George Lucas has a lot on his mind. An entire universe, in fact.
The man who birthed the Star Wars galaxy looks dazed as he ambles into my office. As of this writing, shooting has just wrapped in Australia on Episode 2, and the 16-hour days show on the director's face. His eyes droop. He wears a flannel shirt and faded jeans that may still carry bits of the Australian desert in their folds. I know I'm stepping out of my professional interviewer suit here, but as this man sits before me, I am in awe. Q: Mr. Lucas, I don't think there's an American under 40 who's life hasn't been influenced by Star Wars. Your vision of this fantastic, alien universe, and the struggle of these few, noble people against an overwhelming evil, this rich, wonderful world of technology and magic and monsters-
A: -Do you have a question?
Q: Um, okay, I... you're about to go into post-production on Episode 2. What can you possibly do to top the incredible effects work in
The Phantom Menace, which had more than 2,000 CGI visuals? Are you ready to break new ground once again?
Lucas fishes a cigarette from his shirt pocket, and ignites it with an engraved Zippo lighter. He stands and wanders around the room, mumbling... A: Oh, you know... we'll have the....the rocket ships and... mmmnnuuuhhhhmmm....
Q: I... okay. Moving on to the next question... How do you feel about criticism from fans over the somewhat juvenile tone of the last film, parts of it playing like a children's movie? Even the battle scenes featured robots and lovable aliens, rather than humans, in combat...
A: Oh, make no mistake, Peter. Many, many men died in
Menace. Especially when that huge space station blew at the end. Thousands. Listen closely and you can hear their screams as their bodies are shredded like stew meat. If you zoom in on the blast, you'll see little chunks of them flying at the camera, including the severed head of a little girl, still screaming for her mother in the cold, hellish vaccuum of space. Oh, there was blood like a river. And it was delicious.
Q: Ahem. Yes. I suppose you did have that at the end, but for the bulk of the film you have to admit it did seem aimed toward a younger demographic...
A: Yes. It's much like a trap, you see. I lure them in with the cute creatures and bright colors. Here, little girl. Look at the funny alien with his floppy ears! Look at the cute little boy in his rocket car! Then BAM!! Look at the charred bodies! LOOK AT THEM! LOOK AT THE BLACK CARNIVAL OF HORROR YOU WERE BORN INTO!!! You can stop crying now, little girl. For today, you have become a man.
Q: Soooooo..... um, following that track, I have heard other critics say the opposite, that your films feature too much clean, casual killing. I personally think that's an empty criticism. It's logical that if you're making films about an interstellar war, you must show the unfortunate results in terms of lost lives and...
A: Not really. I just get a pure, almost sexual thrill from depicting death. Death and I are old lovers. We shall meet again some day, in an eternal embrace. Soon.
He pauses to take a long drag off his cigarette. Oh, if only I had died in the womb.
A: Okay. Mr. Lucas, I must admit I'm surprised by your... Mr. Lucas?
Lucas slowly lies down on the carpet of my office, curling into a fetal position. He closes his eyes. Q: Mr. Lucas?
A: Nap time!
Q: Uhhh.... so, do you want to end the interview?
Lucas springs to his feet, suddenly alert. He flicks ashes onto my desk. A: I want you to understand something. You don't own me. And I am not taking any more guff from you.
Q: I'm......sorry. I guess. Well, getting back to the films. We know now that Jar Jar Binks will be back for Episode 2. Not all viewers found Jar Jar to be-
A: -my films are a weapon. You understand? A weapon against the audience. Jar Jar was like a dagger; a honed, jagged blade plunged into your eye. Oh, and I have plenty more where that came from. Meesa gonna make-uh you wisha you were-ah DEAD!
Another pause. A layer of sweat coated my face. Q: I, uh, want to make it clear to the readers that you're under a lot of stress with the schedule you keep-
A: Let's make this interesting. You use another preposition, and I will make you drink pain. Got it?
Q: I....I don't think-
A: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Q: Oh. Ha ha ha ha ha!
A: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!
Q: Ha ha ha! Just having a little fun here, right?
A: HA HA HA HA HO HO HO!!!
Q: Now, after the-
Lucas jams his cigarette into my cheek with a piercing hiss. Q: AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
A: What did I tell you? WHAT DID I TELL YOU?
I looked at him, my hand clasped to my singed cheek. Tears streamed down my eyes. Q: You... you're crazy!!
A: Your questions would drive anyone insane. You've insaned me!
Q: What?
A: Look at those questions. Do it!
I glanced down at my notes. Q: There's nothing wrong with-
A: They seem to be covered in urine.
Q: What? No!! Mr. Lucas!!!
George Lucas climbed onto my desk, unzipping his fly. I jumped from my chair, barely missing the five-minute long stream of urine that splashed over the papers, my chair, and a good portion of the carpet.
Relieved, Lucas zipped up and casually strode to the door. A: Tell anyone you want about this. No one will believe you. If you try to follow me, you'll be as dead as Alec Guinness.
And with that, he was gone. I looked at the door for a long time after he left, still trembling. I faintly heard the outside door close; a moment later, a woman on the sidewalk shrieked in horror. A dog barked. A moment later it yelped in pain, and was silent.
I sighed and glanced back at my urine-stinking office, one thought echoing through my mind like a drumbeat:
The man is a genius. ------------------------------
Courtesy of
PointlessWasteOfTime.com.
