Science Fiction

Star Wars Lives

~ Donald J. Lund

I didn’t get to elbow my way into an opening night viewing, or spend countless hours in a line waiting to see it, but a few days into a new era of Star Wars films, I finally saw the newest chapter.

If you’re hunting for spoilers, this isn’t the place today for it.  Still too many folks on the outside looking just yet.  A more complete spoiler filled review awaits on the horizon like a pair of Tatooine suns.

How pervasive is the George Lucas creation in our society?  Well, Tatooine passes my spellcheck for one, with or without caps the application is able to reference a fictional planet from a fictional film filled with fictional people.

Life imitates art in such a case.

Ultimately, yes, it is a just a film, or as good fortune would have it, a series of films.  In the months leading up to the highly anticipated film release, it was interesting to see some blowback from those souls who had yet to see anything Star Wars on the big or little screen.

I do get it. I know the world never universally agrees on anything. But it gets pretty close with this story.  It has a bit of everything, for all ages including those required elements fans expect from the franchise; a battle of good versus evil, wacky aliens, space ships and light saber battles, oh my.

Time magazine did a recent feature where they attempted to explain the “genius of Star Wars” as they see it.

For me, the genius is George Lucas took bits from his childhood, spiritualistic stuff from eastern philosophy – by accident or on purpose, borrowed from some of the timeless tales we enjoy across genres, and packaged the standard ‘heroes journey’ format in space, complete with updated swords made of light.

It had to be that specific combo, brewed in that creative brain to do it all with a straight face.  A serious approach to serial fiction.  And it literally paid off.  So many directors would have allowed ‘B’ movie cheese to creep in on a space opera.  Others would have cut corners on special effects to save money and have those effects look corny instead of cool.

Star Wars was never a brand new story, it was a uniquely reformatted classic for the big screen and a more modern world. A hero overcomes adversity, learns to be a better being and stays true to a more just existence.  Like Beowulf before him, Luke Skywalker tries his best to defeat a great evil threatening all of society.

As Luke was a bored kid trapped among mundane chores, looking to the stars to find adventure.  What kid hasn’t done that before?  And yet the wise Yoda warns us against such fancy, “Action. Excitement. A Jedi craves not these things.”

A kid has to grow up, be serious and kick some serious bad guy ass against impossible odds to win the day.  Luke had his hands full.

My other big heroes?  Those daring rebels.  Big, bad Darth Vader fills the screen, cutting through doors with an army of stormtroopers behind him, and those rebel troopers hold their ground, well at least as long as they could, to protect their precious cargo.

Nothing complex in the film, but I was hooked.  A dash of Shakespeare with some family tragedy crammed in between action scenes, but again, all of it thrown together really worked.

I was 12-years old in 1977.  I got to see the original feature on a family vacation with my cousins as we visited California for the first time.  In that era of movies, among Jaws and Godfather, it was an instant classic all its own.  But it was science fiction.  More fiction than science, and it didn’t matter.  It was fun that stayed with you.  Star Wars lived well beyond the big screen, it lived through books, comic books, action figures, ships, board games, role playing games, and a really bad Christmas TV special.

Of course, controversy and criticism follows anything that makes a lot of money or gets extremely sewn into the public conscious.  George made some weird changes, re-released new versions every five minutes, went a little wacky at times during follow up films and eventually he tired of the battles beyond the big screen and he sold his baby away.

Hey, at four billion dollars, I’ll listen to just about anyone about anything.

JJ Abrahams got the nod to relaunch the formula. And I think the biggest high pressure hand off in creative history has paid off again.  Younger, more diverse characters to compliment the aging classic characters.  Good guys, bad guys and a plot twist have me back on the edge of my entertained seat.

There are more serious franchises, more critically acclaimed stories, but there are no apologies owed to anyone. I love it.  Star Wars is fun.  If you hate fun, stay away from this stuff.  Escapist fun for a couple hours with the family observing our bold fictional favorites.

Until I can a hold a real life blue hued light saber that doesn’t require batteries, or fly an actual X-Wing fighter, Star Wars lives on the big screen, and the little screen once it comes out on blue ray, digital and DVD formats.  Maybe I can get away with craving some excitement.

When it comes to checking out Star Wars, “Do or do not, there is no try.”

Ignore Yoda’s advice at your own peril. We could use you, as Jedi always seem to be in short supply. Your choice, as we can take down the Death Star with or without you.

After all, the Force is with us…

An Evening With Kevin Smith

~ Donald J. Lund

We sort of got to hang out with Kevin Smith last night.  Not in the he came over to the house and had a couple beers with the family kind of way.  My wife, youngest son and me walked around the frigid Colorado December air and found Mr. Smith at the Boulder Theater.  Twenty rows back, in an uncomfortable chair and in the noisy bar area, was about as close as we could get in the 850-chair venue.

He passed along some humorous anecdotes, dropped some big time Hollywood names, a substantial pile of f-bombs and some bits I was not expecting.  Dude was throwing down serious wisdom.  Yes, the guy who happily generates genital jokes, rolls around in nerdy comic book references, and rocks the hockey jersey wardrobe worked in some sagely candor to all who would listen in that small theater.

Boiling it all away, it could have been dismissed as a ‘follow your dreams kids’ mantra passed down from high upon a stage to the wannabes below.  But there was more to it than that.  It was a big hearted man, with great empathy for all creative souls to do far more than follow dreams.  He insisted we go and  make those things happen.  Will, perseverance, whimsy, whatever it takes — but go for it without sweating the critics who surround us all in this life.

Some readers who know me may jump in at this point and remind me I can’t write about Kevin Smith objectively. It’s true.  I’m a fan. More than a fan, ever since I watched the movie Clerks in complete awe, I see him more as a brother who I haven’t got to hug yet.

In awe of Clerks?

Yes.

Because he truly made something from nothing.  And he did it by begging, borrowing, selling off personal items, applying for way too many credit cards, all to make a film he knew only he could make.

That was the perspective I learned last night.  The motivation I’d not heard before, despite years of lingering about as a fan of most of his work, and now as a fan of his endless perseverance.

He didn’t make Clerks for me.  Initially, I thought he did.  If you haven’t seen it, in essence it is a long day with two wacky dudes inside convenience stores talking about Star Wars and lame customers, and two crazy dudes outside the store, dealing and dancing. Throw in a little romance, some lasagna and dead guy in the bathroom and you have a fascinating day in the life in Jersey that stays with you.

Easy, right?  Go deep into debt, roll the dice on a little film and live a life of magic and wonder.  I think too many Kevin Smith fans look at it that way and maybe this tour in particular has him trying to explain, it ain’t that easy, but it is worth the hard work and effort.  The stuff people forget is Mr. Smith has had to constantly reload, regroup, and try again.  Create more, do more, sell more, work harder, and as he put it, ‘fail a bunch of times’ before finding more success.

I did laugh at some of the anecdotes.  I love Ben Affleck stories.  And it bums me out Bruce Willis is a complete ass.  But that information was strictly entertainment bits based on personal experience.  The message I heard was loud and clear.  If you have a creative soul, or big story to tell, don’t dream it, do it.

I was going to get in the question line at the theater last night, despite knowing so few questions get answered.  And the fan in me kind wanted the bonding moment to point out all of the places our lives intersect — if presented in those Venn Diagram circles — both of us love to write, love movies, love comics, love Tarantino, worked retail, owned comic shops, love Batman, lost our dads, he’s a Kevin with a brother named Donald, I’m a Donald with a younger brother named Kevin, roller coaster with weight issues, I’ve done radio and he does podcasts.

I keep thinking if I shake the family tree hard enough, a Smith has to drop out of there.  We have to be related.

At least I know we’re kindred spirits.  And the funny part was I started this writing trek this year, to make something from nothing.  It has been equally joyous and frustrating.  I keep looking at my words and thinking, “Yeah, this ain’t Mice and Men.  Or Plato would never waste his time with genre fiction.  Or damn this stuff sucks.”

Sagely Kevin Smith served some wisdom.  It doesn’t matter if my work isn’t meeting a social standard, or an entertainment norm.  I need to finish these stories for me.  I need to tell stories only I am capable of telling.  Send my perspective out into the world and someone may love it, or not.  But the process is worth it.  Fail a bunch, maybe succeed a little, or not at all.

I always feel better writing, so I’m going with that.  Some of the stories I worry about being rejected will now get sent out.  I have a kind, generous loving support from my wife and a pen, which is far more than a lot of folks have.

Just like that. Back on track. Wisdom from my man teaching me to go for it and how not to send inappropriate text messages.  It also does not hurt to know Johnny Depp.  See, I’m smarter already.

A little kick in the butt from hanging out with Kevin Smith.

Nice.

The Force is Strong in This One

~ Donald J. Lund

Maybe George Lucas was on to something with this whole Force thing.

I’m not sure, but my world is certainly a brighter place for discovering whatever this newer, happier, stronger self has tapped into.  Ultimately, I have to blame my family, friends and simply having an opportunity to embrace who I am by writing nearly every day.

And it is more than my current family and friends supporting my endeavor to create fictional adventures.  The new me includes the best of the people who I have lost along the way.

I know that sounds weird, but hang in there a minute.

This doesn’t mean my grandfather appears to me in robes, surrounded by a blue energy glow.  Although it would be cool.  Cooler than Yoda in Star Wars or Bob Newhart returning to haunt Sheldon in The Big Bang Theory.

It would be cool because my Grandfather was funnier than the amazingly talented Bob Newhart.  My grandfather was supremely light-hearted, kind, loving and had a huge infectious laugh that altered mundane moments into joy.  When he departed for greener pastures, or a mythical blue energy field of the Force, we can’t be sure just yet — I became stronger.

Just as Obi-Wan Kenobi warned Darth Vader would happen.

I became stronger because I gained the gift of my grandfather’s mirth.  His love of life and the want to make others smile.  A gift I had to some degree, but lost my way a while.  It took the loss of such a happy human to remind me if I can be half as joyous as him, life will be better.

My grandmother was a vastly unique person.  When she left the world, she gifted me her strength.  An Irish grandmother who had an extremely tough existence was the toughest human I ever met.  Trust me, I spent six years in the Marine Corps and I never met anyone she couldn’t take. If she had a sense of fear, I never saw it, not even when she was ill.  When she left, I became stronger, and much tougher than ever before.

Never mix your metaphors, but we need a little Star Trek to help with the next one.  My father was one with the ultimate logic string.  He could run circles around Leonard Nimoy’s awesome portrayal of Spock in the original series of that show.  If I ever tried to make a decision or convince my dad of anything, I best be packing a logical presentation or it would get shot down in a hurry.  His gift was one of pure logic.  And as Star Trek taught us, logic can’t fix everything, but it does offer a level headed approach to difficult problems and level off the emotion when calm serves best.  He is gone, and yet I am stronger.

My uncle, a Vietnam War vet was a fierce patriot yet, with one discerning eye on the government he served.  Love your country, yet question authority.  He helped make a better me. My other Irish grandparents — loving people who held a focus on the very simple joys such as work hard and play hard. And don’t overthink it. I don’t complicate every detail of life anymore now either.

Ultimately, it would be a blast to see any member of my family show up at my door in Jedi robes goofing around with their light sabers, but they have already helped me more than any Jedi-in-training I know.  I am grateful, and I love allowing the best of each of them shine through me.

Take that Dark Side.

The Force is very strong in this one.

Fired Up Over Ray Bradbury

~ Donald J. Lund

If you know what the temperature is when paper burns, you can thank the lovable legend Ray Bradbury.

As so many wise people before me have observed, anyone who wants to write, must first and always be a reader as well.  My brain is where it is today, because of many good and great books across many genres, and starting with an appreciation for Mr. Bradbury is a really good place to begin being thankful.

Fahrenheit 451 was one of those early inspirational, live changing books that forever altered my perspective of my Universe.  Published in 1953, I did not discover this gem until about 1980, and I recall it was one of the first books I could not put down once I started reading it.

While all fiction reflects some aspects of the human condition, the genius of Bradbury was recognizing a pattern long before the rest of us, and in essence, predicting the potential outcome of the human behavior he observed decades before.

I will include some minor spoilers in regards to characters and setting, but there is no reason to reveal the plot, because I would rather keep those elements a surprise for those who have yet to discover this science fiction masterpiece.  And as this particular piece is to honor the writer, I should note he did not consider himself a science fiction writer, but more of a writer overall, who happened to write a lot of fantasy and horror.  For example, he considered the Martian Chronicles more of a mythological retelling or fantasy than science fiction.  I could also tell he was a big fan of Edgar Allen Poe’s work when I read Something Wicked This Way Comes.

Moving back to the joys of Fahrenheit 451, it seems society in general jumped in on the horrifying premise of burning books, and the irony of firemen of the future destroyed rather than saved things with fire.  Silly me locked in on that singular concept, and I assumed that since the book was written less than a decade after World War II, it served as a caveat about government thought control and book burning.

My family had much love, but very little resources when I was younger and books were an enormous part of existence, because it wasn’t too tough to hit the library or snag a cheap paperback.  So here was a book illuminating my greatest fear, building a dystopian world sans books.  Bradbury showed me just how frightening life could be in such a place.

Bradbury’s protagonist Guy Montag was very easy to relate to, he struggled with his world and how it should be, but when we first meet him, he happily goes along with the program.  After all, his job was burning books as a modern fireman.  His journey is one that really stuck with me, and so many characters I write have a little bit of the Guy tragedy in them — wanting to do the right thing yet, not really sure how to do it.  Add to that, I initially missed the primary point of his character learning by what others told him to do, prior to trying to learn/read and make his own decisions.

Of course, then there was also the great Bradbury quote always hanging in my head, “You don’t have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.”

And yet, I didn’t fully understand the lesson or the bigger warning within the tale.  It wasn’t fire or burning pages that we should fear. It is the lack of attention to another, the lack of empathy, the fear of intellect, knowledge and life experience that allowed books to fade from society.

The genius of Ray Bradbury is he saw our world today in 1953.  Book stores, newspapers are vanishing, and science and intellect is being mocked at every turn. We get lost in big screen televisions and portable devices instead of each other.  Even if the next logical step isn’t to burn them, it is scary the banned books list in communities grows exponentially each decade.

As education is at crisis level in many parts of the country, the argument seems to have fallen to what should not be read instead of the concept everything should be read.  Love or loathe a book, it is not the idea inside that will hurt you, it is ignorance that occurs by avoiding differing ideas altogether that sets us back.

But I digress.  Merely taking in a fictional adventure ride with the likes of Ray Bradbury and we need not have such concerns.  In other words, if you have not yet read Fahrenheit 451, run, don’t walk to the book store or your favorite reading device.