STAR WARS: EPISODE ONE - THE PHANTOM MENACE

This is not an easy thing to write.

This is far from simple.

I wanted to write up a time, showing my actions from 12:01 PM May 18th to 12:01 PM May 19th. It failed.

I wanted to do so many other things, in addition.

They failed.

Why?

STAR WARS: EPISODE ONE - THE PHANTOM MENACE is an event that cannot be confined in finite text.

Words cannot begin to adequately explain what we are trying to express.

Yet, words are the most powerful thing we have.

We are defined by the words that we use, and the world is defined for us.

Still, words are nothing more than movements of muscles and air.

It is the meaning that we give to that words that matter.

It is the meaning that is the defining principle.

We can write words, but we cannot set down the meaning.

The meaning exists not here or there. The meaning is something learned through past experiences. It is the meaning that makes us who we are.

We are meaning. We are memory. We are images frozen in time, stolen from a single instant and forever held onto.

Let me try to explain.

We have waited for months -- years -- for STAR WARS: EPISODE ONE - THE PHANTOM MENACE. For me, it was around last September, if that late, that things really began to heat up.

The fire of EPISODE ONE was already burning uncontrolled on January 28th, when DAIRY FARMERS FOR QUEBEC'S INDEPENDENCE first went online.

We counted down, our fire becoming a beacon in the night.

We cherished even the slightest granule of knowledge. We preferred things small, as big chucks of information would give us meaning that we did not yet want.

I know.

I bought the EPISODE ONE novel, script, soundtrack, etc. when they were first made available.

I knew QUI-GON was going to die long before May 19th. I knew QUI-GON was going to die long before I bought the novel, script, soundtrack, etc.

But, it was those objects that cemented a horrible image in my mind.

I did not read the novel or script, but I did flip though them.

I saw a storyboard.

I saw QUI-GON engulfed in flame.

It stayed with me.

Yes, the soundtrack also gave away plot points, but they were minor in the long run. They couldn't be appreciated. The music couldn't be appreciated. Without the knowledge of what the music represented, it was empty. But, once EPISODE ONE is seen, the music takes on a whole new context. There is meaning.

John Paige was the one who got the tickets.

We were in school.

We called him as he stood in line.

The community that was felt.

We were happy.

People knew it.

As EPISODE ONE approached, people began speaking with us. They could feel the community that we were part of, even if they didn't know it.

They felt our happiness.

They wanted to belong.

They wanted to believe in something.

We waited in silence. The time ticking down before us. We knew. We knew.

That final day.

That final glorious day.

Look at it now.

Look how long ago it was.

So very long.

That time.

That long time.

That needed time.

That final day.

I live in Amsterdam. It took words to convince my parents to allow me to do it.

Stay the night in Albany? A school night? Stay the night in a theatre? On the street? No sleep?

Well, it took some time, but I was going.

And, they couldn't stop me, no matter what.

I had it all planned out.

I had everything planned.

I was going to wear my black EPISODE ONE shirt. There was one problem, though. It never came. It still hasn't come yet. It's still backordered. Or canceled. Hmmm.

I went out and bought a nice grey shirt that I first saw in the wee hours of the morning when the figures first went on sale.

A grey shirt.

Grey.

Not black. Not white.

Not yes. Not no.

Not right. Not wrong.

The nature of the Universe is Contradiction.

The nature of Contradiction is Symmetry.

I bought this nice little grey shirt at K-Mart. It's something you can wear anywhere, without fear of a beating. Yet, I haven't worn it since May 19th, and I won't wear it again.

It's grey with a band of black. This black contains an N-1 FIGHTER and part of a TRADE FEDERATION BATTLESHIP.

Simple.

Elegant.

I had my stuff packed.

I had my camera. I had extra film. I had my paper. I had my lightsabre. I had my Jedi robe.

So, the Jedi robe may have been a bath robe. Maybe.

But, it wasn't on May 19th.

School passed. It hindsight, there was an eerie calmness. It took forever to come to pass, and now, it is only an instant, frozen forever.

We jumped, everything coming together.

We had bought Pause a Darth Maul lightsabre, one of the deadly ones. Nick and I've got the Qui-Gon ones that can kill you. Kinda cool, eh?

Ms. Leto, our Bio teacher, allowed Pause to play with it in class.

Oh, if only you could see what we had seen.

He was belligerent.

That final period.

We didn't care what happened or who knew.

Some took this time to strike, trying to cut us down in our moment of triumph. He did not win. We did.

Jeremy came. We boarded his Falcon. We bounced. We drove. Forever.

He warned us not to get hit in traffic in front of the theatre. If any of us did, we'd drag the corpse of our comrade with us.

No surrender. No retreat. No regrets.

We were there.

The first ones.

The First Ones.

There was John.

We jumped.

We saw the tickets.

We walked. We waited.

We then started a line.

The five of us held a party on the sidewalk.

We rode bikes, visited shops, bought leather jackets off of porches.

A female college student was next to me. She asked if I had any index cards.

Of course I did.

Normally, I would have denied it, but she was family.

We were a sad make-shift family.

I gave her the cards that she needed.

Do you know where these cards were from?

Boston.

1998.

Claudia Christian.

I'll be posting that story sometime, too.

And so ends the story of those cards.

We waited.

Aaron of the Stars of Rock arrived, only to leave soon after. We took a polaroid and had him signed it.

We all recognized him except for Mike.

He came back, wearing a Planet of the Apes shirt and wielding an old Jedi Luke lightsabre. Pause bent it.

We were prepared. Chairs. Phones. TVs.

We sat. We waited.

There were struggles.

By not naming them, I deny their existence. I deny them immortality. They die. They never existed.

After all, all we really want is to be remembered.

History is never how we remember it. History is told by the victor. The Truth is told by the dead. Win that final battle.

But, I will tell the bad along with the good. I want to show my mistakes. I want to learn.

I am ashamed of what I did when a young fan, dressed as Obi-Wan, arrived.

I mocked him.

I spoke of him dressing up as Obi-Wan, but us being first.

I am sorry.

I am sorry.

They are just words, yet. But, there is meaning in my words.

I learned, yet others grew to despise him. I know not why. This was a community.

This was a family.

The line grew.

The friends passed by.

The time passed.

We were there.

We were there.

News crews came by to interview us.

We had DFFQI posters up.

Amidala was with us.

Pause had given me an Amidala paper doll book.

Funny, eh?

FOX came.

FOX.

Ha!

We love FOX.

The night was cold.

We were a tight clan.

Aaron watched FUTURAMA with us.

Bender went to hell.

It's still the last one that has been aired by FOX.

We also saw NewsRadio and the Simpsons.

Rain.

We moved into the theatre before 10.

We jumped into our seats.

It was sold out.

FOX was there.

We saw ourselves on TV.

Michael had gone to be with a wonderful woman who could curse in countless tongues.

They danced.

Pause was the belle of the ball.

He appeared on every newscast.

He fought OBI-WAN and QUI-GON.

Oh.

He was interviewed.

Again and again.

Then, his crown was stolen by a wheelchair bound old woman in a Yoda hat.

We waited.

We thought we were close.

Ha!

Those final hours.

Those final minutes.

Those final seconds.

Then, we saw it.

We cheered as one as LUCASFILM glittered.

We cheered as one as the FOX fanfare drummed.

We cheered as one as STAR WARS appeared on screen.

We cheered as one.

We were One.

We were Family.

We all have to believe in something, why not a movie? Why not, eh? We all worship the same god.

We were One.

We were Family.

Communal gasps were heard when OBI-WAN and QUI-GON first appeared.

We gasped again when we saw the fear and respect that the name JEDI invoked. A word. A meaning. Understanding. A power.

We had forgotten about MAUL.

We were so involved, we had forgotten about DARTH MAUL.

Our minds were completely absorbed by the screen.

It went so quickly.

We were in Otoh Gunga before we knew it.

The sabres.

The fluid dance that the sabres were part of.

The respect.

The power.

The fact that these were REAL JEDI.

QUEEN AMIDALA was there. Natalie Portman will be someone, someday. She will be important. In 20 years, she will be the Queen of Hollywod. She, Lisa, will watch the MACROSS on the horizon, Rick holding her in her arms.

Then, we saw DARTH MAUL.

We gasped.

He was on screen for only a minute time, but he ate up every moment.

We went to Tatooine.

We met ANAKIN.

ANAKIN was perfect.

The pod race.

AURRA SING.

DARTH MAUL.

We went to Coruscant.

MACE WINDU.

YODA.

PALPATINE.

We went back to Naboo.

Those final 30 minutes are among the finest 30 minutes ever caught on film.

Four fights balanced on screen.

The CG was perfect.

When AMIDALA went to the hangar door, MAUL stood there.

And, there was a pause.

There was a gasp.

There was fear.

Everything stopped.

OBI-WAN and QUI-GON took him on.

Their fighting was furious.

There was rage in their eyes.

Their emotion was genuine.

When QUI-GON was struck down, there was a gasp.

All of us, no matter who we were or what we had thought of MAUL, hated him. Hatred burned within our hearts. We wanted him dead.

Some say that there was no emotion in the film. They are wrong. Look at the faces. Look at the eyes. If people say there is no emotion, then they cannot see it. They are blind. They cannot feel. They say Natalie Portman was horrible. They say she had no emotion. AMIDALA was a 14-year-old ruler of a planet. She was hiding her emotions. She was keeping them held back. They almost escaped when she held a gun to the NEIMOIDIAN. You could hear it in her voice.

Then it was over.

ANAKIN was the hero.

The ending was surprisingly similar to one that I had written when I first listened to Auggie's Great Municipal Band. I'll post that, too.

We stumbled out of the theatre.

I tell what I want to tell.

We fell to the floor.

We had no breath.

We were in Tomorrow.

We spoke, eventually.

We were One.

We saw those who had not seen it.

Pause needed a moment with himself to bury a friend.

We saw it again.

Long ago, I said that at one point in the night, we would fall asleep. When most of the world had not even seen it once, we would be sleeping in the Light.

We did.

Only for a moment.

We ventured out.

Morning.

It was not like we had planned.

It was hardly like we had planned.

Things were different.

We were interviewed on TV and radio.

We went back to Pause's.

We got ready for school, those who would go.

We went.

I fought sleep for those grueling six hours.

We were gods.

STAR WARS was popular.

People had seen us on TV. We were famous.

We had won.

We had won.

I fell asleep, though.

They let me.

Thank you.

---

Peter Tatara
8.19.1999