I Should Have Known Better ...

There is a reason I didn't write my final year university dissertation on Star Wars, and instead chose "the role of women in the chainsaw films of Gunnar Hansen".

Over analysis - especially in a methodical, logical way - of something you love very quickly destroys the magic of its appeal. At first, my peers on the Scriptwriting For Film & TV course at Bournemouth University thought it was a certainty that I would write something about Star Wars and I'll admit I toyed with the idea for a while. But the more I thought about it, the less appealing it became.

I had tried to write one media studies' essay during my time at Bournemouth about the great trilogy and had it publicly lambasted in a crowded lecture hall by a tutor dismissing it as "recycled press releases" ... which, to be fair, it was. But my closeness and passion for the subject matter had blinded me to the flaws in my arguments; and so, when considering a dissertation subject I realised the problem would be magnified a thousand fold. Thus the choice of a subject that I would take less seriously and therefore enjoy dissecting - in a particularly tongue-in-cheek way.

Which brings me to Star Wars on Trial by hard sci-fi writer David Brin and Revenge of The Sith novelisation author Matthew Woodring Stover, a supposedly humourous series of essays arguing to and fro the merits - or lack thereof - of various aspects of the Saga from its plot holes and weak female characters to the dreadful spin-off novels and the films' suspect politics and religion.

I can't imagine what had blinded me to the obvious drawback (for me, personally) of this because initially I was very enthused about diving into this hot debate; but even as I read through the 'opening statements' by the main authors (other writers were called in to debate particular topics), I could feel the old, creeping disappointment. This was exactly the feeling I had had all those years ago (pre-prequels) when I thought about my own amateur dissection of the Star Wars myths.

When you watch a great magician perform his mind-boggling tricks and you find yourself wondering 'how did he do that?', you don't really want to know because then the magic will be lost forever. And it's the same for Star Wars - I don't want to know why it continues to enthral me (despite its obvious weaknesses in many areas); I'm content just knowing it does.

So Star Wars on Trial is going back on the shelf. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to tackle it, but my unquestioning faith in the Saga has lately been shaky at best (and the prequels sorely tested it, almost to breaking point) and so I don't want people who are smarter than me telling me what's wrong with my 'hero worship'. It's not a cold, intellectual thing - it's an emotional attachment, with no room for logic. You wouldn't intellectualise a love affair, so why mess with a fanboy's passion?