STAR WARS AT 49!

As many of my fellow Star Wars:Day One brethren will tell you, the opening weekend for George Lucas seminal Science Fantasy masterpiece was a moment etched permanently into the fabric of our youth. It was a jolt of pure electricity, a surge of excitement I had not felt before or since. Between the Marvel Comics adaptation that started shipping earlier that spring, to the barrage of tv commercials flooding the airwaves, me and my friends had a healthy anticipation for what we were about to witness over Memorial Day weekend, 1977. Nothing, but nothing, could have prepared us for what we were about to experience.

The slow crawl of the sprawling under belly of the Star Destroyer sent a message to all of us seated at the City Center Cinemas in Orange, Ca., one of 32 cinemas that Star Wars debuted on opening day, the message was clear - you’ve never seen anything like this before. Not in Planet Of The Apes, not in Star Trek, not in Sinbad and, it was so far above and beyond the imagery in Logan’s Run, the big sci-fi movie the previous summer, you’d think they were separated by a decade, not a mere 12 months.

And the images kept coming, rapid fire, non-stop. One after another. The flash of pulsing laser fire as the droids raced across the corridor, the lumbering Banthas. The Cantina. The light saber igniting for the first time. Obi-Wan’s sacrifice. The trench run. Han’s return. The medal ceremony. It was overwhelming. It was exhilarating. The spell that Star Wars cast over the audience was something I can remember vividly to this very day. I was nine years old and I felt like I had just watched the world change in real time.

My dad reminded me over and over that he was the furthest thing from a sci-fi fan, he liked a good “Drama”, cops and courtrooms were his thing, but he had collected Captain America comic books when he was a kid and was always looking for a way to connect with his hyper imaginative son. Star Wars was the ticket, I was so excited to see it alongside him. It was Saturday May 28, 1977, the afternoon matinee. Even by Nine-Year old standards, I’d seen a whole lot of movies in my day, King Kong, Bad News Bears, The Apple Dumpling Gang, Jaws, a slew of Disney films, I’d never seen a theater with every seat occupied. I sat on the edge of my chair, I never imagined I’d be so connected to a group of characters. The Medal Ceremony that closes the film still gets me choked up. The whole movie brings me back. Had the saga never extended or expanded beyond this one single adventure, it would still stand as one of the all time great cinematic achievements. It shook me. It shook the world.

We exited the theater and headed towards the car, I was already in the sway of the experience, swinging an imaginary light saber in every direction. My Dad, a strict Baptist Minister, fired up the car, pulling out our Buick slowly, carefully, out of the busy parking lot, he paused, looking over at me with a stern glance, “ Robbie, I don’t want to see you praying to the Force.” There was a long beat  “That’s not real, son.” I rolled my eyes, “C’mon Dad.”

Truth be told, he had every reason to be concerned, I was as obsessed as obsessed could be. The few Star Wars issues that Marvel had released sat on a shelf of comics in my closet, I returned home that night and pored over every page with renewed interest. They had taken on even greater meaning than before. The audiences of 1977 didn’t have smart phones, we didn’t have internet, we had no web sites to dial up and observe movie images and screenshots. We had only our memories to sort and scant pictures in newspapers and magazines with which to linger. Marvel’s Star Wars comics were the closest thing a kid had to any manner of meaningful memorabilia with which to interact with. I grabbed my drawing pad and started doodling pictures of Chewbacca and Darth Vader and the rest of the cast and various vehicles.

I was fortunate to live in a neighborhood of boys, all my same age, sharing my same interests. Mike & Mike and Mondo, Craig and Eddie, we all became Star Wars enthusiasts and every weekend, without fail, we made our way to the local movie house to watch Star Wars. I’d see it twice every Saturday for the rest of the summer. Star Wars became my baby sitter, my folks were happy to drop all of us off in the morning and pick us up around 5pm. The days being long, we returned home with the rest of the evening to swap comic books, cards and to play Star Wars adventures. My friends, they all wanted to be Han, I was the lone Luke Skywalker super fan. The Force was most definitely with me.

As summer turned to fall and my opportunities to see the film diminished, the Marvel Star Wars comics became that much more important. Today’s kids have Disney Plus, my son’s had Cartoon Network and The Clone Wars, if my generation wanted continued adventures of Luke, Han & Leia, it was experienced through the comic books Marvel was publishing. Those comics took me to new planets and expanded the characters and possibilities of this universe  before anyone had heard any rumblings of a sequel.

The cultural impact of Star Wars is immeasurable. Every story you hear about the hunger for Star Wars merchandise, a fever that created unprecedented demand for the action figures, trading cards, coloring books, posters, calendars, board games, Slurpee Cups, it’s all true. Upon leaving the theater, I wanted more ways to access this incredible world of imagination that Lucas had unleashed on us. Later that year, my friends and I rode our bikes to the liquor store, pooled our money and bought a box of Star Wars trading cards. We sat on my front lawn, ripping open pack after pack, dividing them up, trading our doubles with each other, talking Star Wars until sundown when our mothers called us inside. Consumed does not begin to cover the manner with which we devoured Star Wars.

It should come as no surprise that Marvel’s Star Wars comic became their top seller, it turned into a veritable Gold Mine, restoring the companies sagging fortunes during a tumultuous circulation period. Yes, Stan Lee confirmed on multiple occasions that he did not want to get into the Star Wars business. That’s a much longer tale, one I recounted in great detail back in 2020.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/robservations-with-rob-liefeld/id1515536209?i=1000477723900

And later, I delved even further into the details that era, here.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/robservations-with-rob-liefeld/id1515536209?i=1000534221941

No one, not even George Lucas himself anticipated the runaway success his vision had achieved. Marvel moved quickly to capitalize on their sudden good fortune, building impressive new worlds for the core cast of Luke, Leia, Han and Darth Vader, the only caveat, that Luke and Vader could not square off in the comics, as that was a showdown reserved for the next film as it gathered momentum. As long as those guardrails were adhered to, Star Wars comics had plenty of creative runway.

After months of buzz in magazines like Starlog, a sequel to Star Wars was officially confirmed. While we waited for The Empire Strikes Back to take shape, Marvel fed our appetite for all things Star Wars. There were Space Pirates, a Water World, A return to Tatooine to foil the Empire, an intergalactic casino called The Wheel, Crimson Jack, Baron Tagge, fresh Bounty Hunters, Darth Vader always one step behind in his pursuit to find Luke and solo missions for Princess Leia. These stories from 1977 to 1980 were pulpy, sometimes camp, reminiscent in tone and representative of the legendary sci-fi works that influenced George Lucas as he shaped his saga, Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers. In fact, George’s failed attempt to bring Flash Gordon to life lead directly to his creation of Star Wars.

It was apparent to me, even at ten years old, that the Marvel creatives tasked with bringing the comics to life were having as much fun with this cultural milestone as they could. If there were hassles behind the scenes at Lucasfilm, restrictions on what was and was not allowed, I never felt it in the material. Roy Thomas and Howard Chaykin kicked things off with their official movie adaptation, but the bulk of the monthly Star wars comics went on to be produced by the late, great, Archie Goodwin and the legendary Carmine Infantino, the defining artist of DC’s Flash adventures throughout the Silver Age of comics. Archie understood the soap opera dynamics that drove monthly comic book addictions and melded that drama and those sensibilities into the Star Wars cast of characters. New planets and civilizations were being lobbied by the interests of both Rebellion and Imperial agendas, twists and turns galore as alliances shifted to keep the tensions mounting. The stories were bright and fun, packed with action and always a great cliff hanger to leave you desperate for the next issue. Again, Lucasfilm held all the cards and played them close to the vest as to not compromise the all important sequel. Plenty was uncertain. Remember, during this period, Jabba The Hut looked like this.

The Marvel comics distinctly changed after Empire was released. They became even more hemmed in to the now definitive, more restrictive parameters that Lucas had established. The wild, free wheeling, space pulp adventures of the previous years were much more limited, no more Space Pirates in hot pants and jet packs. The previous, pre-Empire set of stories had a throw-it-all-against-the-wall and see what sticks aspect. I loved them. Marvel knew all along that what we young fans really wanted, what we truly desired, was further adventures, any adventures, of these tremendous characters that had so completely grabbed and dominated our attention. We were eager for more space ships, more aliens, more Jedi. We would follow them all across the universe.

And we did. And for that, I am forever grateful. Thank you George, Thank you, Stan, Roy, Archie and all the gang at Marvel.

Talk Soon!

Rob