Rouge One is the biggest movie on the planet, and we finally devote a whole show to talk about the most diverse (or is it?) Star Wars ever filmed. Joining in on the fun is Tosche-Station.net writer, and Star Wars superfan, Bria LaVorgna and Black Girl Nerds’ movie reviewer, and occasional NOC contributor, Valerie Complex. [Spoilers throughout!]
by Jamal Igle
Star Wars: The Force Awakens is a juggernaut. Critically acclaimed and the current holder of the title of “biggest film opening of all time.” It’s an engaging film that engrosses the viewer and harkens back to the early days of franchise. As it is with all things pop culture, particularly in the age of internet piety, the film also has its detractors. The complaints range across the spectrum but one of the most pointed complaints have been towards Finn, the character portrayed by British actor John Boyega. Two writers whom I’m good friends with — Hannibal Tabu and Joe Illidge — have both written pieces complaining about the character for similar reasons, calling him inept, and even neutered.
I love you guys, you know I do, but I couldn’t disagree with you more. Now this is going to be a rather spoiler filled piece, so if you haven’t seen the movie, now’s your time to hit the eject button and go look at Buzzfeed.
“Chewie, we’re home.”
With those three words, the internet became the happiest place in the galaxy. For an hour on Thursday, millions of UPFs (ultra passionate fans, as coined by Mark Hamill, himself) around the world tuned in to YouTube to watch a live stream of the eagerly anticipated Force Awakens panel at Star Wars Celebration. And if you stuck around for the whole hour, it did not disappoint as director JJ Abrams and Lucasfilm president Kathleen Kennedy unveiled the second teaser for Episode VII. We
should have been working live-tweeted the whole thing. Choice tweets (and the trailer, of course) are after the jump.
It is a shame that, for the rest of my life, I will associate the word “nigger” with the Star Wars universe. It was 1977, and by the time that I got to kindergarten, I had seen George Lucas’ epic five times. It was everything a little boy could want: spaceships, laser guns, good vs. evil, all the stuff a growing boy needs to activate his imagination.
I’m not sure about you, but the kids at my school always wanted to “play” whatever movie or television show that was popular at the time. So, that autumn, all you heard at recess was, “let’s play Star Wars.” I always wanted to play, but I used my recess time to read comic books and daydream. Rarely did I hang out with the other kids. The Sunday of my second week of kindergarten, my mother took my uncle and me to see the film again. It was different this time. Much different. I was no longer a voyeur to the spectacle; I was in that mutha! I was Han Solo. By this time, I had already shown that I had criminal leanings, so Mr. Solo was the perfect choice.
Monday’s recess came around, and this time I was ready to get my Star Wars on. I stood in line to get picked, and Matthew May (his real name) began to assign people to their respective characters:
“Okay, Bobby, you can be Luke Skywalker. Tia, you’re Princess Leia. Nick and Mike, you’re twins, so you can be R2-D2 and CfweePeeO. And I’m always Han Solo.” He looked at me, his face one big ass knot of confusion, “Um…Shawn. Um…Well, you’re a nigger, so you can be either Chewbacca or Dark Vader.”
Dark Vader, mind you. Not Darth.