See, I’m one of those Star Wars fans that got a lot of closure from watching Plinkett’s breakdown of why Episodes One, Two, and Three sucked so much. When my family went to go see Episode 1 in theaters, literally the only one of us who was entertained and was not horrified was my baby sister, who spent the entire time giggling at Jar-Jar Binks, drooling all over my cell phone, and shitting her diaper. I wandered dazed out of the theater with the other viewers, some of whom were weeping. Others were screaming for their mothers. Some had simply collapsed into a fetal position below their seats and weren’t discovered until someone came to sweep up the popcorn. We formed a support group, but I still spent the next several years in a confused stupor, trying to figure out where it had all gone so wrong.

Things got better when one day I was at Fry’s Electronics looking for a more ergonomic keyboard tray and I found a copy of the genuine Star Wars trilogy sitting quietly beside the more ostentatiously packaged Episode 1-3 trilogy, which came complete with an Amidala-themed tin of the same brand of roofies that they spiked Natalie Portman’s carrot juice with to get her to sign on to and film the movies.

Clearly there is an angel of mercy somewhere at Lucasfilm, because nestled quietly on the bonus discs of this boxed set of the digitally enhanced movies were the original, unadulterated, pure, Dark Side-free versions of the films. I was able to watch Star Wars again.

But I came to a sad realization today as I was watching Return of the Jedi while crocheting a beanie that looks like Princess Leia hair. The Prequels aren’t just bad on their own. They are so bad that they force me to acknowledge that Lucas was already making mistakes way back on Jedi. It’s so painful for me to admit this, so please bear with me. The first two movies were fantastic. A New Hope was great because it was so focused and tapped into storytelling archetypes that gripped the mind and took it for a wild ride. Empire was even better, adding depth and humanity to the story. Why were these movies so good?

Because George Lucas didn’t control them completely

Lucas came up with the treatments for the stories, but Gary Kurtz, Leigh Brackett, Lawrence Kasdan, and Irvin Kershner made them great. Kurtz and Kershner departed after Empire, and at that moment Lucas lost his Yoda and Obi-Wan and went over to the Dark Side.

I’m not saying Jedi is bad; it’s a very good film, although considerably less focused than its predecessors. However the abominations of Episodes One, Two, and Three didn’t pop out of nowhere, and now when I watch Jedi I can see the roots of the tensionless war between armies I don’t care about, the evolution of Jar-Jar Binks out of the Ewoks, and the future lines of bland, meaningless dialogue between characters I’m told I should love rather than feeling that I should love.

Before the prequels, I was able to overlook the rough edges on Jedi and enjoy the redemption of Darth Vader and the victory of the rag-tag underdog army. But now the mistakes are so glaring I can’t avoid them.

Most importantly, no important good guys die. Gary Kurtz wanted to kill off Han Solo, but Lucas wanted the big happy ending with everyone gathering around the campfire to pose for a photo Luke could use on his next Life Day card that he sent to friends back on Tattooine.

For war movies to have a real impact, you need to get a sense of the sacrifice and loss that a people go through in the struggle for freedom. In Jedi, nobody dies who didn’t deserve it, except like this one little Care Bear on Endor whose name we never learn and who we haven’t ever connected with as an audience. Struggles against brutal totalitarian states are not without a cost. Jedi had a satisfying ending, but it would have been downright Shakespearean if, fatally wounded, Han had whispered “I love you” to Leia, only to have her respond “I know” as he died in her arms. Instead, Lucas makes it clear that Han and Leia don’t know how they feel about each other at all until the very end of the movie when Leia decides that boinking Han is a better choice than boinking her brother. Han doesn’t look passionate or overcome with amorous joy; he looks confused.

Because of being exposed to the horrible, loveless, awkwardly unbelievable “romance” — note the conspicuous use of quotes around “romance” — between Anakin and Padmé, I can see how even back in 1983 Lucas had serious difficulty creating believable romantic relationships between characters. I mean, we are talking about a man who literally put a giant sandy fanged man-eating vagina in his movie. It’s not hard to see he must have issues.

Of course, once you’ve started down this road you can see the most glaring problem Lucas has: rehashing old material. Episodes One, Two, and Three try so hard to replicate the original films, right down to the colors the characters wear, that the whole thing feels completely unnatural. I’m not saying that the movie didn’t work, but . . . it’s just . . . another Death Star? Really? The first Death Star had to be knocked out because for the rebels it was a matter of survival. The second movie is about looking inward during a period of intense struggle and finding out what you’re really made of. The third one lacks a sense of urgency in the battle, because like the painfully horrible sight of baby Anakin playing around in a battle like a kid with a model spaceship, you don’t ever get the feeling that there is any real danger that the rebels might not succeed. I just can’t believe that the only story line Lucas could come up with on his own was to build another Death Star. Because the audience has already seen A New Hope, we ALREADY KNOW that the Death Star is not invincible. It is possible to hit a small thermal exhaust port two meters across. We know this. So nobody is on the edge of their seat to see if the rebels can manage it a second time.

For all my complaining, I could overlook the mistakes if it weren’t for the entire first act of the movie. Having now been exposed to the confusing convoluted mess that is Qui-Gon Jinn’s interaction with everyone on Tattoine, I can now see the roots of Lucas Logic in the plot of Jedi. You can give yourself a brain hemorrhage trying to figure out what’s going on in Episode One. Qui-Gon needs to get his spaceship fixed, but then he wants to pick up this annoying bratty kid with lots of Force bacteria in his blood, so he makes bet after bet so Lucas could have a three-hour boring as hell podracing scene, and somehow this bizarre plan works out. He’s supposed to be a Jedi master, but his logic in hatching a plan has me scratching my head.

The same thing happened in Jedi, only then we were all too innocent and naive to notice. Han’s a prisoner of Jabba the Hutt, who lives in an isolated palace protected by mercenaries. A good plan would consist of landing some badass commandos on his roof, grabbing Han, and getting back to the war. But instead Luke comes up with a plan whereby Lando gets a job working for Jabba, Leia brings Chewbacca in for the bounty, Luke gives Jabba the Droids, Leia gets caught, and finally Luke turns himself in as well. In one short day the merry band of brothers has gone from having one dude imprisoned to having all of them imprisoned. Ingenious. And what was this mess building up to? You got it. The light saber. When in doubt, Lucas grabs on to his light saber with both hands, especially when a giant fanged vagina is waiting below to swallow you up.

The only good thing I can say about the whole Jabba’s Palace interlude is that when Luke fights that giant cave troll in the pit below Jabba’s throne room, he didn’t use a goddamn light saber. Had Lucas made Jedi today, I guarantee you Luke would not have used the force and a big rock to save himself. He would have had a light saber and the cave troll would have had six tentacles, each one armed with a double-tipped light saber.

I never thought I’d say this, but I now have to admit that there are really only 2 1/2 Star Wars movies. It’s an awful realization, and it will take me some time to come to terms with this and understand what my life will mean now that the firm shell of protection I’d encased my love for these movies in has a giant crack in it. I don’t want to believe that the hole in the fabric of these movies goes farther back than Jedi. At least I’ll always have Empire, the last bright spot of hope before the franchise became an evil empire forever.

I know, I know, Lucas was going for iconic appearances and the costumes from Episode IV are no doubt the most memorable. Luke’s karate uniform, Leia’s nightgown, Han’s Henley undershirt with the sort of vest and boots only a Rush fan could wear with pride.

Except here’s the thing.

Remember the part where Leia was rescued from the prison block on the Death Star? It looked like she’d been in there for days. Between capture, torture, and the prison bitches of Detention Block AA-23, she probably wasn’t fresh as a daisy when Han and Luke showed up to save her. I mean, when Vader showed up with the mind probe, did you see a shower in there? Did you see a sink or a toilet? I didn’t. All I saw was a bench that didn’t look quite as comfortable as Jabba’s nice blubbery tail.

Then what happens? They all take a dive down the garbage chute. Everyone freaks out. It stinks. It’s squishy. It’s damp. And something is gnawing on their legs. The only really believable reaction to the stink comes from Chewbacca, who starts yowling and pounding on the door. I mean, think about it. It’s gonna take a bucket of Pantene to clean him up. Yet somehow when they escape Chewy’s hair isn’t matted and Leia’s dress is still white. Even more odd, when they finally gets back to the Millennium Falcon and escape the bad guys everybody is still sitting around in their dirty clothes. There should have been a death match between Leia and Chewy over the last bottle of shampoo on the ship. Yet the princess is still wearing her dirty stinking dress when she gets to the rebel base on Yavin IV, and she’s still wearing it hours later during the battle.

What’s that, you say? Perhaps she took a shower and washed her dress? It’s a remote possibility, but riddle me this: if you had fallen into a garbage chute, is there any amount of soap suds that could make you ever want to wear those clothes again? If you were a princess, wouldn’t you burn them and like, get some new robes? Hell, Leia’s mom couldn’t go from breakfast to lunch without a complete wardrobe change. Clearly she gives some kind of a crap about her appearance as she takes the trouble to have incredibly high-maintenance hair. So what’s up with the grody clothes, Your Worship?

Episode IV was by far the most realistic story in the entire Star Wars franchise. Everything seemed plausible, from Luke and Ben barely being able to scrape together cash for plane tickets to Han’s P.O.S. somehow being the vehicle that saves the day. But even amidst all the chaos and madness, somebody would have taken the time to take a shower. If C-3PO gets excited about a bath, Chewbacca ought to get amped like it’s Life Day from just looking at a bar of soap. Yet nobody cleans up until the very end, when somebody in the rebel government’s PR department probably went, “Hey, we need to do a photo op and our heroes smell like week old pastrami left in the back seat of a Pinto parked in Bakersfield.” And there they are, smiling and combed and washed and wearing something that isn’t covered in sand, engine grease, and whatever goes down the drain in space prisons.

My point is that the closing scene clearly indicates that even in the throes of a galactic civil war, someplace they have showers and a laundromat. So what the hell?

Just sayin’.

Have fun, kids!

Rebel Scum Rebel Scum is a grungy red, cream and gray theme released with a Creative Commons do whatever you want with it license. It’s for scruffy nerf herders. Right column, widgets, highly textured with lots of shadowing. Looks best on a modern browser that supports HTML5.

Dear Katie,

The world is a lot more connected than it used to be. Sometimes we focus too much on the dangers of being able to contact many people online, but your story is why the Internet is awesome. Thousands and thousands of people just like you were able to hear about your experience with bullying and show support for you. All of us geeks are out here, and we are looking out for you.

Be proud that you are adopted. Be proud because your parents chose you. There is a lot more to family than just blood. What really makes a family are people who choose to care for each other.

Be proud that you wear glasses. They help you to see the world in perfect focus, so that you can read, learn, and grow. They will help to make your mind beautiful.

Be proud that you want to express yourself. If there are things that you love and make you happy, like Star Wars water bottles, then GO FOR IT! You can do anything you want. Don’t let anybody ever tell you something different.

You rock. Don’t ever forget it. And if you ever need someone to remind you, just ask us. The Internet will be there for you.

I would love to make you some Jedi robes if you would like, so that you can show off your Star Wars pride whenever you want! If you are interested, have your parents e-mail me at stella at robotfromthefuture dot com.

Stella

The first two I made were way back in 1999, when some brothers I went to school with wanted to go as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. They tried to persuade me to work up an Amidala costume, to which I retorted that any planet dumb enough to elect a fourteen year old girl as its ruler deserved to be invaded by robots. They were low budget costumes, but I made some lucky finds in the clearance section of the fabric store and they ended up looking a lot more lifelike as Jedis than Ewan Mcgregor and Liam Neeson ever did. (I suspect that this had less to do with my costumes and more to do with the fact that my friends had personalities.)

Many billowing polyester robes later, I’m going for this:

This will be my first non-traditional Jedi costume. In some ways it will be much easier (I don’t need to sew five layers of clothing) and much harder (how the heck am I going to make armor plating?) My friend Shawn is committed to a kickass costume, so today we planned it out and bought our first pieces. I found some cotton/poly chenille upholstery fabric for a tabard that looks like raw wool but is lighter in weight than it looks and won’t cling to other fibers. We dropped by American Apparel and bought a small long sleeved black t-shirt, and I was glad that I didn’t have to talk Shawn into accepting spandex leggings for the bottom layer. He understood, as so few before him have, that sweatpants were not an option. In the suiting section we found dark brown polyester that will make a lightweight robe that will still billow nicely and hold its shape.

To create the armor, Shawn is looking into what he could do with actual sheet metal, although I’m more inclined to buy second hand football, soccer and hockey gear, cannibalize it, and paint it. I lean heavily toward plastic parts as they don’t rip fabric, don’t make you tired, and don’t set off metal detectors at the airport, causing security to ask why there is chain mail and a morning star in your luggage. (Don’t ask.) We want the finished costume to have a nice lived-in feel, so I’ll be distressing the fabric and the armor with stains, maybe a repaired tear here or there, and blaster marks on the armor.

Tonight during two re-runs of Doctor Who I figured out the pattern and cut out the tabard. When I’ve got the whole thing figured out I’ll post the pattern here, just in case anybody else is crazy enough to try to become a Jedi in three months or less.