Wednesday, May 23, 2007

May 25, 1977


On a clear, beautiful spring Saturday in 1977, my whole family took the train from our home in Scarsdale to New York City to see what my father promised, “was a very special film”. It had to be. Why would we all go to the City to see a movie? We had heard rumblings about this film on the news, (a cover story in Time magazine was circulating around the house the previous week), but that was it. Nobody knew this movie was coming or how special it was going to be. This was, after all, years before the Internet and the advent of the multi-million dollar movie marketing campaigns, so awareness of this movie, especially for us kids, was small. In fact none of us (Maria and my brother Dan) was even anxious to see it, but our Mom and Dad assured us this was going to be a special event and that we needed to see it on a big screen (this was also years before the big MoviePlex theaters were common and the City was the only place one could see a film on a big screen!). So, it was safe to say that by the time we all jumped into a cab at Grand Central Station and headed to the Ziegfeld Theater on west 54th street for the matinee showing, that none of us knew what we were going to experience. We sat in the beautiful and spacious Ziegfeld Theater, with a few hundred other people that afternoon, and for the next two hours we were utterly and literally transported to another world. The movie awed us, it delighted us...and yes, hyperbolic though it might seem to say so, it changed us. For Maria, and myself it was a childhood altering seminal event, an experience that brought us closer together and one we would remember fondly for years to come.

The Movie, and the event, was of course the opening weekend of George Lucas masterpiece Star Wars (which opened 30 years ago today). We all know the story. A grand tale of heroes and villains, in an old-fashioned fairy tail saga about dangerous, exotic lands, amidst an evil kingdom with a despotic ruler (and one of the greatest villains in motion picture history to boot) all opposed by a rollicking collection of buccaneers, including a pirate who was one of the good guys, a damsel “princess” in distress and of course a young hero who reverberated all the recognizable human notions and virtues that young kids identified with: honor, courage, the love of freedom - and of course in the end –faith. All the while watching the movie we felt as though we were apart of something joyous, a celebration of not only the art of cinema but also the unbridled joy of believing in the stars and the simple yet grand celebration of good triumphing over evil.


But it was more then a “kids” film to us. The whole experience seemed deeper, as if this movie was speaking to us directly in a non-patronizing but at the same time grandiose way. We were, after all, children of the 70’s and we were even at our young age acutely aware of the prevailing cynicism in our culture. But then came Star Wars, a movie that truly spoke to us, in a simple, positive and life affirming way. And that was in many ways the secret to why we loved the film. We couldn’t believe it was made for “US”. That adults would conceive such a story on an epic scale, with state of the art special effects, and a John Williams score that seemed to be made for a much bigger and more important film (for adults). No, this entire enterprise was for us, and the experience was ours and ours to keep and share with not just our siblings but for all our friends as well.

But for Maria and I, it was an experience that truly brought us closer together, better then any other event of our childhood. When the lights came on in the theater, soon after our newly anointed heroes received their medals (Maria always thought it was unfair that Chewbacca didn’t receive one) I truly saw Maria in a different light. Maria was 10 when we saw Star Wars that afternoon in the big city, on that big screen at the Ziegfield. By then she had already read countless books that dealt with the similar morality play that was at the heart of Star Wars. Maria was a ferocious reader of all subjects but the genre of fantasy was her favorite. She had read, to this point, Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Lewis Caroll’s Alice in Wonderland and all of L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of OZ books (to name a few). So this genre and world of fantasy was not a new one for her to experience. But Star Wars was different for her and I, and our relationship in a couple of ways.



One, Star Wars for Maria didn’t just reaffirm her love and passions of fantasy, but the movie made the genre seem legitimate more mainstream, in a way other books and movies couldn’t. For Maria, her books were a pleasurable escape that she shared with herself and in most cases only by herself. Star Wars brought all the quality of the fantasy genre on a stage that made it easier for everyone to appreciate and this allotted her to engage with others with a mutual respect for the subject she loved. Thus, for the first time she could share her passions with others. It was as if Star Wars removed a certain stigma that was associated with these tales and with it came a certain kind of badge of honor to say you loved Star Wars no matter who you were.

Second, for me personally, Star Wars made me finally “get it” about Maria. I was 9 when we saw the movie together and while young, I never gave much thought to why my sister always read so many books. After seeing Star Wars and talking about every detail of the movie on the way home on the train that spring day 30 years ago, I finally “got it” why Maria love to read. It allowed her to dream of places she had never been and to discover worlds and people that never have existed. It all encouraged me to read these books that were so close to her heart and to share these experience for myself. She would tell me “If you loved watching Star Wars you should read Charlie and the Chocolate factory" (I read it that summer). Which brings a great irony to this story about a movie. Star Wars, through the eyes of my sister, made me want to read books! In many ways it still does today.

Today I work in midtown, three blocks from the Zieglfeld, and everyday I walk by the old theater and not a day goes by that I don’t remember that spring day 30 years ago. It has been persevered in time and it reminds me that there was a place in my childhood when the purity of innocence existed on a movie screen, and this simple, but elegantly crafted fable still resonates with magic, magic I shared with my sister that spring day. Because it was so innocent, in a way no film can ever be so innocent for me again, the images of that film and the memory of seeing it for the very first time with my sister sitting safely next to me has been forever placed deep in my heart and conscience. It was a day Maria and I both feel in love with the stars, and it was something we shared the rest of our lives.

-Bob Salazar
5/25/07