Now that I’ve posted about Deadpool way later than I wanted to, I might a well backtrack even further and talk about Star Wars. Star Wars is always relevant, right? Busy schedules notwithstanding, the main reason I held off so long on talking about it is that I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. I’m not a huge Star Wars fan, and the series generally isn’t taken seriously as cinema despite largely defining a genre. But come on. It’s Star Wars.

I still remember going to the theater to see The Phantom Menace when I was a kid. I remember that first Clone Wars “micro series.” And I knew like everybody knew that there were always supposed to be nine episodes, but that George Lucas had retired the franchise. I don’t think any of us imagined that Disney would buy Lucas Ltd. and resurrect Star Wars with Episode VII.

Now, I would definitely consider myself a J.J. Abrams fan. (Although, I’ve never seen Lost. I’ll get around to it eventually.) Say what you will about whatever imagined fault, he’s a good director. Super 8 was terribly compelling, and he managed to get an entirely new demographic into Star Trek. So where everyone else groaned when he signed on to direct Episode VII, I was excited. I thought he was sure to do well. And the man did not disappoint.

The biggest thing Episode VII has been accused of is having exactly the same plot as Episode IV. And while that might be true, I would like to direct the court’s attention to the Monomyth. That first section of the Wikipedia page is perfect to be getting on with, and it summarizes the thing much better than I ever could, so kindly take a moment to familiarize yourself with the basics.

With me so far? Wonderful. So, the keen reader would notice that both Episode IV and Episode VII follow the basic skeleton of the hero’s journey. There’s a reason the Monomyth is called the Monomyth. There are literally thousands of stories that follow this formula. And that’s because there’s something inherent in human nature that drives us all not only to enjoy that story, but also to behave that way ourselves. We’re not especially unique from each other, emotionally speaking, although we definitely are emotionally complex. We embark on the hero’s journey pretty often ourselves at different points in our lives, so when we see someone going through the same thing, we immediately identify with them.

So Episodes IV and VII follow the same formula because it works. One can hardly blame the writers – or J.J. Abrams – for that. If that’s not compelling enough for you, look at it another way: the major complaint that most sequels in popular franchises get is that the sequel is too unlike the original. The audience always wishes that the sequel had more of whatever nebulous thing that made the first installment so great. Episode VII did as much of that as it could, while still keeping things fresh.

What about everything else? Episode VII has it all: witty dialogue, lovable characters, quirky creatures, gorgeous sets and locations, seamless CGI, a solid plot, a heart-wrenching story, and the perfect setup for its subsequent two installments. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry. You’ll feel like a kid again. All of the magic from the original trilogy – much of which was arguably absent from the prequel trilogy – is present in spades. Even the most casual Star Wars fan (me) becomes the biggest fan while watching Episode VII.

But what, I can hear the internet yelling, about Kylo Ren? Or the rampant plot holes? Both of those topics would require posts unto themselves. I already have one drafted about plot holes; expect it next week. We’ll see later how I feel about writing about everyone’s favorite space emo.