A LOT WENT down in 1999. Neo learned kung fu. Some campers met a witch in the woods. Tyler Durden took his shirt off. A shark tried to cook LL Cool J in an oven. But through all the hype and excitement, one thing reverberated loudest of all. The return of Star Wars.
George Lucas could have bought his own planet (Georgonosis?) with his riches from the original trilogy and retired in peace. Instead, he poured his soul into three new films, flipping the formula so that they started with triumph (well, Gungans having a party) and ended with tears, death and a politician smirking. The movies caused a few tears themselves, some fans left feeling bereft by their digital sheen, the baroque supporting characters, the dialogue about sand.
Undeniably, the films are flawed. But after rocking pop culture on first impact, they’ve only grown in power. A whole new generation has embraced them, an ever-expanding batch of Star Wars projects have been inspired by them, a billion internet memes have been spawned, and their strengths, from the blistering duels to the prescient politics, have aged as gracefully as Yoda.