I love Star Wars. Love, love, love, love, love Star Wars. Comparatively, I may not be viewed as quite so dedicated to the franchise as some of the Jedi Knights and male Princess Leias I’ve seen walking around Comic Con. But I can still recite every line from the original series; I own a decent amount of graphic t-shirts and other merchandise, and religiously maintain a healthy hatred for one particular, floppy-eared, orange-skinned character—who shall remain nameless.
With that said, it should come as no surprise that I am super pumped for the upcoming seventh installment in the franchise! I, along with my Star Wars brethren, was spinning in circles in my swivel chair when Han and Chewie appeared on screen for the trailer. Boy oh boy, was that epic!
The Force Awakens truly looks like a masterpiece waiting to be placed onto the silver screen (and it better be, or it will be a dark day in Hollywood. Look! There! Crossing over the hills! What's this I see? Why, ‘tis none other than a soldiery of heavyset Skywalkers, six-foot Yodas, and hairy, bearded, cinnamon-bun-haired fellows in gold bikinis! Tauntauns and Wampas and Banthas, oh my! With plastic Lightsabers of all sizes and colors raised high in the air, they cry a fearsome cry, and then take a puff from their inhalers before crying again! For Abrams have they come! For justice do they chant! Down upon the streets of gold they march, their ire shining like the sister suns of Tatooine. Their call is clear and in perfect iambic pentameter: "We march for justice, true and pure! Bring out the scruffy nerf herder!" Approach they now with sabers drawn, to face all those who’ve done them wrong. But to the ground, a Jedi falls; so too an actor ‘gainst the wall. First blood’s been drawn by parties both. The fight’s begun; it has in troth. But how were they, the lifeless two, sent to their deaths? Pray tell, by whom? A clue in hazy sky doth speak—gunfire’s echo, fading and weak. But as with Han and Greedo goes, who fired first? We’ll never know).
Anyway, as I was saying before I was so happily and Shakespearianly interrupted, The Force Awakens has some seriously high standards to live up to. And it was during a conversation on this very point (a conversation featuring the same friend with whom I shared the Cinnamon Raisin discussion, detailed in the May 23rd blog post of the same name) that the prospect of another Star Wars film arose.
On the day of that conversation, my friend told me that he thought he’d heard somewhere that a friend of his who knew a guy that used to work with the sister of a woman that once roomed with a man who adored cats and had a nephew in the fast food business who overheard a guy who owned a comic book store two blocks away from the fast food restaurant talking on the phone with a noisy person who said something about going on a date with a one-legged fish farmer who once delivered fresh salmon to a grocery store where they heard an employee talking about how a friend of theirs who claimed to know George Lucas’s niece’s dog sitter mentioned something about an upcoming Boba Fett movie.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Please, someone, make him stop talking? No, George Lucas doesn’t own Star Wars anymore. Disney does. But that doesn’t change the fact that a Boba Fett movie would be a great idea—potentially.
But Boba Fett died, didn’t he? C’mon! Died? In this day and age, no one ever really dies in movies! Characters always find a way to come back from the dead! I’m sure that if superhero movies can get away with it, Hollywood can find some way of bringing Boba back to life…or maybe I can.
Buckle up, folks, for this is my idea for a Boba Fett teaser trailer, should the character ever make a cinema comeback.
So, the last time we saw señor Fett, he was tumbling into the waiting mouth of the Sarlacc, after having all his BA status ripped from him by a blind and bumbling Han Solo. Very cheap way to go, if you ask me—but alas, away he went.
From what we know of the Sarlacc from C-3PO’s explanation, one is slowly digested over the course of one thousand years, thus giving Boba more than enough time to consciously plan an escape from the pit.
Our trailer opens in the Tatooine desert. The wreckage from Jabba’s fleet is still scattered about, although most has become overrun with sand, as many days have past since the daring rescue and escape planned by the very elaborate-minded Skywalker & Company.
The camera pans over the barren landscape. Only wisps of sand and a few lonely Banthas in the distance can be seen. Just then, a magnificent shriek of monstrous agony cuts through the silent scene, and into frame falls the gigantic, bloody, severed tongue of the digitally remastered Sarlacc. Still panning, the camera soon reaches the pit, and there we see a horribly beaten Boba Fett crawling out from within the depths of his tomb.
His armor is melting from the digestive acid in which he’s been bathing for days. Even parts of his skin have begun to decay.
Covered in all sorts of fluid, Fett frantically fights against his weak and afflicted body to remove his armor, screaming in immeasurable pain as he does so, until he has removed every shred of clothing and collapses facedown into the sand, naked as a newborn.
But luck is on his side, for to his exposed and baking skin approaches the very tools he requires to survive: a pair of Sand People. Having heard his desperate and painful cries, two witless Sand People (or is it Sand Persons?) march single file toward the wounded Fett, both unaware of the bad boy bounty hunter lurking within the naked creature before them.
A swift kick is sent into Fett’s side by the sandy foot of one of the Sand People—his last mistake. We then see one of Fett’s eyes pop open, and instantly a cavalcade of shaky cam shots erupt over the screen, as Fett leaps to his feet and proves to all the world that even while wounded and in the buff, he can still kick butt better than most anyone, ever. Tell me again how Han managed to kill him?
Anyway, the next shot is of a twilight desert and a figure draped in Sand People clothes, limping along the dunes.
“There are some things worse than death,” says a raspy voiceover, as the twilight shot fades to black.
“I’ve been there,” continues the voice, as a quick shot of the hooded, faceless figure sitting beside a campfire fades in and then out on the screen.
“He made me who I am.” A flashback shot of Fett being briefed by Darth Vader on a Star Destroyer and then flying off after the Millennium Falcon flashes on screen.
“He gave me purpose.” Another flashback, this time we see Fett stepping beside Vader in the dining room at Cloud City. A close-up, slo-mo shot falls on Fett’s face (err, helmet), and then another on a bemused and betrayed Han Solo. Gentle music, soft and low, plays in the background.
“He was mine.” Flashback again. This time we see Han Solo in carbonite being loaded onto Fett’s ship.
“And I was his.” A quick shot of Fett nodding, Solo's carbonite face, and then fade to black.
While in black, the voice says, “How quickly are we cast aside.”
A final flashback appears on screen—a collection of quick shots of Boba Fett getting his jetpack smashed by Han Solo, sailing off into the side of Jabba’s ship, and then falling into the Sarlacc’s waiting mouth.
The Sarlacc’s jaws then slam shut with an echoing slam; and onto the screen, along with some ominous music, emerge the words, “This summer.”
We then see the hooded figure from before, limping through a desert village.
“Everyone’s favorite bounty hunter…”
The figure lurks some more, now in a grassier arena.
“Is back for revenge…”
To a white, wooden door the figure steps.
“Against the very man who tried to eliminate him.”
The figure kicks in the door, lurks inside a billion-dollar home all trimmed with the finest of gadgets, gizmos, and Star Wars memorabilia, and then rounds a corner into a study, where sits the one and only George Lucas, composing his newest screenplay, Jar Jar Binks: The Movie. Misa Back!
Pulling back his hood, Boba Fett reveals his face to the Star Wars creator, draws a sidearm, and points it at him.
Gripped with amazement and fear, Lucas, in his signature, refined acting style, cries out, “My word! How ever did you survive?”
A faint smile sneaks onto Fett’s face; and as he cocks his jaw, he mutters in a manner suggesting he’s lusted long for this moment, “Legends never die, Georgie.”
Pulling back on the trigger, a loud blast is heard, and onto the screen bursts the title, Boba Fett: Fett’s Fury.
And then we close with the usual, “This film is not yet rated,” credits, la di da, etcetera, etcetera.
After seeing something like that, I wouldn’t give one single darn what the plot of the movie was! My money would be hurled at whomever could get me a seat to see that awesome picture!
For the record, I have nothing against George Lucas. I love his films (save for Crystal Skull—still want my money back for that one), and I’m sure he’s a very nice guy. This is all just for the sake of humor. So, I don’t wanna see any accusations of Lucas hate in my comments section (although, so far, not one person has commented on any of my blog posts…kinda lonely over here, guys).
Anyway, what do you think? Personally, I would love to see this on screen! Boba Fett was and is an awesome character; and while I’m not too big on spin-offs, I would have to make an exception for this one.
C. K. Conners
©2015 by C. K. Conners