My son, 13 years old, told me a few weeks ago that the last thing Star Wars is, dad, in a television series, titled The Mandalorian, which is issued in the united States and that will not reach Spain until march. The main character is the bounty hunter of the galactic of the planet Mandalor, a cold and hard which apparently is characterized by not taking off the helmet throughout the season. Accompanying a sympathetic Yoda baptized child Baby Yoda, this is, a baby Yoda or a puppy of the kind of the yodas, I don't know very well to describe that, that already has become world-famous and anyone can expect a fruitful future transformed into a stuffed animal.
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My son and I decided not to hack the series –I don't know if we would have been able to-, and to wait until the premiere. That day, that yes, it will take something really serious for which we don't see together in the tele that first chapter. What we will do as we have been watching together, him, my daughter and I –in the cinema, on video or on tv - all the movies of Star Wars, all the prequels and all sequels, some frankly bad.
do Not be afraid. I am not of those adults with the shelves filled with models of space ships nor do I like disfrazarme of warrior imperial on my birthday. To my children either. The story goes on the other side and begins on a Saturday in the autumn of 1977. That day, my father bought, for him, for my aunt and for my mother, three entries of the last session in the Real Cinema of Madrid –now closed, with great possibilities of being transformed into a luxury hotel - to see The war of the galaxies (so called), which had just premiered in Spain. Already by the evening, my mother said that he wanted to see that stuff and martian, to take advantage of the entry, my father asked me if I wanted to go I, that, with 10 years, he was the oldest of my brothers. I replied, happy, that, yes, of course.
We sat in the first row: my father had not got better entries, which in the background was a lucky. I, that was the first time he came out of night, was already sufficiently excited by the simple fact of being there, at that hour, in that film immense crowded audience. But then he turned off the light, descorrió the curtain –then there was a curtain on the screen of the cinema- , rang a lash of trumpets that I imantó in the chair, and you got those yellow letters that were slipping away and dwarfed by telling a story of something rare of wars between planets to make way after a silent sky starry night and a destroyer space traversing it diagonally, and that in our first row passed over our heads.
Two hours later I struggled to recognize where he was. Hypnotized, drunk on excitement, I got in the car my father, where he and my aunt were speaking –incomprehensibly - of the other thing. Upon arriving home, I needed to wake up my brother, two years younger and that she slept in my room, to tell him the entire movie. I would swear that it took me exactly two hours to do.
that's why, when my children were 10 or 12 years, wore them to see Star Wars. As I said Jaime Gil de Biedma, we have the whole life to read In search of Lost Time but very few years to read The Mysterious Island, or The tigers of Mompracem. And that is the reason to show it.
Also, we should not fool ourselves. Because when I sit in front of the tv to watch the damn episode I-The Mandalorian believe for a moment that that is what I want, but I know that I am wrong. Every time I've sat on all these years to see a Star Wars film what I was looking for, in reality, it was a certain autumn evening in that the Real Cinema was still a film and not a building died; what I was looking for, I guess, is to go back to having 10 years and there is a fleeting moment, when you hear the trumpets and the letters appear yellow, that I think I get it. What I want is that my father take me again to a premiere, that my mother is still here to give me your input.Updated Date: 03 January 2020, 06:00