STAR WARS... isn't it about time somebody put a stake through the heart of this movie franchise and stuffed it with garlic so that it will never rise again? I confess I'm prejudiced. I saw the first STAR WARS film ("Episode 4," as it's cheekily referred to now) in the theater when it was released in 1977, and absolutely loathed it. Car chases in space, with swipes from the Lord of the Rings and Jack Kirby's Fourth World. In fact, parts of it bored me so much that I nearly fell asleep. This may come as a shock to STAR WARS true believers, but at that time Kubrick's 2001 was the gold standard for cinematic science fiction as far as I was concerned. (And yes, I know, other people claim to have fallen asleep during THAT.) But my first thought when I left the theater was a clever ad that used to run in the old GALAXY magazine. It presented passages from two different stories:
First Story
Jets blasting, Bat Durston came screeching down through the atmosphere of Bbllzznaj, a tiny planet seven billion light years from Sol. He cut out his super-hyper-drive for the landing…and at that point, a tall, lean spaceman stepped out of the tail assembly, proton gun-blaster in a space-tanned hand.
"Get back from those controls, Bat Durston," the tall stranger lipped thinly. "You don't know it, but this is your last space trip."
Second Story
Hoofs drumming, Bat Durston came galloping down through the narrow pass at Eagle Gulch, a tiny gold colony 400 miles north of Tombstone. He spurred hard for a low overhang of rimrock…and at that point a tall, lean wranger stepped out from behind a high boulder, six-shooter in a sun-tanned hand.
"Rear back and dismount, Bat Durston," the tall stranger lipped thinly. "You don't know it, but this is your last saddle-jaunt through these here parts."
The ad then somewhat redundantly made the obvious point:
Sound alike? They should—one is merely a western transplanted to some alien and impossible planet. If this is your idea of science fiction, you're welcome to it! YOU'LL NEVER FIND IT IN GALAXY!
Well, I found it in STAR WARS, in abundance. No doubt some will claim that there's nothing wrong with good old-fashioned space opera, filled with lots of adventure and excitement. But at the time it bothered me when the ending showed our heroes being honored at a ceremony that looked for all the world like a scene out of Leni Riefenstahl TRIUMPH OF THE WILL. Yeah, that fascist aesthetic grabs people every time. And it's bothered me over the years when people who know little about sf continued to confuse it with all that STAR WARS stuff. It's useless trying to explain to them that Star Wars is not representative of the best of SF, or even mediocre SF. Some people -- MSNBC's Mika Brzezinski, for example -- admit they can tell the difference between STAR WARS and STAR TREK. After all, it's just more of that "crazy Buck Rogers stuff." right? Except that these folks don't even remember Buck Rogers.
I'm happy for all the people who are going to enjoy the new Star Wars movies and its various merchandise and tie-ins, and I'm happy for the lucky few who will be getting rich or richer off the proceeds. But count me out. I'll be spending this weekend reading a Barry Malzberg sf novel.
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Cartoon by Brian Fairrington
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