True story: when I first asked my son Charlie if he wanted to watch Star Wars – a spot of father-and-son bonding, which I’d long been looking forward – he looked aghast at the idea: “No, Daddy. There’s a dead-eyed monster in it.” Mystified by this reaction, I investigated further. Turned out he’d misheard a school friend referring to a “Jedi master”.
I left it a while until he was six, had seen clips of Ewoks on speeder bikes (what’s not to love?) and felt suitably reassured about the lack of dead-eyed monsters. One autumnal Sunday afternoon, we finally snuggled up on the sofa to watch Episode IV: A New Hope. Or Star Wars, as it used to be known. The prequels, with their mullets and ponderous interplanetary politics, could wait.
From the opening crawl, he was transfixed. Looking through a child’s eyes, I marvelled at the cinematic magic all over again – that first gasp of awe as the Imperial Star Destroyer filled the screen. Giggling at R2-D2 and C-3PO’s sitcom bickering. Remembering how scary Darth Vader seemed, how Han and Chewie were super cool and Luke was heroic – not boring or bratty, as the more cynical adult me had come to suspect.
Two hours later, Charlie was totally hooked and I was sucked back in too. It took willpower and persuasion not to immediately move on to The Empire Strikes Back. Delayed gratification is good. Besides, we probably needed some fresh air. Yet it was the start of an enduring obsession for Charlie.
He’s now eight and even more into Star Wars than I was – OK, still am. He’d soon watched and rewatched the other films on DVD. Despite my leanings, he adores the prequels, even Jar Jar Binks. He’s lapped up the TV spin-offs, devoured the novelisations and watched endless YouTube compilations – before, inevitably, falling down the online rabbit hole of bloopers and fan theories.
He’s also Lego-mad, meaning his two passions combine in a perfect storm of plastic space bricks, which I regularly step on in bare feet. Cue sweary Wookiee noises. Charlie’s forever building battle scenes or souped-up starfighters, but on the rare occasions nowadays when he needs help – fixing the folding wings on to Krennic’s Imperial Shuttle was the last time – it whisks me right back to being his age. Just add a beaker of banana Nesquik for the full Proustian rush.
Star Wars provides the perfect excuse for precious one-on-one time. Charlie’s inherited my old figures and it makes my heart soar when I see him playing with them. We play board games, Top Trumps and trivia quizzes. We’re even known to have lightsaber fights in the local park. I’m always the baddie, obviously.
For his recent birthday party – no prizes for guessing the theme – we made Wookiee cookies, marshmallow stormtroopers and Jabba the Hummus (well, we do live in north London). We played Pin the Ear on Yoda and Pass the Thermal Detonator. I was particularly proud of the game where we froze a Han Solo figure in a block of “carbonite” (dyed ice) and had to shoot him out with “blasters” (water pistols filled with warm water). Charlie’s fervour for the Force has spread to his friends – even the ones who don’t sleep under a Darth Vader duvet.
It’s not just an “us” thing. He’s also watched the films with his friends, cousins, uncles, granny and godfather. A beauty of Star Wars is how it truly unites the generations. A gang of us seeing the latest instalment together has already become a festive tradition, starting two years ago with The Force Awakens – the first chapter in the saga that Charlie and I discovered together. Tumbling out of the cinema and excitedly discussing it all the way home was sheer dadhood delight.
Excitement levels are currently hyperspace-high for The Last Jedi, which is this year’s pre-Christmas treat. We’ve dissected the trailers together, bought our tickets and discussed Charlie’s snack preferences. Although he’s warned me that he’ll cry if any harm comes to Chewie.
Passing on my love of the Force has been a privilege and a joy. And now Charlie is passing it on to his pals too. Some fathers and sons bond over football, fishing, cars or music. For us, it’s been the battle between good and evil in a galaxy far, far away. It’s a 40-year journey for me, and a two-year one for my son, but now we’re on it together. As Vader says: “I am your father.”
Star Wars: The Last Jedi is released on 14 December – click here to buy your tickets
Star Wars: The Last Jedi is ©2017 & ™ Lucasfilm LTD
