The Wait For New Stars

Someone announced that December would bring a new Star Wars film, and the news landed with this weird weight I wasn’t expecting. After all the years since Return of the Jedi, the dead period where the only new material was books and toys and endless arguments about what should happen next, suddenly there was going to be actual film. JJ Abrams directing. Lawrence Kasdan on the script. John Williams doing the score. On paper it looked right.

I remember the strange feeling of it—wanting to care, wanting to believe it could be good, but also knowing that nothing recaptures what those original films meant when you were young. The mythology had already happened. Whatever they made would have to exist in relation to that, not replace it. It was going to be a different thing entirely, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to want it.