It is January, my dudes, and although the first month of the year isn’t exactly the barren wasteland for movies it used to be, you might’ve noticed there’s also a wee pandemic going on. So, this specific January, 2021, there is a straight-updearthof blockbusters to discuss or think about, which led me right back to where I usually go in these times of great pop culture need:Star Wars. No, there’s no new Star War this month, but there is residual hype fromThe Mandalorianseason 2, that “interconnected mega-story” going on in Lucasfilm publishing, the news of a Boba Fett spinoff, as well as the announcement that Disney+ will be debutingStar Warsshows pretty much until the sun burns out. Together with a recent rewatch of the main trilogy of trilogies, I’ve been thinking a lot lately not just about the future ofStar Wars, but also why I—and millions of people with me—became so attached to this sci-fi franchise in the first place. This exploration didn’t start with the Battle of Yavin, or the “I am your father” moment, or any particular podrace.
It started when Darth Vader tosses an unnamed Rebel against the wall like a sack of potatoes inA New Hope.
It’s such a low-key striking moment that, for the first time, I thought “what isthatguy’s deal?” What was my man’s life like before Vader casually lobbed him into a wall like a 5LB medicine ball? You barely have time to process it before an unnamed Imperial Officer decides not to shoot down an escape pod—thus allowing literally 44 years of storytelling to continue—and it’s like, woof, what isthatguy’s story? What even is the name of the dude who lives in a galaxy where humans are arguably out-populated by droids and still can’t fathom why an escape pod wouldn’t have life forms aboard? It’s gotta be, like, Imperial Staff Sergeant Gerald Beans, right? Anyway, you barely have time to processthatbefore an unnamed Stormtrooper legitpopsinto frame on Tattooine holding a droid part and exclaims “look sir, droids!” with the glee of a Victorian-era orphan finding a two pence piece in his Christmas stocking. What, I ask, isthatguy’s story?
Etc, etc, etc. When you watchStar Warswith an eye on the no-name supporting characters—even the ones just lingering in the background—it really gives a sense of why this world lives and breathes unlike anything else.Star Warsdoes a lot of its worldbuilding through suggestion, introducing you to a parade of unexplainable characters and then leaving the actual explanation up to you. Wanting to know more about minorStar Warscharacters isn’t anewobservation—the Wookieepedia page forSalacious B. Crumbis several thousand words long, for example—but with potential countless spinoffs on the horizon, I’m struck by how much more entertaining (and intriguing!) these characters are when you absolutely do not ever learn anything more about them. My paternal love for the following characters would diminish, if not outright disappear, if I were to learn a single shred more context or even, in many cases, their names.
For the record, I’m aware that a good deal of minorStar Warscharacters have, in fact, been fleshed out in countless books, comics, Wiki pages, and deep web erotica. These arealllegitimate, and if you do choose to consume yourStar Warsas comprehensively as possible, more power to ya'. But one of my favorite things about this franchise is its suggestion of vastness, the idea that the stories of Luke Skywalker and Anakin Skywalker and Rey, uh, Skywalker are just a few in a galaxy filled with billions and billions of stories going untold.
Which rounds us right back to thefutureof the franchise, which has been the subject of much hullabaloo pretty much ever sinceJ.J. Abramskicked off another trilogy back in 2015. A lot of modern-dayStar Warshas done afantasticjob layering in a healthy dose of hilariously unexplained peripheral characters, like that disapproving Mon Calamari sweater bae inThe Mandalorianseason 2 who apparently managed to smuggle pure Egyptian cotton on to a fishing planet. But there’s also a troubling trend that suggestsStar Wars' main goal is to explain itself, again and again, and ensure you know that everything in the galaxy is the same base-level of badass and cool, from Boba Fett’sgoofy assdown to anobscure carrying case. In its seemingly unending future of spinoffs, one of the best thingsStar Warscan do is occasionally just let a weird-ass alien doing something weird be a weird-ass alien doing something weird. That’s what gives this sci-fi franchise its soul.
