Six years ago, we were all excited. I worked in a newsroom back then, and everyone gathered around one of the sports guy's computers to watch the trailer to Episode I: The Phantom Menace. Condensed down to two minutes or so, it looked like it was going to be a pretty good flick. Some friends of mine camped out for tickets, and we all got a chance to see the first new Star Wars movie in about 16 years on the first day.

Everyone in the theater was excited. People cheered different things. The Lucas Film logo. The repeats of Jawa and Sand People sounds. And, of course, the eventual triumph of Obi Wan against Darth Maul. Soon after, we all were hoping his character would be cloned back to life for the second film.

But for all the hoopla and hysteria, it was a horribly bloated and frustrating film. It was a children's film (except for the cutting in half of the villain). And, after thoroughly dissecting it, we wondered why half of it was in there.

Yesterday, I went to the Star Wars toy section of Wal-Mart. The new figures for Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith came out a few weeks ago. I figured I'd take a gander at the selection. They didn't have the figure of the cool new villain (a half machine, half human with Jedi-like powers), but they had a new Chewbacca figure. I picked that one up.

I've watched the original trilogy over a hundred times. I've watched the new ones less (around 10 times a piece). What I've noticed during this intense independent study is the characters who don't speak in any discernible language (and are not translated with subtitles) seem smarter than everyone else.

You may know my R2-D2 theory already: R2-D2 is the physical presence of God in the Star Wars universe. You can't understand him (only his "butler" C3-PO can--although other computers can pick up his train of thought from time to time). He has a preternatural ability to save the day--even when no one else seems to know what's going to happen. And, usually, he gets blown all to hell, only to be resurrected in the last reel. He's also the only character who is present and knows the story from start to finish. Omniscient, if not completely all powerful. C3-PO conveniently forgets things, but R2-D2 just won't give up the cards he's holding. He even fights with Yoda.

Chewbacca, who only communicates in growls, barks and moans, is the soul of the universe. He is, strangely, the representative black man in the series. Wookies are an enslaved race. They are thought, obviously, to be less than human (although they work on and fly spaceships pretty well). Their physically strength is superior to most humans, even if they aren't so good at chess. It is only the truly hip who understand the Wookies.

I've read too much about Episode III. If we all didn't know what was going to happen (Anakin becomes Darth Vader), I might think I was "spoiled." But I'm not. I'm hoping, much like when Episode II came out, that it'll be better than the last one. So maybe--possibly--Lucas is able to make one "good" movie in this set of prequels. Hopefully he hasn't fucked it all up.

In a month or so, we'll all know. Why should I care about this? It's been many years since I've been in complete thrall of these stories. But maybe, since there are still many parts of my personality which resemble children or at least a younger man than myself, I fell I must have a bit of closure about this mess.

What is most fascinating about this series of movies and paraphernalia is how apart the filmmaker and fans are. Lucas seems to think, rethink and over think everything, getting himself turned around in the process. He seems to believe the first trilogy is flawed because of the level of technology available at the time. But it's really about the story, isn't it? A disaffected teen who is taken from a very small world into the universe at large. With the help of his rag-tag (aren't they all?) team of friends, he is able to change both the universe and himself. Who cares if there are cartoon animals running around in each frame? These things don't matter too much, and serve to distract more than anything else.

Lucas seems bogged down in details these days. Like we really care about the particulars of how Anakin and Amidala fall in love (who, incidentally, are the worst-matched pair in movie history-- "I just slaughtered a bunch of women and children, let's get married!"). Or what the Force is made of. Or the way in which Jedi move around in their order. Or even the subtleties between the "dark side" and Jedi. We just want to see the two sides fight--not maneuver around and bicker with each other.

We want to see the struggle. The physical slog. More action, less talk. And if this last film is actually the film everyone wants to see, why did we have to sit through the last two? Couldn't he have made three movies we all wanted to see instead of being such a tease?

This isn't some kind of Zen thing with you, is it George?

Matt Worley is working on his patience this year. Sometimes he falls off the wagon.