It was a short debate: either we go Saturday June 5th (the day after it opened). Or my friends and I wait until the last day of school, June 30th - which was also the last day ever of Primary school for us all. (so long Lindsay Road, hello Mount Temple).
But that didn't matter. All that mattered was the Return Of The Jedi
Like oh so many kids of my generation, I lived for Star Wars. It really was a galaxy far, far away from Cabra in north Dublin, with its speeding cars - sometimes stolen - and intermittent horses with occasional buggy. In the eyes of a twelve year-old, hardware and software both incomparable to the likes of a Millennium Falcon, X-Wing, AT-AT, Tie-Fighter, Star Destroyer, Super Star Destroyer (I could go on; and I will) Scout Walker, Slave-1, Snow Speeder, Tie-Bomber, A-Wing, B-Wing et al.
Yes, it was the space ships that got me, the adventure followed.
But now, the end was near. The Jedi may be returning (in the form of a mature, less whiny Luke Skywalker) but this was the last hurrah for Han, Lea, Chewbacca,C-3PO, R2-D2, all our childhood heroes.
All through 1982 into the spring of '83 the waiting seemed endless.
The memory of my first taste of the final chapter in the Star Wars saga is an aural one: the whine of speeder bikes from a clip on Barry Norman’s BBC review show Film ‘83. Even today whenever I see the movie, that particular scene tickles the memory in its own special way.
Then came the clip of the attack on the Death Star. My sweet lord: galactic ecstasy! When that burning A-Wing crashes into the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer, which itself nose dives into... Sorry, I’m getting distracted. I still have my own Speeder Bike! Bought at Argos in Belfast during one of our family road trips. I personally filled out the little docket making sure I got the Scout Trooper to drive it.
The Kenner Star Wars toys, yes. As I got older, they went from being toys to sacred relics. And being the movie-Catholic that I am, to this day, I’ve kept them all close to my heart (or at least in my attic). Sometimes I take them out and, well, smell them, for the quick fix trip back in time. Though that may have something to do with the chemicals now being sweated by the action figures after forty plus years.
There are You Tube video guides on how to wash them to get rid of this, but it seems somehow blasphemous to drown your childhood in a bucket of Goodall’s white vinegar.
I was trying to write about what Star Wars means to me. In a way, I owe it everything. Star Wars, Empire and Jedi captured my young self and shot through me at lightspeed, weaving memories from early life to adolescence. As it did for countless others across the planet. And it made me a constant and independent movie-goer. That first show on Saturday of Return Of The Jedi at the Ambassador cinema in Dublin was the first time I went to the cinema sans-parents.
It would not be the last.
To say life after the closing credits that day was a comedown is not an understatement. Star Wars…was done. I’d be a teenager in a few months. That same Saturday evening we drove to Portrane and stayed in our mobile home down by the Irish sea. There would be a girl there that summer in a caravan field not too far, far away. Being the actual Catholic I still was, that night I said a prayer. I wish I was making this up, but I’m not: I prayed in a whisper for more Star Wars. More of Luke, Leia, Han Chewbacca and Threepio!
Me and my big mouth, eh?
But I made peace some time ago with the return of my fictional childhood heroes. It helped by taking my actual childhood heroes to see The Force Awakens. Mum, dad and me, we had a great night out.
But Star Wars is simply not made for me anymore. And I’m okay with that.
Indiana Jones, on the other hand…
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny is in cinemas on June 30th, 2023
