1. The Star Wars worship
2. Star wars, rival of worship

The hysterics caused in the States by the coming out of the Phantom Menace can only but challenge a remotely rational mind (and all the more when he is not a fan of Star Wars!). This is how, after the exponential increase of Internet sites being created on the subject, the inflation of forums, chats, news of all kinds, one could see as soon as November 1998 people pay a full cinema ticket simply to watch the trailer of the first of the Sequels, others queue up for weeks in advance in front of cinemas which showed the Menace, or even better decide to camp right there.
Toy shops opened at midnight to be the first to offer Star Wars "collectibles" and got a good dose of people and money. Finally, companies which had purchased the production license for gadgets, have certainly not lost their investment: from Pepsi cans to the regrettably ugly Jar-Jar of Pizza Hut, there was a crowd of fanatics to fight over these hideous items. An American author who was looking with a cold eye at these excesses recently compared the Star Warsí fansí ardor to that of the muslims at the Mecca, the Hindus on the river Ganges, the Jews in front of the Jerusalem wall. Right away, this means creating a link with religion, and turning the film into a form of worship. Which it is, definitely. It remains to know why and how.

I. The Star Wars worship

If so many people over-invest in Star Wars, itís because the films responds to their confused expectations: need for supernatural, change of scenery, sensations, emotions, statement of simple (simplistic?) values, and also for the certainty of the final victory of good over evil... Because it responds to these aspirations, the whole Saga is like entertainment, in a classic sense (and previously religious): it diverts from the everyday life. A routine which is not always black, far from it - but grey, dull, and desperately empty. Or simply perceived as such.
In a virulent article, David Walsh denounces precisely the "mass-scale structure of evasion" which the Phantom Menace is in his view1. Just like Titanic, the film harbours peopleís illusions, alienates them to fiction, detaches them from reality - meaning it's the new opium of the people: "a stupid and empty show" harmful even, insofar as it is in his view a perfect expression of the consumerís society. Carried away by his enthusiasm and his convictions, the author nevertheless seems to mix up the cause and the consequence. Fiction does not detach itself from reality, it simply replaces it because, for some people, it is more consistent. It indeed fills up an empty space: the one caused by the rout of ideologies and traditional values. It's not the cause of it. It simply reveals the acuteness of the phenomenon. And it shows it in sometimes worrying forms.
Thus, how can you not underline the nearly compulsive dimension of some fans' behaviours? The photographs presented here only give a vague (and sad) idea of it: but on the Web there are lots of expressions, from "starwarscoholic" fans, mesmerised by their internet screen (starwars.com, fan sites.com etc), stuck to their video (from the original tape to the special edition), fighting over vital space with their intrusive "collectibles" for which they have ruined themselves, or nearly. Now merchandising does only but encourage and reinforce such "profitable" behaviours. All kinds of gadgets inundate the market: they tend to acquire the status of relics, both remains of the past and objects of substitution which extend the efficiency of the film. Like the film, they make you dream. But at the same time, they create a desire, an insatisfaction: where, when, how to get the missing object, the latest piece of the series, the "exclusive" poster? This now gives a meaning or rather, an orientation to life: to consume. And in the most ordinary way, the one who fled the everyday routine in an obscure room, dreamt of epic and personal accomplishment, admired the Jedis' rigour and abnegation, while flaring up for the precepts of sage Yoda, finally tramples on in an endless queue, a shopping cart full of celluloid figurines, a 500 dollar cheque in his hand. What a paradox!

Was this George Lucas' project? One can at least credit him with honest intentions. Which David Walsh (already mentioned) refuses to do. On the contrary he considers Star Wars as a conscious entreprise of alienation, which subjugates the individual to the consumerís society. Nicolas Renaud also refuses to do so, in a vitriolic article which denounces the paradoxes of the producer's work2. Or more critical even, like Jon Katz's essay called "Lucas latest Star Wars' movie: more Yoda soda than saga"3 - a nearly lampoonist essay. For my part, I'm wondering. And I hesitate between the enthusiastic fan's wonderful gullibility or the definitely critical attitude of someone who does not like to be manipulated. But can we without naivety ignore the ambiguities of George Lucas's position on the subject? When questioned about the excesses brought about by the film, the producer recently referred the "hyperfans" to ´"a real life". "Get a life", he said during an interview. A most profitable piece of advice, we hope it will be heard - But in the meantime, merchandising, to which the producer lent himself (or sold himself, some would say) should not try to convince us that life and happiness are only just in the possession of aluminium cans, or hideous celluloid figurines, even if they are stamped with LucasFilm Ltd and TM.

Was this George Lucas' project? One can at least credit him with honest intentions. Which David Walsh (already mentioned) refuses to do. On the contrary he considers Star Wars as a conscious entreprise of alienation, which subjugates the individual to the consumerís society. Nicolas Renaud also refuses to do so, in a vitriolic article which denounces the paradoxes of the producer's work. Or more critical even, like Jon Katz's essay called "Lucas latest Star Wars' movie: more Yoda soda than saga - a nearly lampoonist essay. For my part, I'm wondering. And I hesitate between the enthusiastic fan's wonderful gullibility or the definitely critical attitude of someone who does not like to be manipulated. But can we without naivety ignore the ambiguities of George Lucas's position on the subject? When questioned about the excesses brought about by the film, the producer recently referred the "hyperfans" to ´"a real life". "Get a life", he said during an interview. A most profitable piece of advice, we hope it will be heard - But in the meantime, merchandising, to which the producer lent himself (or sold himself, some would say) should not try to convince us that life and happiness are only just in the possession of aluminium cans, or hideous celluloid figurines, even if they are stamped with LucasFilm Ltd and TM.

 

II.Star Wars, the rival of worship

A couple of years ago, two students (Luke and Mortimer) became famous for demonstrating in front of a cinema where Star Wars was shown. Carrying streamers and distributing pamphlets, they hailed the passers-by and potential spectators: "Star Wars, or your soul?" "The Force is the devil" or even "Jesus is the Force", stressing their demonstration with psalms and songs, one of which explicitly accused G. Lucas of being Jewish (!). The demonstration nearly went wrong, since Star Wars fans set on the demonstrators.

A little later, an Internet site was created, to extend the two Faith heroes' initiative: it was rapidly flown under a mass of correspondence, sometimes from believers, sometimes from Star Wars partisans.

		©http://www.ooze.com/ooze10/html/ooze_strikes_back.html

The polemic came to an end when the two protagonists admitted that they had simply played a hoax, and that they intended to prove that fanaticism is not always where you expect it. The fact that this manifestation of doubtful taste found such an echo, speaks volumes, not about Star Wars or its contents, but about its perception, and therefore, again, about those who watch it.
Firstly, one word about the demonstration: despite the provocative and extreme nature of the slogans, it does not surprise the strollers to excess, in a country which broadcasts preaches (and preachers), while it spreads the Christian fundamentalist trends. The "Christian majority" sometimes expresses itself in a radical way, and the alleged Brothers Luke and Mortimer don't denote too much when they take the role of convinced believers, show kitsch T-shirts, or pious images next to which the sulpician style is looked on as great art.

Then, reactions on the Internet: the provocation skilfully orchestrated by the two friends was aimed principally at fan clubs, chats and news. They hit the target! The reaction was unanimous, and it shifted quickly from a polemic to insults -sometimes refined, often well informed. A typical e-mail response is a comment on Lucas' work, as opposed to the Apocalypse by Luke and Mortimer. The Trilogy has indeed become a Bible for some fans; they master it like theologists the Scriptures. Nevertheless, the defence of the "religious" content remains exceptional.
In my opinion, the surprise was in the reaction of the Christians, catholic or Protestants, who tried to reason the two inquisitors: measured words, refusal to use verbal violence, invitation to a deepening of faith, and above all tolerance. There are one or two obvious supports to this enterprise, but generally the believers who write disagree with the demonstrators. It remains that they took such a gross (in all meanings of the term) hoax seriously -and that the problematic did not appear so improbable to them! My God!
Let's conclude: Luke and Mortimer meant to expose fanaticism, and accessorily to show the alienating omnipotence of money, while in their views Star Wars continued to be the very example of a dollar-making machine. There is art, and there is the manner, and this caricatural one, seems close to blasphemy to me. It was anyway a fantastic publicity stunt for Ooze magazine - and therefore, precisely, a way to make money! Oh, beloved paradox!