Ever since The Farce Awakens hit the scene in 2015, I’ve been kind of dreading the arrival of The Least Jedi.
Okay, scratch the kinda.
From the age of five, when I first saw Star Wars in 1977, I was a full-blown fanatic for the series, eager to catch midnight premier showings of each new installment and happily taking in each new episode multiple times during their theatrical runs (yes, even the prequels). Then along came The Farce Awakens…and everything changed.
That incomparably (pre-Least Jedi, anyway) lazy, lame, incomprehensively incompetent nightmare of a flick flick singlehandedly shifted me from a lifelong happy, enthusiastic Star Wars nut destined to haunt cinemas for a week or two around the launch of each new release into…well…more of a “maybe I’ll Redbox it later” kind of guy. (And even the potential Redboxing was more of a morbid curiosity inspired deal.)
After J.J. Abrams’ and Kathleen Kennedy’s brutalizing/cashing out of a once beloved sci-fi franchise (which I discussed in a post here), the magic was gone. Or, to be more accurate, crushed; ground under heel of that most sithy of sith lords known as Mickey Mouse.
I know that it …
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(The opinions in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Southern Nation News or SN.O.)