So I literally just realized this a few minutes ago, while on the toilet, no less: I’ve been hemming and hawing about writing the TLJ review– have been actively avoiding doing it, in fact– because Star Wars fandom has been showing their collective asses in a big, big way this week, and oh Jesus Christ am I so very tired of Star Wars fans.
I used to love y’all. You used to be my people. I spent three fucking days in line for Episode One, and it still ranks as a treasured memory. We all had a blast.
It was the last time being a Star Wars fan was fun.
Look at this nonsense for a second:
The person who put this together does not remember spending three years wondering if Vader was really Luke’s father, guys. If you want to talk about divisive Star Wars movies, we can start with that shit. And I am tired, so very fucking tired, of people taking an entertainment franchise that goes in a different direction than they expected and interpreting it as a very personal Attack on Their Childhood.
Fuck your childhood.
(Another reason I haven’t written the piece yet: there’s a piece going around called The Last Jedi Doesn’t Care What You Think About Star Wars– And That’s Why It’s Great. Chances are you’ve seen it, since I imagine anyone reading this is pretty much guaranteed to be some flavor of geek anyway. I coulda written that article, guys, and it’s kinda thrown a monkeywrench into me writing my own piece.)
I loved the goddamn movie. Loved the goddamn movie, and having waited a week to talk about it has not cooled my ardor, nor has it caused me to abandon the fact that I’ve apparently managed to deem two Star Wars movies in a row my new favorite Star Wars movie. I have! It’s true. And my favorite behind those two? Fuck you, it’s Return of the Jedi, considered the least of the Original Trilogy films by the type of person who claims to be a Star Wars fan but when pressed will tell you they hate every single one of the films except for ANH and Empire.
So, yeah. Fuck those guys. I’m tired of Star Wars fans.
But I loved the movie. Maybe now that I’ve got this bullshit off my chest, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.