Warning: There will be spoilers for The Force Awakens in this piece.
“Star Wars” has always been a saga about families. About fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, and the people we choose to add to our families. These themes always resonated with me the strongest growing up as a “Star Wars” fan. Anakin/Darth Vader was always my favorite character and watching him through the eyes of Luke in the classic trilogy was one of necessity. I had a rough childhood, to say the least. An abusive father kept me living in fear of his irrational reactions to everything and the only thing through my youth that gave me hope was the redemption of Anakin Skywalker at the end of “Return of the Jedi.” That’s partially why “Jedi” is my favorite film in the saga when I’m cornered enough into having to pick one favorite instead of six. Or maybe seven, now, I guess.
Because of its focus on families and redemption, “Star Wars” resonated with me on a level virtually no other movie did.
As a kid, “Star Wars” tapped into my hope that bad people, particularly my father, could one day become good. Though I never found that resolution in my own life, “Star Wars” became important in me processing and understanding that. The relationship of good son and terrible father is one I identified with so heavily, that “Star Wars” quite naturally became much more important to me than religion or mythology. It was my mythology.
As I’ve aged and had children, I felt acutely the anxiety of worrying that I myself would turn to Darth Vader. The scene of Luke’s in the cave on Dagobah where he sees his face in Darth Vader’s mask meant more and more to me as I got older, worried that this is somehow how I would end up treating my children. We are the product of our parents aren’t we? I was terrified that perhaps I had that evil innately in myself, just as Luke saw in his own vision.
For a long time, it felt inherently possible. Even inevitable. But now my children are old enough that I don’t quite have that concern as often anymore. It’s still there, digging into the back of my brain once in a while, but it’s not as bad as it was when they were babies as new as Luke and Leia in “Revenge of the Sith.”
But “The Force Awakens” tapped into another aspect of that fear in a way I didn’t expect.
I didn’t know Kylo Ren would really be Ben Solo. How could I have? And to watch the disappointment and love simultaneously on Han’s face when he realizes exactly what his son has become and what he’s done…? There’s heartbreak there. And it carries those themes of worry and dread forward that make it even easier and more relevant for me to identify with as I’ve gotten older. That’s not to say I’m worried in a genuine sense that Anakin or Scout might actually turn evil, but there’s a constant worry that what if I’m not doing enough to make them the good people I know they can be?
This is why “Star Wars” resonates with so many and me in particular.
As I said, it’s a story of families. Of fathers and their sons, mothers and daughters. And, like the cave on Dagobah, it reflects back what we take with us and lets us gaze into that black mirror and see what is inside us, good, bad, and indifferent.
This is why I love “Star Wars.”
As long as the new filmmakers continue tapping into the stories and themes and emotions that are universal to the human condition in the context of a galaxy far, far away, these movies will continue to be relevant for as long as “The Odyssey” has been. These movies have helped me learn and reflect on my situation with my father and helped me navigate my life. It helped me choose a path of light like Luke Skywalker. And now, with this new trilogy, I think it will help give my children a blueprint to reflect on how they might avoid turning into a Kylo Ren.
And for that, I’ll be forever grateful. And, perhaps, so will humanity.