rock up? Ow. Ow. Ow. I’m bleeding. Ow. Ow.