Star Wars was a formative piece of my childhood. I carry a heavy disappointment to this day that my parents never bought me a Millennium Falcon. Instead I had to go around to my friend Neil's who not only had the MF, but an entire array of Star Wars merchandise. This meant that I always had to play the Empire and not even a cool part of the Empire, like Darth Vader. I had to be the stupid TIE Fighter pilot who crashed into a rock. Argh. Asteroid. Boom. While Han Solo and Chewie would pilot the MF around the room laughing heartily at my demise and yet another victory for the plucky Rebels (nowadays, of course, they're be a proscribed terror organisation). And like many a young boy in late 1970s, my first inkling that females could be anything but an annoyance was though the divine vessel of Princess Leia. I had no idea what I'd need a Princess Leia for, but I figured it wouldn't be so bad if she came around to hang out. Even if I still had to fly the damn TIE fighter. And who didn't want to be plucked from humdrum obscurity in their dull home towns and pitched onto the grand stage to battle an evil Empire. Han Solo was so cool I wanted to be him too. There was a brief spell in my junior school when all you could hear were assorted bad Wookie impressions. I had to sit in the corridor for a week for making such a noise while hitting Darren 'coconut head' Flint in the head with my mighty Wookie paw. Darth Vader, of course, was the villain to end all villains and a inspiration to every creepy heavy breathing phone caller thereafter.
The Empire Strikes Back was no let down. Then came Return of the Jedi, the main consolation of which was some of the stupid teddy bears got blown up and I was probably old enough to know why I'd like Princess Leia to come around and hang out.
I think the fact that I can't even remember the names of the newer films says as much about them as needs to be said. The first one was execrable, the second and third merely plumbing in the sub-levels of dull.
