L
IKE SUNDAY MASS, THE CROWD GATHERS IN THE LOBBY OF THE CONVENTION CENTER AS THEY WAIT FOR THE CHURCH DOORS TO OPEN.”
how “women can’t survive in space,” referring to Rey, the protagonist of The Force Awakens. And then there are the accusations that Rey is a “Mary Sue,” an overpowered character who is too perfect, too capable. It’s disheartening when you consider that these fans worship the same franchise that gave birth to Princess Leia, a character who was revolutionary at a time when many of her sci-fi contemporaries were still oversexualized damsels. Of course the late, great Carrie Fisher faced her own challenges from these fans, the same ones who perhaps also took part in body shaming the older General Leia in The Force Awakens. “Please stop debating about whether or not I aged well,” was her perfect retort on Twitter. “Unfortunately, it hurts all three of my feelings. My body hasn’t aged as well as I have. Blow us.” Fisher’s advice to Daisy Ridley upon being cast as Rey in The Force Awakens echoed the older actresses’ attitude toward Princess Leia’s status as a sex symbol: “You should fight for your outfit,” she told
Hip Hop Trooper is a nerd convention mainstay, usually blasting music on his signature red boombox.
52 DEN OF GEEK ■ SAN DIEGO COMIC-CON
Ridley during a Q&A for Interview magazine, specifically referencing her Slave Leia costume from Return of the Jedi. “Don’t be a slave like I was.” Fisher never saw that infamous metal bikini as something to be sexualized. To Fisher that costume and the scenes it pertains to symbolize both a literal and metaphorical breaking of the chains of misogyny. She was practical about those who criticized the costume as a bad influence on little girls. When confronted by the disapproval of parents, Fisher told The Wall Street Journal, “Tell them that a giant slug captured me and forced me to wear that stupid outfit, and then I killed him because I didn’t like it. And then I took it off. Backstage.” In the last three years, Star Wars films have certainly become more inclusive of women. The Last Jedi, for example, boasts at least five female characters: Rey, Leia, Captain Phasma, Rose (played by Kelly Marie Tran), and Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo, a high-ranking Resistance officer portrayed by Academy Award-winning actress Laura Dern. Better yet, a woman now pilots the Millennium Falcon, arguably the most well-known spaceship in all of science fiction. It’s comforting to know that the films are starting to live up to the promise of its more diverse Expanded Universe of TV series, books, comics, and video games. For years, the EU has featured great female characters, such as Mara Jade, Jaina Solo, Asajj Ventress, and Ahsoka Tano, and in recent years has pushed for the inclusion of more LGBTQ characters as well. Of course, the introduction of LGBTQ characters has also been met with criticism from the more conservative corners of the fandom. When Star Wars: Aftermath author Chuck Wendig introduced a former Imperial Officer (and therefore a white man) named Sinjir Rath Velus in Star Wars: Aftermath, it struck a particular nerve. While Sinjir isn’t the first gay character in Star Wars canon—that honor goes to Imperial officer Moff Delian Mors, a lesbian, who first appeared in the novel Lords of the Sith by Paul S. K`emp—he is currently the franchise’s most prominent. Wendig came to the defense of Sinjir and LGBTQ fans in an uncharacteristically direct and confrontational manner with a blog post after the release of Aftermath in 2015. “And if you’re upset because I put gay characters and a gay protagonist in the book, I got nothing for you,” Wendig wrote. “You’re not the Rebel Alliance. You’re not the good guys. You’re the fucking Empire, man. You’re the shitty, oppressive, totalitarian Empire. If
you can imagine a world where Luke Skywalker would be irritated that there were gay people around him, you completely missed the point of Star Wars.” The outrage surrounding Aftermath was nothing compared to what followed a year later, only days before the release of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. A group of fans rushed to Twitter, determined to boycott the new movie. #DumpStarWars was born in response to a pair of tweets posted by screenwriters Chris Weitz and Gary Whitta in which they asserted that the films were anti-white supremacist. “Please note that the Empire is a white supremacist (human) organization,” wrote Weitz. Gary Whitta’s reply: “Opposed by a multi-cultural group led by brave women.” Many took this to mean that the film was anti-Donald Trump. While Star Wars’ anti-fascist, anti-xenophobic message has always been clear to some—including Lucas, who used Nazi imagery and language to inform the Empire’s units—there’s a group of people that gleaned a completely different message from Star Wars. #DumpStarWars wasn’t even the first time a group of fans have threatened to #BoycottStarWars. In 2015, Twitter trolls urged people to boycott The Force Awakens because of a black actor’s prominence in the film. According to The Guardian, one troll even claimed that actor John Boyega’s casting in the film was promoting “white genocide.” At one point, even the Chinese promotional poster for The Force Awakens came under scrutiny after it allegedly minimized Boyega’s role to appeal to the country’s audience. “I’m in the movie, what are you going to do about it?” Boyega told V magazine in response to the blatantly racist remarks. “You either enjoy it or you don’t. I’m not saying get used to the future... [it] is already happening. People of color and women are increasingly being shown onscreen. For things to be whitewashed just doesn’t make sense.” As you meet members of the fan community, you’ll find the majority are glad that the franchise represents more than one group of people. There’s a solidarity in the crowd at Celebration Orlando. These fans are just happy to be with other people who love what they love. Star Wars is no longer “The Great White Void,” as actor Raymond St. Jacques put it in a letter to the LA Times in July 1977. For those who have missed the entire point of Star Wars, there must be a growing fear that time has passed them by, that their complaints will someday be completely forgotten. No opening crawl will tell their story.