More Ewoks, Please

A couple of badasses

My husband was nostalgic for his first trip to the theater, seeing Star Wars Return of The Jedi. He said, "I really want to take Kiki to see the new Star Wars because it will be like when my dad took me, but she'll get scared and freak out."
He took her to watch The Good Dinosaur, and Kiki flipped out after the dinosaur was swept away by a river, separated from his family, and she cried, clawing her way up his body to perch on top of his head, and wouldn't stop screaming till they left the theater.
I told him the height of visual effects when he saw Return of the Jedi at four years old was foul mouthed muppets holding super soakers, and maybe thats why he handled it so well.
Not to be deterred in his effort to gain insight into a four year old's mind as they watch Star Wars for the first time, he put on Star Wars Return of The Jedi tonight while we ate dinner.
I haven't seen the movie since I was a kid. I'm pretty sure it made my guts queasy, and my parents probably turned my back to the screen so I wouldn't barf on the coffee table as they all cheered on the grotesque monster types while they shot each other.
The movie starts out right where I want to exit stage right because Jaba The Hut is the opening act. I tried to eat my deliciously prepared take-out while watching the giant turd slobber all over himself. It reminded me of eating lunch in the break room with my friend Pam whose love of Animal Planet had no bounds; watching a chimpanzee pick at it's hair, then parade its butthole around, quickly made my burrito go from delightful to dookie.
While Jaba's people jammed on clarinets and danced around, Kiki worried about the woman with the black tail who Jaba pulls into an underground dungeon where she is eaten (this is learned through a loud growling noise, and not actually shown.) I side whispered, "This is a terrible idea."
Kiki jumped around screaming, "Where is the woman with the black tail?"
She must have heard me refer to Jaba as The Turd Monster because she asked a follow up question, "Did The Turd Monster eat her?"
I comforted her, at this point she was cradled in my arms, and said, "No. No. No. She just went for a walk."
Had Princess Leia not shown up, and Kiki felt relief from a woman's presence, in a bikini for added reassurance, then she might have insisted we throw the TV in the garage and set fire to it.
When Lando Calrissian was almost eaten by the gigantic sand vagina, she started crying, and I said, "Enough is enough."
"She will be okay. Look at me, I saw this at four years old, and I turned out fine." He said.
"Well, you don't want my opinion on that."
Surprisingly the lack of graphics did not ease her frantic mind. When C-3PO and the beeping Oscar the Grouch robot, flew off the side of the convertible space ship, she reacted as if they fell into an active volcano.
George was busy playing with his toys on the floor, and he seemed unfazed by the film. I put him to bed and came back to the living room where they were watching Princess Leia give an Ewok a cracker, or some futuristic space cake. Oh, how I loved the Ewoks! They are so cute and cuddly, reminding me of my childhood best friend, Mr. Bear.
I told this to people last week, "I don't really remember Star Wars from my childhood, but I watched Ewoks: The Battle for Endor like a thousand times."
They both shook their heads, lamenting on what a travesty that film was. I think they said, "That was the beginning of the end, a made for TV movie with the Ewoks! Shameless."
"I don't know about that. It was such a nice story, aside from the curly haired girl learning her family members die from blinking lights on her bracelet, but how fabulous was that fast little rabbit thing who ate biscuits like crazy!"
Their opinion didn't change.
I put Kiki to bed an hour ago, but I'm expecting to hear her running feet any moment. Her dramatics were in fine form tonight as she was getting drowsy and whining, "Don't leave after I fall asleep. It's so sad when I wake up alone." I reminded her that I have shit to do, like write a blog and catch up on RHOBH.
If were going to give Star Wars another go, I think we better try it during the day rather than bedtime. Even though 1983 graphics aren't as spectacular, they're just as frightening. Putting prosthetic lumps all over actual humans, rather than a blue-screen-Gollum-looking-monster, who seems more animated than real life, makes the bridge from reality to fake much shorter. Thank goodness for the Ewoks, comforting young children that scare easily and adults with queasy stomachs.