Memory Bank: Waiting in Line to see Star Wars (1977)

 

I will always remember the summer of 1977 and the coming of Star Wars.  It is difficult for me to reckon that it happened 40 years ago.

I was in second grade at the time, and a friend who lived up the block from me in Glen Ridge, N.J. came to school one morning with a Star Wars movie booklet; one that featured imagery of Dewbacks, Banthas, Tusken Raiders, Jawas, C3PO, Chewbacca, Darth Vader and other characters of seemingly impossible and unbelievable imagination. 

I had never seen so many strange creatures assembled between two covers, and I so listened in awe as Stephen, my friend, described the film to me in some detail. I still didn't quite understand why robots were co-existing with monsters and other creatures. 

It seemed...weird.

At this point, I should add, I was still high on King Kong (1976), and could not quite believe that any movie might possibly surpass that particular viewing experience.  

So sue me.  I was seven.

Soon after my introduction via Stephen to Star Wars, my parents took me and my sister to see the film at a movie theater in Paramus N.J., and I couldn’t wait to see what I would make of the movie.

Only -- in actuality -- I could wait. 

In line. 

For close to three hours. 

The line at the theater stretched around the large rectangular building -- around three corners -- and then led out into the huge parking lot. And the line moved at a snail’s pace.

Finally, of course, we got into the auditorium, and it was absolutely packed. Everyone in my family had to squeeze past other patrons to find four seats together. For awhile, it looked like that might not even be a possibility.

And then the movie started, and my life changed.  The movie swept me away into another world; nay another reality. My father remembers to this day, that he felt breathless during the final Death Star attack scene, it was so exciting.

That's how I felt too.

That night -- before I went to bed -- my mother asked me if I had liked the movie. My mind was still reeling, and I said that I did.  But I suppose I was a little reserved in my answer. 

She then absolved me of my guilt: “It’s okay, John if you liked it better than King Kong,” she said, apparently sensing my loyalty and allegiance to the big ape.  

My façade cracked quickly at that point and I was glad and relieved to admit the truth.

I had liked Star Wars a whole lot better than King Kong.  It truly was…amazing, like nothing I had ever imagined.  But at that point, I could not imagine what Star Wars would one day become.

I did not imagine, at age seven, that the film would open up the floodgates for other space movies that I would come to love and cherish, like Alien (1979), The Black Hole (1979), and Moonraker (1979).  

I did not imagine that it would change the shape of television, which would bring us Battlestar Galactica (1978-1981), or Buck Rogers in the 25th Century (1979-1982).

I did not understand that its success would be the impetus to finally bring back the long-in-hiatus Star Trek franchise.

Nor did I understand that the film would shape science fiction and fantasy cinema for decades to come.

And finally, I could not imagine that one day I would be taking my ten year old son out of school early to catch an afternoon show of a Star Wars sequel (The Force Awakens) or prequel (Rogue One).  Star Wars has, finally, become something that I share with my own family; with my wife and son.

At seven -- way back in 1977 -- I suppose I was just thinking about my favorite character -- Han Solo -- and how cool it would be to play Star Wars (1977) on the playground at school with my friends.

Forty years have passed, and I am now, alas, an old man.  There is white in my beard, and pain in my back from arthritis. But Star Wars continues -- a cinematic fountain of youth.  It is a story, and a kind of storytelling that -- across the generations -- has the power to make each one of us feel young again.

Where were you, and how old were you, when you first saw Star Wars?  Let me know in the comments section!

By the time The Empire Strikes Back arrived in theaters in 1980, I knew to expect a long line. And so did my parents.  Before queuing up for the sequel, they bought me Star Wars and Shogun Warrior comic books to read for the wait.  I also had my Star Wars novelization in hand, and a few action figures in my pockets.  The time in line still seemed eternal, but again, the wait was worth it.  I left the theater wondering how on Earth I was supposed to wait for three years to discover Han Solo’s fate.

Then, by the time of Return of the Jedi, there was no need to stand in line, at least in Montclair, N.J., where I saw the film at the Clairidge Theater.  

That time, I came out of the film deflated, thinking “that’s it?”  And now I must wonder if my disappointment came about at least a little bit because I missed waiting in line.  There was no build-up to the experience, and no plugging-in to the enthusiasm of other Star Wars fans and even general audiences. More likely, the movie was just disappointing, and the experience played almost no role.