One Man Star Wars

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. That was nearly 30 years ago, the summer of 1977. Jimmy Carter had barely been president 6 months. The bicentennial was a year old. Disco ruled the land. Progressive bands like Yes and Genesis were still in their heyday. The early seventies had produced a new kind of American movies, movies like Chinatown, The Conversation, two Godfather movies, Apocalypse Now, Easy Rider.

And then the movie that changed everything. Star Wars. Although George Lucas was associated with the young brash directors of the seventies, directors like Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, filmmakers that were producing a different kind of vision, the decaded would be remembered by a resurgence of a science fiction film.

It's hard to even classify Star Wars as science fiction. Most science fiction deals with social issues, plausible science, and the way people react with new technology. Star Wars is not about any of that. It is an old myth told in a modern way.

Star Wars succeeded in many ways that other science fiction films hadn't. 2001 is considered a seminal science fiction film dealing with deep issues of the creation of man, and the discovery of what may be the creator of human intelligence--an alien monolith. It is much closer to science fiction than Star Wars ever was.

It was also ponderously slow, with acting quality kept to a minimum, and the awe of an alien culture, jazzed up by John Dykstra, before he applied his SF magic to Star Wars.

Star Wars was simply, a lot of fun. First, it had a great score. Many of John Williams best scores came in the 1970s. The dread of Jaws. The solemnity and magnificence of Superman. The military beats of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The musical refrain of Close Encounters. Perhaps there's no theme, however, so familiar as that of Star Wars, which itself was inspired by Holst's, The Planets.

Then, there was Darth Vader, the quintisential bad guy. He looked cool in all black with the deep baritone registers of James Earl Jones. In many ways, it has the look of the seventies. Han Solo and Luke both have longish hair. They are contrasted by the very British empire (and one guy who very much resembles Peter Sarsgard).

As a kid, who didn't want to be Luke Skywalker slinging his lightsaber, or Han Solo being the wiseass pilot with the blaster. Who didn't feel the urge to do their best Chewbacca. Who didn't think that, if they closed their eyes, and wished hard enough, the force would be with them too. Who didn't make swooshing noises and marvel at just how cool the lightsaber was?

Lucas had idea after idea in this film. Beyond John Williams music, there was Darth Vader, the Force, lightsabers, cool X-wings and Y-wings and TIE fighters. There was the Death Star. There was C-3PO and R2-D2. Although Lucas would deny that he ever thought Star Wars would be wildly successful (credit the editors, they say, with creating gold from crap), even as he negotiated merchandising, soon, the way Lucas became ultra-wealthy, to the point that it seemed market forces drove the creation of Ewoks, teddy bear like creatures that scream "I'm cute! Buy me!"

Star Wars lead to Empire, the darkest of the three, and most argue, the best of the three, with its big surprise at the end ("Luke, I am your father!") so well hidden that Mark Hamill didn't even know that Darth was daddy until the film had been made ("Why didn't you tell me?"). Empire begat the commerical Jedi. And then nothing for a long time, before 1997 rolled around, and Lucas decided to go back to the first three films in the sequence, and came out with three clunkers.

Now, let's wind to last year.

I was reading online, as I am wont to do, when I read an article about One Man Star Wars, probably in the New York Times online. I went to the website, where I read about Canadian Charlie Ross, and saw some brief segment of One Man Star Wars and One Man Lord of the Rings.

Charlie had his email address available, so I wrote him. I started of the email doubting the real Charlie Ross would write me back. True, Charlie couldn't have been too famous, but even so, a webpage is often put up on behalf of people who aren't too tech savvy, who don't read email much, or who get far too much email. And it's not exactly the best way to chat with anyone.

It's not the only time I've exchanged some email with someone "famous". I had exchaged some emails with Shane Carruth, director of the SF indie film, Primer which he allegedly made for seven thousand dollars. We exchanged maybe two, three emails, before I never much heard from him again. Again, not unexpected. It's amazing that I got email back. It helps to pick someone relatively obscure to talk to.

Charlie did reply, but it's really hard to hold a conversation in this manner. One feels like a total dweeb sending email and trying to establish some kind of rapport. So, after a few emails, there was no more as well.

Now, although Charlie had done One Man Star Wars a lot, he is from Canada, and tended to do his performances there, or big cities in the US, like New York City.

He had, as far as I knew, never come to Washington DC, where I'd have a chance to watch.

But as luck would have it, I was reading the Post, and they were talking about the inaugural Capital Fringe, and who did they feature, but one Charlie Ross, who was, wouldn't you know, scheduled to do something like 8 performances over like 6 days.

How nice! I figured I'd buy a ticket. Except, I waited until Wednesday, after the show had opened a day. What made me think such a featured performance, on a nostalgia trip that Ross was giving audience, and one that was well-reviewed would have empty seats. By Wednesday, they had sold out.

I was crushed. I had let the same mistake I made with not buying Sufjan Stevens tix when I had the chance (his performance at the 9:30 club sold out three weeks before he arrived). Who knew when Charlie Ross would come back again.

I had even sent him email last week saying I had been looking forward to meeting him. Needless to say, I didn't hear anything from him.

But I called in, hoping against hope that there might be something that could be done. They said they could put me on a waitlist, and if someone dropped out, they'd call me up. I didn't expect too much, to be honest. My chance had come and gone, and procrastination had defeated me again.

But, as serendipity would have it (I know, it's not the correct use of the word, but I like its sound), I was called yesterday. They were telling me that I could get a ticket for standing room only, and I agreed, figuring beggars couldn't be choosers. They said they had a ticket ready for me on Friday night.

Perfect. Already, on Wednesday morning, I had heard a talk by Tom Friedman, the guy who wrote a book called The World is Flat about globalization in the new era of technology. This is his best-selling book by far. Universities are making it required reading. Our CEO was kind enough to buy everyone a copy of the book. Friedman also gave an entertaining Q&A session, all the more amazing, since he had flown in from Damascus, given the heated conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.

Thursday evening, I went to the Border's in Silver Spring, where ever fourth Thursday of the month, where Joe Barber and Bill Henry discuss films with interested film fans. Apparently, they've been doing it for years, though not always at the Silver Spring site.

I had heard Joe Barber on Tony Kornheiser's show, where he'd offer his opinions of movies.

I had missed last month's get-together (I had been to two previous ones) because I miscomputed the fourth Thursday of that month. I was a week late. The month before, they were taking suggestions for films. That month's topic was about whether special effects were ruining movies. I myself had said that it was making total CG films, like those Pixar make, quite successful, and no one seemed to mind its wall to wall "special effects".

One person suggested patriotic films. I suggested minority in films, not just African Americans, but also Asian Americans, Latinos, and technically, we could have talked about films about women, films about gay/lesbian, etc. Bill didn't seem so enthused about the topic, so I honestly thought they would drop the subject and speak about something else, especially since I didn't make it last month.

However, to my surprise and relief, they did talk about it last night, and went back in history, all the way to D.W. Griffiths, and Birth of a Nation. I've never seen the film, though I know it portrays the Ku Klux Klan in a positive way. Even though Griffiths was racist, I put him as a product of his time, and still, the man did define much of modern film vocabulary. It's difficult to judge people based on standards of today, when it wasn't the prevailing thought of the day, at least, in some parts of the country.

They worked their way to modern films, or at least, until the 60s.

I began to bring up Asian American films, and I felt they missed the boat completely when they decided to talk about Asian films like those made by John Woo. John Woo is a Hong Kong filmmaker making films in Hong Kong (or he was). He is not talking about the Asian American experience at all. Indeed, the success of Asian cinema has meant there aren't likely to be many Asian American films, when one can simply get an Asian film.

On the other hand, African American films do not have the pressure of African films to compete against. Thus, they can, in principle, be about the African American experience. Now, sometimes, they aren't as in White Chicks or an action adventure with Denzel Washington. But occasionally, the issue is dealt with, such as in Glory, or Waiting to Exhale.

And let's face it, there are plenty of excellent African American actors, from Denzel to Don Cheadle, Samuel L. Jackson, Halle Berry, Whoopi Goldberg, Ving Rhames, James Earl Jones. The list is quite lengthy.

What about Asian American actors? No, Chow Yun Fat is a Hong Kong actor. So is Jackie Chan. So is Michelle Yeoh. There aren't many ones of note. There's Lucy Liu. There's Pat Morita (who passed away). There are a few other female Asian American actresses since white folks like Asian women. (Neither Gong Li nor Zhang Ziyi count). But name five good Asian American actors. Can't do it, can you?

Latino actors are a little difficult to find too. Antonio Banderas is actually from Spain. Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna are from Mexico. I suppose you can count Benicio del Toro, who is Puerto Rican, or Rita Moreno, or Freddie Prinze, Jr. or Jennifer Lopez. These are, at least, Latino/a Americans.

Even Asian American directors can barely do the Asian American experience. Spike Lee and John Singleton directed films about African Americans. When there's a successful Asian American director (depending on how you define success), they invariably end up getting jobs directing non Asians.

Though Ang Lee is not technically Asian American (born in Taiwan, he received his film degree at NYU at roughly the time Spike Lee did), he started off making films in Taiwan. Once he made English films, it was not really about Asians anymore (except Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which really was not about Asian Americans). Justin Lin went from Better Luck Tomorrow about Asian American teens gone bad to one of the Fast and Furious sequel. While he's apparently portrayed Japanese culture a little more insightfully than one might expect, he's no longer doing Asian American film.

Indeed, the most successful of Asian American directors is M. Night Shymalan, whose never done a film about Indian Americans. There's no Bend It Like Beckham in his repetoire. All his mainstream films have not had one Indian in it (although I should actually watch his films first, before jumping to conclusions).

Anyway, that was a total distraction. I had dinner with Joe and Bill and a few other regulars at nearby Austin Grill, after Bill invited me. He said it was rare for them to invite anyone else, so I suppose I should feel special (I sorta do!). Who knew they were such baseball buffs (Joe was wearing a Nats cap).

I took the Metro in this evening to the Wooly Mammoth, the new location of a theater that has apparently been around some 25 years. The place looks nice. The main theater was pretty tiny. I can't imagine it holds more than about 150-200 people, tops.

The first thing that surprised me about the performance was how few aids he used to do the performance. He has a mike that is attached over his head/ear, much like Madonna used, so he could amplify his voice.

He didn't have any other sound effects or music other than his voice.

He dances a fine line between making the trilogy funny and trying to be faithful to it. Indeed, much of the humor can be mined just by being fairly faithful to the film, especially just amping up Luke's whining.

Charlie's best voice is Luke himself. He does a fine enough Vader and even Leia. Much of the success of the impersonation comes from body language more than dead-on accuracy. His worst voice, by far, is Yoda's, which is strange, given that Yoda should be a voice that's easily impersonated.

Charlie has to come up with all sorts of bodily cues to get across meaning, from jutting his arms backwards to represent Y-Wing fighters, to pulling his cheeks down to do Nien Numb, the mousy co-pilot, to flapping his arms to imitate Jabba's mouth.

I suppose I was surprised that he did more crotch grabbing than a Michael Jackson retrospective. Crotch grabbing was his short-hand for Han. He used small things like "schwing" to great effect, putting into words what people must have wondered about (once they got to a certain age that is).

The performance is fairly physical, and by the third act, when he wa doing Jedi, he was apparently sweating a storm, and mentioned this to the audience. Occasionally, he broke form and started to laugh because of the audience reaction.

I was a little surprised at how big Ross is. I mean his stature. He seems about 6'2" and 190 pounds. He was dressed in a black jumpsuit of some sort.

I had wondered what he'd have to do after the performance, presumably at least towel off, if not shower.

Now, sometimes after the performance, the actors come out and mingle. I wasn't sure whether that Charlie would actually do that, or what I'd say to him if he did. So I hung out a fair bit afterward. However, the crowds had pretty much left after five or so minutes. I got a beer, and hung out some, eventually working my way upstairs.

Now, as it turns out, Charlie Ross did come out after all, but he wasn't really out there to meet the public. He did seem to know some people there, one guy, and two women, and talked to them while drinking a beer. I had wondered, should I go and talk? I mean, despite having watched him for a little over an hour, he didn't quite look like him out of costume.

He seemed, from what I could tell, like a down-to-earth guy (he's Canadian, what do you expect? Eh?). I felt like a bit of a stalker. Hi, Charlie Ross, I'm a Charlie too! I sent you email last year! That was making me feel like such a tool. So instead, I simply sat at a nearby stool, sipping my beer, deciding whether I should take the advice Charlie gave at the end (an odd thing, which felt very much like a PSA--public service ad) where he said people should chase their dreams, work hard, and, oh yes, get a lawyer.

My smaller goals was simply to say hi and talk, but it felt like interupting too much. Eventually, he and his buddies left, presumably to do something late at night, or return to a hotel room, or some such, and so my opportunity to say hi went down the tubes (much like the Internet, I might add).

So, Charlie Ross, I don't expect you'll read this, but in case you do, I wasn't really, really stalking! Not really. Well maybe just a little.

The performance, I have to say, was hilarious. I was thinking what other kinds of movies could he do. Star Wars has many great aspects about it that makes it ripe for making fun of. First, people are passionate about the series, and have watched it a gazillion times. There's a lot of nostalgia watching it.

Second, you realize, my goodness, Luke is such a whiner. How did I miss that? Probably because I was a kid when I watched the movie again and again, so that even recent viewings make you think about the way you saw it as a kid. When Charlie does his Luke, it verges on mockery while still remaining pretty faithful to Mark Hamill's acting.

And really, you had to give credit to Charlie for coming up with incredibly clever shorthand to represent space ships. His physical imitation of ATATs from both Empire and Jedi are too funny for words, and because I (and many others) are so familiar with every last detail, Charlie can use a shorthand to get across an idea (the explosion the the ATATs, which have to make them the unsafest, most inefficient people mover ever--once it collapses, explosions ensue--they are the Ford Pinto of the Star Wars universe).

Maybe I'll work up the nerve to say hi to Charlie next time he rolls in town, should the opportunity even arrive. In the meanwhile, good job!