tarwoid: One having excessive zeal for, or irrational attachment to, a cause or position, preferably in the realm of the Star Wars trilogy or its components.
That definition would certainly be an apt description of the folks who stood in line before the release of Star Wars: Episode I—The Phantom Menace some three years ago. Sure, back then the frenzy of anticipation surrounding all things Star Wars was at its zenith. The release of the first trailer for Episode I—The Phantom Menace (for the first of the prequels) started a countdown for the most die-hard of fans of George Lucas' space saga, a countdown that became a public spectacle when fans organized lines six weeks in advance of the film's opening, simply for the honor of being the first in the theater to see the film.
The movie painstakingly documents the course of life on The Line, literally, capturing the exuberance and unflailing enthusiasm of the participants while delving into the motivations of the people, young and old, who chose to stand in line for 42 days at Mann's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, and Mann's Village in Westwood. Peripherally, the filmmaker explores other elements of the Star Wars fandom phenomenon—taking us behind the scenes of Star Wars: The Musical, to the fan convention in Denver in 1999, and on the run with a toy collector who's scouring the Targets, K-Marts and Kaybee Toys of Los Angeles to find Episode I action figures and accessories.
A documentary that strikes back
Sure, there were have been other movies that have had enough of fanbase to prompt fans to line up the day of the film. Maybe the day before, too. But 42 days before the film opens? Only Star Wars—a saga that went 16 years without a new installment—could engender such fervor. And that's what's unique about the experience that filmmaker Przywara captures with his digital video camera. We all saw the pictures on the news and in the newspapers; some of us may have even stopped by the live Webcasts to see the antics of the folks on line at Hollywood Boulevard. The story of The Lines and the people involved needed to be told—from the grassroots nature of the line at the Village theater to the modest origins of the soon-to-be-media circus known as the countingdown.com line at Mann's Chinese. Of course, some of the details the film imparts—such as those in the bathroom scene—we could have done without knowing.
The filmmaker's digital video approach gives the documentary a you-are-there veracity, and his appreciation for the subject matter is evident throughout this for-the-fans, by-the-fans film. Though shot before the current reality TV craze, this production makes The Lines seem much like Survivor meets Star Wars. But it would have been nice to see better representation of the general Star Wars fan base, and not just the over-zealous, stereotypical teenage fanboys. No doubt Star Wars affected a generation of men and women alike, not to mention influenced the next generation of kids who've grown up with the films on video, and the special-edition releases in theaters; but from watching Starwoids, casual viewers wouldn't know the true reach of the Star Wars phenomenon.
Starwoids is at its best when it's focusing on its purported subject: the lines at Mann's Chinese and Village. It's when the story ventures out to touch on other aspects of Star Wars fandom that the film's tight construction loses its shape. It's not to say that all of the extraneous segments are unappreciated: The toy-collecting bit is priceless, as is the footage of Star Wars: The Musical. But other vignettes, like the comic-book convention life of a Jawa and the odyssey to Star Wars locations, feel out of place and distracting.
