There are two types of people I hate. The first one is those who are intolerant of races other than their own, and the other one is the Gungans.
Why I can barely stand the thought of capitalizing their name.
Earlier today, I watched “The People vs. George Lucas”. I’m sure you missed it’s blockbuster opening at Mann’s Chinese Theatre. None the less, if you were an excited kid when the first Star Wars trilogy came out and subsequently a disappointed adult when the next one was released, this is the film for you.
Add to that the mere chance that you went to high school in the central Wyoming in the mid 80’s, and you may see a former classmate featured in the interviews of that film.
It was sometime in June of 1977 I think that the family packed it up one night and headed to the Rialto to see the next best thing since sliced bread. I was able to parlay a box of Hot Tamales out of the trip to snack on while watching Star Wars. To this day, nearly 35 years later, I can’t eat Hot Tamales without thinking of the very first time I saw that movie. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long.
For years, I loved that first trilogy. I have two or three different sets of those bad boys on VHS. When my son was in his formative years, he used to love watching them just as much as I did.
It all changed in 1999 when the prequel was released.
It was bad.
I used to tell people that we saw The Phantom Menace, I would cover my son’s eyes during the particularly violent scenes. When Jar-Jar appeared, I’d cover my own eyes.
I hated him.
He might as well be a member of that football team that plays out of Dallas where I’m concerned.
Anyway, everything said in “The People vs. George Lucas” pretty much hit home and said exactly what I’ve been feeling for years.
I can barely sit down and watch any of the movies anymore.
For the record, I still love Hot Tamales.
