It wasn’t even that he was too injured to survive to get to know his son, but that even if he had survived, there was no place for his redemption in the world he had helped to create.
Here was the quintessential villain, finally responding to that glimmer of light inside him and doing the right thing … and it was too late. The lights were low, everyone was quiet and watching intently, and when Darth Vader shoved the Emperor down the space chute to save Luke and then asked that his son remove the mask so he could look at him with his own eyes, I got really upset. I was a junior in high school and was watching the movies in a pile of teenagers at my best friend’s house. I had seen the original Star Wars trilogy before high school, many times over, but I remember distinctly the first time I watched it and understood everything. I even read (most) of the books that have since been changed to non-canon! I don’t think I understood just how much it had the power to move me until I was sitting behind a table at a convention in the vendor area, and R2 just rolled into my life. Whatever the reason(s) behind it, Star Wars has consistently been one of my favorite sources of entertainment for most of my life. She fed both sides of my internal battle between action and fashion and helped baby-me reconcile that those urges don’t have to be mutually exclusive. She got to rescue her boyfriend and was as princess-y, diplomatic, and badass as I ever wanted to be. She could lead, romance, shoot, and rock a variety of killer looks. Seriously, Leia was everything I wanted to be. Maybe it’s because it was such an embedded presence in my childhood and play (we had a second-hand Death Star play set that even had the Space Hole of Falling in it, for making action figures push other action figures into “oblivion.” It could also be that Star Wars was extremely influential in my serious consideration of Space Princess as a viable career option. Part of it, I think, was that I wasn’t aware that such detailed R2s existed prior to that experience. It’s happy tears, I’m pretty sure, and it’s not been as dramatic as that first initial reaction, but it’s still there.
I’m like Pavlov’s freaking dogs for R2-D2.
In fact, ever since then, every time I see one of these R2 replicas at a convention, I feel that weird surge of emotion, and my eyes fill with tears. I got a picture with him but had a hard time stopping the tears. I lost my damn mind, started crying, and couldn’t say much besides, “R2! It’s R2! He’s here!” My friends, after they were done laughing at me, were a little bit concerned that I might have actually lost some marbles. I knew that! The person was probably right around the corner with the remote control, but … he just seemed so real! He was making the noises, moving around, and his little grabby extender bits were out. It was a remote controlled R2 unit made by someone with the 501st Legion of Star Wars fans, who concentrate on accurate cosplay and the creation of props from the movies. A couple of years ago, I had just finished setting up our Artist Alley table at a convention, and a life-size R2-D2 rolled up like he was going to make a purchase or something.
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