My eldest son, Aidan, has recently got into Star Wars. It's obviously a matter of extreme pride for me, and barely disguised concern for his mother.He doesn't call it Star Wars, of course. It's Robots (or Robotsch as he endearingly calls it). However, at the age of two he is doing Chewie and Darth Vadar impressions, mock fighting with light sabres and pretending to be a space ship (or schpasche schipschs as he refers to them as they blow each other up into fiery fragments on screen).
What's interesting is that, even as a Youngling, Aidan recognises the new films are of an infinitely lesser quality than the originals. He is less patient and his concentration flags, finding distractions in 2p pieces on the floor and unusual yellow scraps of paper on the sofa which he never would even in the poorer scenes of Return of the Jedi.
And glad that I am, I still feel that it will all end in 18 years time on a wind-swept ziaggurat with me announcing I'm his father in the midst of a light sabre fight...
3 comments:
do you know, I have exactly the same reaction to the later films? with the possible exception of the last half an hour of the very last one, where I almost forgave GL for the first two films. Almost, almost.
Ah but are they in fact the earlier films? Discuss.
Now I don't know who I am or what day of the week it is!
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