I was ten years old when Star Wars came out. Read the comics and the novel (ghostwritten by Alan Dean Foster, who also did the novelization of “Alien”) before I saw the movie, but when I did see it, it was in style at Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood.
I loved Star Wars. Heck, I was Han Solo in an unfinished college student’s film… but that’s another story. I stood in line for the next two movies, and dutifully (but with increasing disappointment) paid money to see the last (first) three. But the whole thing never made much sense to me. Even less sense, really, once parts I-III were added to the mix.
Finally, a gentleman by the name of Keith Martin has put all the nonsense together in a way that actually holds together. I doubt even George Lucas considered the throughline Martin has deduced, or cared to. Too bad — the films actually would have been much better if this had been the real backstory.
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