Memories of Empire

It was 30 years ago. I was eleven years old. My Mother took me to the Ambassador cinema in the old Rotunda hospital building at the bottom of Parnell Square and we lined up to see Empire Strikes Back. I don't recall much about what went before. I do remember two young chancers sidling up to the middle of the queue of people and trying to casually weasel their way into the line, counting on their fellow Dubliners to demonstrate their traditional conflict aversion and look the other way, so they could cut to the front. No such luck, my Mom confronted them, let them know that she could see very well what they were up to the young pups and sent them packing, much to my utter mortification.

The Empire Strikes Back left an indelible mark on me (Safe to say it was a different experience than when I tried to see Star Wars (Ep IV) on my eighth birthday and ended up seeing The Deep starring Jacqueline Bisset instead, which left a different kind of mark, but that's another story). I recall thinking, as the final act started to unfold and tragedy piled upon tragedy;  "wow, things are bad, Han is captured and frozen in carbonite, Luke is mutilated and defeated and just found out his most bitter enemy is his Dad.. How the hell are they going to sort all this out before the end"....."hold on a second, they're not seriously going to end it here, that wouldn't be..they couldn't..holy shit they did".. 

I still remember how heavily the ending weighed on me, I felt cheated and thrilled, depressed and exhilarated, sad and deliriously happy all at the same time. Still the no-contest best moviegoing experience of my life and I believe it always will be. Thanks Mom.    

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