Fandoms fascinate me. Whovians, Trekkies, X-Philes, Twihards, Cumberbitches, Whedonites. Fandoms of shows, films, and characters so ubiquitous its imagery land on a Taco Bell cup. I have never been a part of a fandom with that sort of universal appeal.
But, Kill Bill turned my world upside down. Back in 2004, when I came across the DVD in the trunk of my older brother’s car, I needed to obsess over it with someone else IRL. He was indifferent about the film, so no luck there. My friends were still rom-com devotees. Thanks to school assemblies littered with Lifetime movie worthy internet creep anecdotes, online message boards were off limits. You can find Tolkenites and Potterheads out in the wild, Kill Bill truthers not so much.
With the release of Star Wars: The Force Awakens inching towards us, I’m looking to fangirl with a squad. An established thirty-eight year old squad supported by a universe of action figures, animated series, video games, t-shirts, Death Star grills and… my pockets are empty.
I have a single Star Wars film under my belt and that’s Episode IV: A New Hope. I could throw out excuses on how I’ve managed to miss out on a cultural juggernaut, but I won’t. Marketing works. I too want to be a part of a fandom. I too want to experience the mythology that brings tears to the eyes of stone-faced middle-aged men.
So over the next few days, I’m going to revisit Episode IV and embark on a 13-hour plus journey into that galaxy far, far away. And yep, I have been briefed on The Order in which I must consume the films. I am ready. May the force be with me! Too eager…I know.