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CINEMA SEEN - "Shaken But Not Stirred" By William Margold So there I was, sitting way back and just slightly left of center on a recent Thursday afternoon in Pacific's Arclight Cinerama Dome watching the latest installment of "Star Wars" when an earthquake shook the landmark theatre. "Hmmm", I thought, "what a great special effect," and then I realized that there wasn't enough action going on, on the screen at the time, to justify such a rumbling and shaking sensation. Trying mightily to concentrate on the well-staged battle sequences (despite acting efforts that were woodenly woeful), my mind wasn't being altogether consumed by director George Lucas' new galactic go-round. In fact, while I was watching STAR WARS EPISODE III---REVENGE OF THE SITH (20th Century Fox), I spent considerable time remembering (and in some cases, trying to forget) the five episodes.and almost 30 years.that had led up to this moment in my life. It seemed like just yesterday (in fact, it was May, 1977) that I came out of the first "Star Wars" ("A New Hope") screening in the Zanuck Theater on the Fox lot, and burbled excitedly to the magnificent and massive PR icon Jet Fore, "what a wonderful movie." Because duty called, I saw it with my girlfriend of that period, but I swore to treat my old friend and Hollywood Press reviewing companion, James "Jimmy" Sheldon, to it as soon as possible. And on the Sunday after it opened, we sat through it not once, but twice, at The Chinese Theater. We were like little kids, all wide-eyed and almost too easily pleased, innocently and delightfully caught up in the simplistic joys and glories of Lucas' hi-tech but supremely emotional "outer space western." Eventually the film would become my favorite film of that decade. Knowing full well that associates (particularly symbiotic movie-going and reviewing ones) were harder to find than girlfriends, I made sure that I saw 1980's "The Empire Strikes Back" and 1983's "The Return of the Jedi" with Master Sheldon. I remember that even then however, I was already becoming restless with Lucas' creations, but chalked it up to getting older, and becoming less innocent. Sixteen years later (1999), many associates and a few girlfriends had come and gone, and I had found a new friend (and avid "Star Wars" fan) named Ray Wilson, who I was honored to take to an early screening of "The Phantom Menace" and in 2002, to see "Attack of the Clones." He was still quite the little kid at a Saturday morning matinee, but by this time I was a great deal older, and innocence was multiply ruptured memory of the past, and I was utterly under-whelmed by the pair of productions. Although certainly not lacking associates (and really not in the market for a girlfriend), I decided to see the latest "Star Wars" a few weeks after it opened, by myself, which landed me in the Dome on that aforementioned earthquake-shattered afternoon. And while not exactly swept out of my seat, I figured that I owed it to Lucas to get more than just casually caught up in the lives of the characters (Obi-Wan, Yoda, etc.) that had become cinematic soul-mates over what (since I am nearing 62 years old) was almost half of my own lifetime. And so, as the Jedi Knights were assassinated, I shed a few tears. And as Anakin Skywalker finally evolved into Darth Vader, I shuddered a few shivers. And then I went home and I watched "A New Hope" from its majestic soaring start to its cheer-inducing climax. And I felt damn good, because I knew that "The Force would be with me.always!" end NOTE: Originally published in L.A. Xpress, June 30, 2005. |