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Coping with Star Wars anticipation holds lessons for everyday expectations[part two in a series of five articles celebrating the Star Wars prequel]
By Steve Lansingh
As I write this, I'm less than 12 hours away from seeing what's been called the most anticipated movie ever, "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace." I've heard it called so both as an accolade and an insult, as a testament to the legions of Star Wars fans and as a prediction of how badly they will be disappointed. I've tried hard this past year to keep myself from over-anticipating this movie -- but at the same time I've let myself get giddy about its arrival. In the process, I think I've learned something about the role that anticipation plays in our lives.
More than half of our life is spent waiting, I'd guess. As a kid I remember waiting to be old enough to understand what the adults were talking about, smart enough to make my own decisions, big enough to beat up my older brother. Not to mention the daily things like not being able to wait for recess, not wanting to wait for my mom at the supermarket, not wanting to wait for the next issue of Spider-Man. As a teen I couldn't wait to start driving, to fit in with my friends, to get a good idea for a novel. In college I couldn't wait to get out of the dorms, to find a career path, to fall in love. For me, and I'd guess for most people, life is lived with one eye on the present, enjoying life where it's at, and one eye on the future, hoping for something better. Perhaps what we call a mid-life crisis is triggered by the realization that the limitless future we're used to seeing before us is no longer so limitless. There is more behind us than in front of us. There is much less to anticipate. And perhaps one reason Americans are so quick to shove aside their elderly is because the elderly have little left to live in anticipation of-- a sobering judgment to a culture that values a person's potential as much as his or her present state.
It seems to me, then, that the way we deal with anticipation has a great deal to do with how our character takes shape, who we will be. Take falling in love, for instance. Most people in our culture enter the dating scene in anticipation of that special someone out there who is their perfect match. They have a choice of how to approach dating, then: One is to imagine what this match will be like -- how they'll look, what they'll do for fun, how outgoing or introverted they'll be, etc. I'd call this over-anticipation. A better approach is simply to imagine what total acceptance from another person will be like and try to nurture that in their relationships -- to believe that love is real and live in hope that it will happen to them, instead of basing their belief in love on whether or not it lives up to their anticipation. (Incidentally, this question is the central issue of the TV show "Ally McBeal," in which the main character strays back and forth between these two reactions.)
Another example, which closely parallels a belief in love, is a belief in God. When looking for God, many people begin in anticipation of the mighty things that God can do and his wondrous love. They over-anticipate; they build up in their mind an idea of who God is. Then when they encounter a God who works most often in the quiet stillness and who allows innocents to suffer, they reject him; they say God does not exist. Instead we should simply believe that God is real and live in hope that he will reveal himself to us and work in us. Then our anticipation can be an asset rather than a hindrance. Jesus himself faced a problem of over-anticipation; the Hebrews were expecting a great military leader instead of a humble teacher, rejecting him when he didn't fit their lofty ideals. They'd already decided what a Messiah should be like. They didn't look for the possibilities.
The best analogy for anticipation I can think of is that of a blank piece of paper. Whenever a poet or writer stares at a piece of paper (or a painter at a blank canvas, or a sculptor at a slab of stone), the feeling is both exhilarating and frightening. It's exhilarating because all the possibilities are open to the artist at that point, but frightening because there can be only one finished product out of all those possibilities, invariably something less than the artist hopes for. As we stare at the blank pages of our lives waiting to be written, we are often both giddy with anticipation about where the journey might go, but also afraid that the story might go nowhere -- or nowhere good. Unlike the artist, who can start over, we have only one book to fill, and there is no going back to edit. The knowledge that we have only one chance to "get it right" can lead us to set very lofty expectations of our future, to over-anticipate what is to come. A sweeter approach is to know that our story will be unique among everyone's. We can imagine the many ways that we might fall in love, that we might meet that special someone -- then suddenly it happens, and it is our story forever. Out of all the possibilities, we have our own creation that belongs to no one else.
Anticipation can be very sweet if it's kept in check. Getting there is indeed half the fun. I've enjoyed myself tremendously over the past six months as I've learned about the different characters, read interviews with the cast, heard Lucas' creative vision, and downloaded the TV commercials. This has been a six-month journey for me, not just a two-hour event. It has been energizing and nerve-sharpening. Returning to the marriage theme, I'm reminded of the scene in "The Firm" when Jeanne Tripplehorn says to Tom Cruise that she's always loved him, because "even before there was you there was the promise of you." I've enjoyed letting the events unfold and having my questions answered: Will I have to camp out to get tickets? Will tickets cost more than for a normal movie? Should I dress up as a character for opening night or not? I've loved waiting to see how destiny is shaped.
In the end, "The Phantom Menace" is a fairly safe thing to live in anticipation of. Unlike marriage or career goals, this event is fairly certain to take place, and the outcome is not as crucial. But the experience has taught me so much. My enthusiasm for learning about the history of fictional characters made me realize how little I knew about the history of God's people, and I've started to read the whole Bible all the way through this year for the first time in my life. My desire to approach this film as a child has helped me understand how Jesus wants us to approach him as a child, how the gospel is written for children. And most of all, I have learned to stop trying to write my own story, to figure out where this website and my work at The Bible League are taking me. I have learned to reexamine the unique shape God's giving my life, to trust the Artist's vision, and see that my life is wonderful in its own way, not just the way I want it to be.
Learning these insights has helped me keep my anticipation for "The Phantom Menace" at a controlled level. For starters, I recognized that "Star Wars" is George Lucas' creation and no one else's. I have tried not to build up too many ideas or expectations of what the film will be like, because I know that Lucas must answer to his own artistry and not to fan expectation. I have already heard criticisms levied at the film for being too "kid-friendly," for being mundane, and for telling too many stories. Part of me indeed worries that Lucas has lost his edge after abandoning directing for 20 years; I was saddened that Lucas made Han Solo more likable in the special edition of "Star Wars" by making Greedo shoot at Solo first (and missing from three feet away?) before Solo killed him. But ultimately, it's George Lucas' universe. Rather than rejecting his new chapter because it doesn't seem to fit, I should instead reexamine the shape he's giving it and see it as a new entity. (After all, both "The Empire Strikes Back" and "Return of the Jedi" cast completely different light on previous installments.) And I should remember that Lucas didn't create the movies for me, specifically, but for kids, which I happened to be when the first trilogy was out. I need to watch this movie as through a child's eyes.