It has been a month, one long and trying month in which my patience has been stretched to new limits. The force awakens was released a whole month ago and as of yet I am still to see it. To put my pain, my anguish, my unrelenting need to see this movie into context, it can only be described as crawling naked through Tauntaun innards and Bantha shit. And so for a whole month I have been crawling, afraid to lift my head from the filth for fear of the worst thing imaginable… Spoilers.
Spoilers are the very things that haunt not only my dreams but my every waking hour. It’s like I’ve been living the last month in the little seen yet wonderful horror movie of 2015 “It Follows” in which a teenage girl is subject to being relentlessly hunted by an unstoppable spirit after she engages in illicit sexual activities with a shady young man. To my knowledge and my wife’s relief, I don’t believe I have partaken in any such activities, so to be subject to such horrors is downright uncool.
Back in December my wife was fortunate enough to see the movie with a friend whilst she was visiting San Diego. She braved the El Nino weather, crossing puddles up to a foot wide and avoiding stray leaves in the mild breeze, I just can’t imagine what she went through to see the movie a day after its release, the mind boggles. Some say envy isn’t a good look, however I wear it so well and it des so compliment my cold heart. It’s hard not to be envious of my wife, it may be one of the deadly sins, but as Captain Malcolm Reynolds once said “I’m a fan of all seven,”
Taking a while to search my feelings, I know it’s my wife I shouldn’t be having these negative feelings towards, it’s someone else altogether. In the last month I have engaged in excited conversations with people who have seen the movie, pleading with them in the process not to ruin any details for me. When I discover a truth most disturbing. They have never seen the originals! It’s a disturbance in the force I haven’t felt since my wife ate the last bite of our wedding cake. These betrayals stay with you forever. To be reminiscing about my fondest memories of the Millennium Falcon, for them to respond with “I’ve never really been one for birds,” does something to you inside, it’s the kind of negativity I do not need in my life. Possibly the worst thing though is when they give their verdict on the movie itself, with a phrase of lazy mediocrity “It’s alright.” Of all the words in the English language, I’m fed a line devoid of any human emotion. It has of course crossed my mind that the movie may not live up to my grand expectations, in which case I plan to hunt J J Abrams down like Inigo Montoya “You ruined Star Wars, prepare to die.” The very thought of a bad Star Wars movie is inconceivable.
A little over a year ago, I had sat my wife down during our daughters afternoon nap, telling her to prepare for the first of a six part magical experience. Episode I: The Phantom Menace. I had approached the Star Wars topic with optimism and also a fair amount of apprehension. This was a huge part of my life that I was about to share with her, I was excited, yet at the same time I feared the worst, this could be the end of our marriage. Was she going to be the Amy to my Sheldon or the Penny to my Leonard. It’s safe to say the results were positive and with cries of Ee Che Wa Maa we proceeded to watch the rest of the Saga over the coming days. Even our daughter has recently come to learn the true power of the force. Although she is still a little short to be a Stormtrooper, she’s already demonstrating their infamous inaccuracy with a blaster when she gets a hold of our Nerf guns. There are times I sense much fear in her training.
To watch my wife go through the emotional rollercoaster was like watching the whole franchise for the first time through her eyes, cementing my love for the galaxy far, far away even more. If that wasn’t perfect enough, as soon as the credits rolled for Return Of The Jedi, the teaser trailer for Episode VII was online. The countdown had begun. Each new trailer was met with a child like shriek and let it be said, tears were shed.
If my wife’s new found love for Star Wars wasn’t already at a peak, then the arrival of merchandise within Disney stores would send it into overdrive. To say I am a frugal man would be a grave understatement, an understatement akin to fanboys not being too fond of Jar Jar Binks, Adolf Hitler not being too fond of Jews, or Donald Trump being a monumental Douche Bag. So with my wife’s new found love of Star Wars and her obsession with Disney that borderlines what some might call a fetish, alarm bells were beginning to ring. Despite feeling like a child alone in a sweet shop, my lower body was so tense with apprehension at the thought of my wife’s purchases, that without my thigh gap I fear any step I took could have ignited a small bush fire.
As much as I love something, spending money has never come easy. I have the kind of mind that sees the cost of a Cinema Ticket and immediately my brain hits the hyperdrive. £10 for admission? if I go an see a movie every month for the next twelve years, that will amount to £1440! My finances just aren’t ready for that kind of investment.
During conversations with my wife, she brings up the need for me to go and see the movie, a look of desperation in her eyes. She tells me she has numerous questions that need answering and that I need to attend a showing asap. I joke about going into hiding for the next four months or so, then using my savings wisely and purchasing the film on wonderful Blu-ray so I can enjoy it over and over again. This idea is met with furious objection, not only will my wife cease to remain tight lipped, social media has also become an increasingly volatile minefield to navigate. I have never seen a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. In the early days of release, I was pleasantly surprised to find the courtesy and restraint shown by the many who went to see the movie. However, the number of people still to see such a delight has dwindled to the few, and so the respect once shown is fading and fading fast. Hovering too long over a Facebook post or clicking on the wrong link has become a game of Russian Roulette. One false move and it’s over. The spoilers have got me. They hide in plain sight, an innocent GIF her, a luring Meme there.
And hence I continue to crawl, keeping my head down as I pass through the tunnel of shame. With a risky glance forward I see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, I am finally coming to an end of my month long spell in purgatory. I can smell the sweet odour of Starship fuel. I can hear the whirring of lightsabers cutting the air. I can feel it. I get to my feet, the end is in touching distance. I can feel the awakening, the dark side and the holy… grandson of Darth Vader? wait, no, this cant be happening, the spoilers have got me. Noooo!…