A few days ago, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi turned 40 years old. Believe it or not, there’s a relatively large percentage of the population that actually keeps track of stuff like that. I’m one of them, and for someone like me, who is not just a very big fan of the galaxy far, far away, but also one of the most nostalgic people you’ll ever come across, this milestone is more than just a date in pop culture history, it marks the very first time I ever saw a movie in the theater.

My dad introduced me to Star Wars with the first movie, which back then was simply titled ‘Star Wars’ (George Lucas would rename it Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope for the 1981 re-release). I must have been about 4 years old when he first showed me a Star Wars movie because it was 1980 when the second movie, ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ came out. But by that time Kenner’s magic had taken over my toy box. There wasn’t a kid alive that didn’t clamor for at least a handful of the 3.75” action figure representations of these quirky and diverse characters. And for many 80s kids, it was actually the toys that served as their introduction to Star Wars, rather than the movies.

Humanoid heroes, armor and helmets, droids and aliens, blasters and laser swords, there was something for every kid in these movies. And along with my dad’s love for the films and interest in sharing them with us, I had a couple of very fortunate cousins that literally had every toy in the line. One of which was older, so I had access to some stuff that I’d missed since the first movie came out just one year after I was born, in 1977. And those visits to their house did nothing but cement my need to immerse myself in that world for as long as possible.

So, when Return of the Jedi came out in 1983 my dad knew what he had to do. He wasn’t the most pop culture-savvy guy, but he liked Star Wars enough, and probably saw the opportunity to finally share the movie-going experience with his two sons as a win, win. But there was always a caveat with my dad, and he was big on teaching moments. So that day the whole family went to Circuit City or Venture or Sears (I can’t remember which) to get some new, large appliance, and he stressed as long as we were good, he’d take us to go see Return of the Jedi.

Are you kidding? I was ready to be the world’s first 8-year-old to ever wear a suit and tie while shopping for a dishwasher. In fact, I would have gladly washed the dishes in the Fox River down the street from our house for a year just to be able to go see a Star Wars movie in a theater. The game was afoot! And as you guessed, not only was I on my best behavior, but I kept my little 4-year-old brother in check too, and I’m pretty sure I even held the door for everyone as we all exited the store, like some giddy little concierge.

And that’s where my memory of seeing Return of the Jedi for the first time, and my very first movie-going experience ends. Most likely because since then I’ve probably seen the movie, in all its forms, at least 3 times a year (along with the other two original trilogy flicks) over the past 40 years. So, something in the ballpark of 120 times? Give or take? But one thing I’ll never forget is the feeling of absolute and pure excitement and gratitude for that whole day.

For a diehard, sweaty Star Wars fan like me, you really can’t get enough of the franchise. There’s a comfort and familiarity that surrounds you and flows through you when it comes to the original three movies. They never get old, and I almost always see new things or have new thoughts about them when I rewatch them. It truly is some kind of magical mind trick.

As for the movie, ROTJ often gets kicked to the bottom of the original trilogy in ranking them. Not in a bad way, but just because most people value or like the other two that much more. And yeah, sometimes people use the Ewoks to label Jedi as silly, but I’ll take as many Ewoks as you can throw at me. It’s hard to not say that the first Star Wars movie is the best, it’s pretty flawless, and logic would dictate that it’s “the most Star Wars thing anyone has ever seen” (as folks like to say about every new Star Wars thing that comes out) because it was the first Star Wars thing anyone ever saw. It’s an Oscar-nominated movie, including Best Picture and Best Supporting Actor for Sir Alec Guinness. And well deserved. But then there are those that say the second movie is the best for its grim and gritty feel, the battle of Hoth, the introduction of Yoda, the reveal of Vader being Luke’s dad, and the cliffhanger with Han. And it truly is a perfect movie if you ask me. But Return of the Jedi is the most satisfying of the bunch.

Jedi opens with the cleanest, shiniest, and most imposing Vader that we’ve seen to this point. And even though he heralds the Emperor’s arrival, HE is the boss. And as we learn in the end, Palpatine is almost as feeble as he looks. From there the movie wastes no time in getting into Han’s fate, but it does an amazing job at creating the setting, expanding on Luke’s home of Tatooine, and introducing yet another two dozen brand new characters including the moistest villain in history, Jabba the Hutt. And the fact that this immobile, morbidly obese, giant literal slug is labeled a “gangster” by the galaxy is still something that blows my mind.

The time spent in Jabba’s Palace might be my favorite in all of Star Wars, and the fact that the charge is led by C3PO and R2D2 being thrown to the wolves is hilarious and fitting. It capitalizes on the idea of untamed diversity established in the first movie by raising the bar on weirdness. And it does it with no apologies. Something George Lucas will always own in my mind is the ability to envision. He created a world that houses an embodiment for every social circumstance known to man and made those embodiments characters that just made sense where they were sitting. Every time I watch the Jabba scenes, I see some new character in the background that I never noticed before, that could pass as one of the grizzled weirdos that live on my street just as much as some alien species I never could have dreamed up. There’s so much to take in in the first act and I haven’t even mentioned Lando and Leia’s amazing costumes, the happiest reunion between Han and Chewie, or the “death” of my favorite character, Boba Fett.

But something that I’ve never heard anyone remark on is that ROTJ is the first time we see Luke Skywalker finally as a Jedi Knight, and when we do, he doesn’t dramatically pull out his laser sword and start floating, he pulls a gun on the most feared gangster in the galaxy. After training for two movies, learning of his family history, being told he was too old, watching his first teacher die and his second teacher, the most powerful Jedi of all time, turn out to only come up to his knee cap and introduce himself by playing tricks on him, and being maimed and nearly killed by his own father, he pulls a gun? How maclunkying awesome! No one in Jabbas palace questions this guy claiming to be a Jedi Knight like his father before him for pulling out a gun. No one stops to think about where his lightsaber is, and that includes the audience. This is one of the most amazing Jedi mind tricks of all time, and we all spent decades just excited to see it when it pops out of R2’s head. Not thinking about the tactical thought and boldness that went into that move by Luke, and the story telling slight-of-hand mastery by George Lucas and Lawrence Kasdan.

Acts two and three of the movie introduce us to the Ewoks (who without, this movie wouldn’t have half the heart it has), it gives us one of the most beautifully modeled actual “star wars” in all of Star Wars led by the biggest scoundrel in the galaxy in General Lando Calrissian, and shares with us two of the most heartfelt and sincere moments in the entire Star Wars franchise: the death of Yoda, and the death of Anakin Skywalker.

Sure, to many today Yoda is a meme or a T-Shirt, or possibly a family member of the biggest pop culture phenomenon of the last decade. But Yoda’s relevance is never-ending. So much so that his line in the often-maligned Episode VIII: The Last Jedi “Luke, we are what they grow beyond. That is the true burden of all masters.” should give new meaning to every person that has ever tried to teach another. In ROTJ, Yoda is able to simultaneously solidify himself as the guy that knows everything you’ll never know, and also become this sympathetic and helpless creature you can’t help but want to comfort as he struggles to tug his little blanket over his shoulder before he passes away. It’s genius characterization that if not for Kenobi in the next scene, would have out cliffhangered Empire and Stallone combined!

But for me, what gets me the most every time I watch this movie is the untangling of Vader from the Emperor through the most harrowing battle in all of cinema. The duel between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader is deadly and valiant and says so much about each character as it goes on. It’s almost like a conversation between two people that desperately want the other to see their perspective, but with neither even considering budging on what they feel the past has made them become in the present. Both characters think they aren’t capable of change within themselves but insist that the other is absolutely capable of change. But in the end, Vader is able to break free from what he has spent the majority of his life being, and Luke is able to forgive his father for what he was.

Now, something I’ve gone back and forth on as to where to mention it throughout this little essay is the score by John Williams. I’m not reinventing the wheel by even saying that it’s flawless. We all know that, but a John Williams score in just about any movie is the most important part, even in the greatest shot, most inspiringly directed, or well-acted movies. Because even with all those important attributes in place, a Williams score is the Force that surrounds and flows through them, be it Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, ET, Home Alone, JAWS, Harry Potter, Schindler’s List, Hook, Superman, or… The Cowboys. None would be what they are without him.

But in Star Wars, Williams’ score does something extra special. From the very first movie, he gave each character their own theme. A bonus layer of flavor that lights up and elevates the main character in each scene. And in the final battle between Luke and Vader, the music almost becomes The Force, like a set of stunt wires carrying the characters through the events in the most organic and fluid and perfect way, until they reach wherever it is they need to go.

Return of the Jedi is awesome! And after spending the last couple of hours writing this with the worst version of the movie on in the background (no thank you Disney), I’m going to say that this is my favorite Star Wars movie of all time… but Hoth is so damn cool!

AC