Star Wars, still so grand
I am amazed at how good the old star wars movies are in comparison to the new. Can you believe that watching the "original trilogy" made me feel like (gulp!) watching Phantom Menace and the Clones again?
Maybe that's the power of great movies with disturbingly bad sequels or spin-offs (think Batman & Robin), the sense of wonder and enchantment they ellicit makes you do the unthinkable and give the proven bad another chance. That is also the power of good people as I recall.
I must have watched all three Star Wars movies back in '86-'88 on TV. They were shown in the course of two-three days. I was thrilled, elder people had told me the movies were nice, but I was blown away. I have this memory in my mind of staying up late at night after my mother and stepfather had gone to sleep, mesmerized with the climax sequence of The Empire Strikes Back. The stark contrast of twisting shadows and ambient red light of Luke's first confrontation with Darth Vader totally got me and every time the lightsabers clashed, I shuddered. They had frozen poor Han Solo for god's sake! They wanted to do it to poor Luke too! I think my heart gave a little skip when he fell into the freezing chamber and Vader went, as he flipped the switch with his mind powers, "All too easy" with disappointment. After that, when they are still fighting on top of the catwalk over the central shaft of Bespin, heading for the momentuous revelation, I was truly concerned for Luke's destiny; Darth Vader was so obviously *better*, so much more powerful and experienced than young Luke. You truly felt the Tattooine farmboy had gotten way over his head with thinking he could be a hero.
They became my all-time favorite movies for a long time, and they are still in that list.
As I watched that night, curled up in a chair and barely blinking, I felt my parents (who had left halfway through the show) could never understand the deep connection the movie and I were sharing. Over the years I'd have *definite* confirmation that my parents/stepfather were born in a different universe than mine. Art appreciation (and at times, creation) was taking its place as my most prominent "additional sense" and life vocation.
When The Phantom Menace came out in 1999 I was literally reaching the end of the tether of my "old-life" phase. Leaving the place I'd desperately kicked about for 21 years was fast becoming an actual plan and my gender issues were starting to move on their own. Queen Amidala did it, bland as her character is. I felt a yearning for her femininity and cuteness which had nothing to do with *posessing* but with *being*. Much like the slightly ambivalent way I'd always felt about girls and women all through my life, but in a rare emotional outburst for my testosterone-riddled, fresh-out-of-my-teens self. I always saw having girlfriends as some sort of experience to have someday (much like riding a nice roller coaster or some experience I'd never had) and definite proof that I was not *weird*. Participating of femininity, what I always wanted, I had to learn was barred to me by birth forever (I know that's not the case now :) ).
In the subsequent days of watching the movie I was the only one among my friends commenting on the awesome outfits of the Queen. Of course, it was all in a stylistic vein, wasn't it? :) Watching on TV the fans getting mad at the premieres, dressed up like the characters and having jedi fights at the multiplex lobbies, a girl in Amidala makeup filled me with the feeling that there was really *no* other costume I'd do more. Sure, the Jedis and their flowing capes were awesome, but they were not *me*. While my friend was going crazy over how cool it'd be to wear jedi outfits I nodded and smiled, trying unsuccessfully to like their customes and not Amidala's beautiful dresses.
It's hard to convey these pre GID revelation moments, how strong the dysphoria felt and at the same time how much of an aunknown forbidden country it was for me. In those moments I beheld the huge obscured parts move by themselves in unison, making perfect sense in their message.
I've got to go now, I'll come back to this in another post.
Maybe that's the power of great movies with disturbingly bad sequels or spin-offs (think Batman & Robin), the sense of wonder and enchantment they ellicit makes you do the unthinkable and give the proven bad another chance. That is also the power of good people as I recall.
I must have watched all three Star Wars movies back in '86-'88 on TV. They were shown in the course of two-three days. I was thrilled, elder people had told me the movies were nice, but I was blown away. I have this memory in my mind of staying up late at night after my mother and stepfather had gone to sleep, mesmerized with the climax sequence of The Empire Strikes Back. The stark contrast of twisting shadows and ambient red light of Luke's first confrontation with Darth Vader totally got me and every time the lightsabers clashed, I shuddered. They had frozen poor Han Solo for god's sake! They wanted to do it to poor Luke too! I think my heart gave a little skip when he fell into the freezing chamber and Vader went, as he flipped the switch with his mind powers, "All too easy" with disappointment. After that, when they are still fighting on top of the catwalk over the central shaft of Bespin, heading for the momentuous revelation, I was truly concerned for Luke's destiny; Darth Vader was so obviously *better*, so much more powerful and experienced than young Luke. You truly felt the Tattooine farmboy had gotten way over his head with thinking he could be a hero.
They became my all-time favorite movies for a long time, and they are still in that list.
As I watched that night, curled up in a chair and barely blinking, I felt my parents (who had left halfway through the show) could never understand the deep connection the movie and I were sharing. Over the years I'd have *definite* confirmation that my parents/stepfather were born in a different universe than mine. Art appreciation (and at times, creation) was taking its place as my most prominent "additional sense" and life vocation.
When The Phantom Menace came out in 1999 I was literally reaching the end of the tether of my "old-life" phase. Leaving the place I'd desperately kicked about for 21 years was fast becoming an actual plan and my gender issues were starting to move on their own. Queen Amidala did it, bland as her character is. I felt a yearning for her femininity and cuteness which had nothing to do with *posessing* but with *being*. Much like the slightly ambivalent way I'd always felt about girls and women all through my life, but in a rare emotional outburst for my testosterone-riddled, fresh-out-of-my-teens self. I always saw having girlfriends as some sort of experience to have someday (much like riding a nice roller coaster or some experience I'd never had) and definite proof that I was not *weird*. Participating of femininity, what I always wanted, I had to learn was barred to me by birth forever (I know that's not the case now :) ).
In the subsequent days of watching the movie I was the only one among my friends commenting on the awesome outfits of the Queen. Of course, it was all in a stylistic vein, wasn't it? :) Watching on TV the fans getting mad at the premieres, dressed up like the characters and having jedi fights at the multiplex lobbies, a girl in Amidala makeup filled me with the feeling that there was really *no* other costume I'd do more. Sure, the Jedis and their flowing capes were awesome, but they were not *me*. While my friend was going crazy over how cool it'd be to wear jedi outfits I nodded and smiled, trying unsuccessfully to like their customes and not Amidala's beautiful dresses.
It's hard to convey these pre GID revelation moments, how strong the dysphoria felt and at the same time how much of an aunknown forbidden country it was for me. In those moments I beheld the huge obscured parts move by themselves in unison, making perfect sense in their message.
I've got to go now, I'll come back to this in another post.
posted by V. at 9:34 AM
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