A Long Time Ago....

Well 49 years ago today actually, quite possibly THE greatest film of all time was unleashed (in less than 40 cinemas - yes really, 20th Century Fox had no idea what to do with it) upon an unsuspecting world - and cinema would never be the same again.

And neither would my life if I'm honest.

 

For one thing I'd have had no excuse to talk to the kid in the Star Wars t-shirt the day I started my new school so would never had a friendship that has endured nearly 50 years which is pretty good going for a group that, allegedly, find making friends difficult I reckon. 

Plus it gave us the perfect excuse to dress the twins as Luke and Leia for Halloween when they were tiny.

 Oh and it introduced Cassidy  to his go to cuddle buddy.

 

Luckily for us they've embraced Star Wars too (or have I brainwashed them? - answers to the usual address).

 

 

Obviously next year is gonna be the biggie - with the original version being spruced up for a timely re-release - but could let this really important (to me) anniversary pass without at least trying to explain - from a certain (oh go on them Autistic) - point of view, why this little 70s movie is so important.

 

To that end - and seeing as the original post went down quite well - I present an extract from my upcoming - and ongoing - book Spectrum Sinema that covers this very subject.

 

Enjoy and may The Force be with you.

 

 

Believe it or not there was, in fact, a time before Star Wars existed.
I know that sounds ludicrous but it’s true.

The weird thing is I don’t actually remember a time when it wasn’t
there.

Seriously, I mean one of the most amazing things (to me anyway) about
my autistic memory bank is the ability to remember exactly where and
when I heard my favourite songs or saw my favourite films for the first
time in minute detail.

For example the first song I ever remember discovering myself (as in my
parents/grandparents hadn’t played it to me) was Tears of A Clown on
30th April 1975.

The reason I remember it so vividly was that it followed a news report
on the fall of Saigon, I was sitting cross legged in front of our old
stereo/radiogram in the maisonette we lived in in Coseley (or Wallbrook
as the area was known then) at the time.

Oh yes, and we had jungle animal wallpaper because I insisted.

But Star Wars?

I remember the first time I ever read/heard about it – that’d be in the
2000 AD Summer Special ‘supercomic’ (dated 30th June 1977 fact fans)
that had a photo feature on the film, wrongly captioning a picture of
Han Solo and Chewbacca as ‘Luke Skywalker and a friend’ - but my
brain insists it was always a thing.

Living in the UK we had 7 months of near constant news reports,
magazine stories and general hype before the film was released over here 

and by the time I saw it in 1978 I was already it’s biggest fan and
knew absolutely everything about it.

Seeing it for the first time on the big screen – Dudley Plaza I miss you –
was actually the first time that I felt that the film I was watching
belonged to me and me alone.

Yes, other people liked it and I could share that with them but no-one
else truly ‘got’ it as I did.

Whilst they were ‘just’ watching a film I was experiencing not only the
culmination of everything I’d learned about movies so far (remember, I
had rules) but also finally feeling the full force – excuse the pun – of that
massive sensory seeking bit of my brain that had been trying to find
some way of expressing itself.

I still remember it like it was yesterday (oh go on then, like it was an
hour ago), my head was filled with images and feelings that at any point
threatened to overwhelm me as I sat internally shaking in wonder at
what I was seeing.

It was almost as if Lucas knew this would happen and decided to add a
scene to ground me.

Cue Luke, who after an argument with his uncle about applying to the
academy grumpily steps out of his homestead and gazes longingly at
Tatooine’s setting suns and John Williams greatest ever piece of music
(oh go on then, the greatest piece of music ever composed) ‘Binary
Sunset’ begins to soar in the background.

And that was that.

Everything became calm and my breathing relaxed as tears of joy
poured down my pudgy little face.

This odd little 7 year old kid after spending his whole, short life gazing in
wander and awe at the cinema screen and desperately wanted to part of
it finally saw it gazing back at him.

Marie-Henri Beyle would have been proud.

 

And yes, I know there’s a generation of kids the same age as myself –
and younger – who (still) dream of being Luke Skywalker but there are
probably very few who just want to be him in that moment.

Forget Luke Skywalker the powerful Jedi or rebel leader or hero of the
battle of Yavin, the Luke I identify with is that self-centred, sometimes
whiny lost boy gazing into the future with no idea of what’s happening
outside his own little world.

And I still do at times.

I get the piss taken out of me a fair bit for this but that moment (all 1
minute 20-ish seconds of it) to my mind is the most perfect, most
emotional and quite possibly the most important scene ever committed
to celluloid.

Fact.

I go back to it constantly.

Need an emotional release?

That scene.

Feel sad or upset and need to process it?
I go to that scene.

Actually want to feel sad or upset? (yes we do that).
You get the picture.

Suffice to say that moment in time changed my life forever.

For better or worse?

I’d taken my first step into a larger world and nothing would ever be the
same again.*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* Well that’s not strictly true, the Greg and Tim Hildebrandt illustrated
Star Wars poster I’d bought that summer that hung up in my bedroom is
still hanging but now it’s framed on our living room wall, and my
merchandise is now carefully boxed rather than filling my floor but it’s
still all there because if you know anything about Autistics it’s that we
really don’t really like change.