May The Fierce Be With You
This essay originaly appeared in IN L.A. MAGAZINE May 2007
What's gay about Star Wars? With the 30th anniversary approaching, we look at the iconic film series with a queer eye.
By Mike Diamond
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (Long Island, circa 1980), I was a homo-in-training with a thing for Star Wars. The movies appealed to me with their fantastical locales and exciting characters, allowing me to escape the boredom of my suburban childhood existence. I collected anything and everything Star Wars — action figures, books, candy — with an attention to detail that would serve me well during my later obsessions with skin care products, pharmaceutical drugs and married men.
But why Star Wars? Was there something inherent in these epic space movies that spoke to my inner gay boy? Perhaps it was the lightsabers, the most phallic of weapons. Could have been the Rebel's X-wing fighter spaceships, which look very much like penises. Was it little green Yoda, who reminded me of every crusty 80-year-old dyke I would encounter in my life?
The year 2007 marks the 30th anniversary of the release of the original Star Wars film, an appropriate time to look at these legendary cinematic creations with my jaundiced eye, and see how they put the "out" in outer space. Luke Skywalker is the focus of the first three films, and has always struck me as a big closet queen. The way he gloms onto Ben "Obi Wan" Kenobi; was Luke seeking the wisdom of a sage mentor, or aching to be a blond boy toy for that dirty old man? And all that bogus lusting after Princess Leia—child please, only a closeted homo would have a crush on their sister. The big giveaway is Luke's drama with Darth Vader; what gay boy doesn't have Daddy issues? True, most of us don't have Daddy Dearest chop our hands off in the heat of a laser sword duel, but I for one have spent many an evening trying to resolve my Daddy issues with passive aggressive strangers with big pecs.
Speaking of Vader — was he not the biggest leather queen ever? Those shiny black boots, the leather gloves — this dude was just waiting to get some hottie in a zero-gravity sling. And those leather pants of his — for all we know they were assless chaps, but that damn cape was always in the way. That scary black mask was the ultimate sadistic accessory — can't you see him at your neighborhood leather bar with half-naked leather boys groveling at his feet? Master Jedi indeed! There was that S&M scene in The Empire Strikes Back, where Vader has Han Solo strapped to an electro-torture device; if that ain't kinky, honey, I don't know what is.
I always loved Han Solo, tight-panted space stud. Harrison Ford never looked sexier, with his tousled hair and curled upper lip. I used to fantasize about being his chair on the Millenium Falcon. Think about it. Of course, he was destined to hook up with Princess Leia, interplanetary feminist, coke whore and 1970s fashion icon. Nobody worked a pair of cinnamon bun hairpieces like Miss Leia. I'm sure Chewbacca was jealous of Han and Leia's relationship; I saw the way his eyes lit up whenever Han "entered the cockpit." Chewbacca, that hairy beast, inspired legions of bears to be. Even little gay boys with furry futures need a role model! You won't find any hot wax on his home planet. Would that make the Ewoks bear cubs? Food for thought. Quite frankly, I think Lando Calrissian also had the hots for Han; it would not surprise me one bit if Mr. Cloud City was on "the downlow." Please, the man wears a blue cape.
Many of the locations in the Star Wars universe reek of same-sex love. The Cantina on Tatooine? Honey, it's just a gay bar without the go-go boys. Watch that scene again and look closely; I swear some of those creatures are grinding their teeth, and at least one is wearing nipple clamps. The Death Star sounds like the hottest after-hours club in the galaxy; I hear the door scene is intense.
The later trilogy of films also had its share of rainbow flag elements. Episode II's official title was Attack of the Clones. Sounds like any Friday night in West Hollywood, right? What's up with that annoying Jar-Jar Binks? All that jive talking and long, ponytail like ears flopping around, he strikes me as an amphibious reggae queen. Maybe that's the hot thing to be in outer space. It's like the lesbian chic without the lipstick. As for Queen Amidala—my Lord, who does her hair? Some interplanetary drag queen took one look at her and thought "The Galaxy's Next Top Freaky Hair Model." In some scenes the poor dear is wearing 50 pounds of Wookie hair extensions teased up into a Memoirs of a Space Geisha 'do; in others she's rocking a braided "Swiss Miss on space crack" style. No wonder she couldn't see that Anakin Skywalker had some serious psychological issues; all those hair products probably gave her migraines.
That Anakin was quite delicious in Episodes II and III; in the first, he was just an annoying little brat who deserved to be a slave on Watto's desert plantation. But when he grew up- delicious! Sculpted abs, his own ride, rageaholic issues— everything I look for in a man! I suspect there was some sexual chemistry between him and Obi Wan, with all that "Master" and "My young apprentice" dialogue. Like Tracy and Hepburn, but without the humor and intellect. Still, I could just picture Obi Wan, played by the tasty Ewan McGegor, putting Anakin over his knee for a little "Master to Padawan" discipline. Jedi training indeed! You know that would so piss off the Emperor—now there's a bitter old queen who doesn't understand boundaries.
Of course, no discussion of the gayness of Star Wars would be complete without paying homage to C-3PO, my first gay role model. "3PO" as his homies called him, was a robotic nervous Nellie and a total flamer. He was fluent in over 6 million forms of communication (queens are so chatty); he inexplicably spoke with a clipped British accent (and we know all those Brits are nancy boys); he enjoyed a good dip in an oil bath (what self respecting homo doesn't like a good manscaping every now and then?). It was so obvious; Princess Leia was his fag hag and R2-D2 was his android fuck buddy. R2 was obviously the top—those short ones always have something to prove.
This essay originaly appeared in IN L.A. MAGAZINE May 2007
What's gay about Star Wars? With the 30th anniversary approaching, we look at the iconic film series with a queer eye.
By Mike Diamond
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (Long Island, circa 1980), I was a homo-in-training with a thing for Star Wars. The movies appealed to me with their fantastical locales and exciting characters, allowing me to escape the boredom of my suburban childhood existence. I collected anything and everything Star Wars — action figures, books, candy — with an attention to detail that would serve me well during my later obsessions with skin care products, pharmaceutical drugs and married men.
But why Star Wars? Was there something inherent in these epic space movies that spoke to my inner gay boy? Perhaps it was the lightsabers, the most phallic of weapons. Could have been the Rebel's X-wing fighter spaceships, which look very much like penises. Was it little green Yoda, who reminded me of every crusty 80-year-old dyke I would encounter in my life?
The year 2007 marks the 30th anniversary of the release of the original Star Wars film, an appropriate time to look at these legendary cinematic creations with my jaundiced eye, and see how they put the "out" in outer space. Luke Skywalker is the focus of the first three films, and has always struck me as a big closet queen. The way he gloms onto Ben "Obi Wan" Kenobi; was Luke seeking the wisdom of a sage mentor, or aching to be a blond boy toy for that dirty old man? And all that bogus lusting after Princess Leia—child please, only a closeted homo would have a crush on their sister. The big giveaway is Luke's drama with Darth Vader; what gay boy doesn't have Daddy issues? True, most of us don't have Daddy Dearest chop our hands off in the heat of a laser sword duel, but I for one have spent many an evening trying to resolve my Daddy issues with passive aggressive strangers with big pecs.
Speaking of Vader — was he not the biggest leather queen ever? Those shiny black boots, the leather gloves — this dude was just waiting to get some hottie in a zero-gravity sling. And those leather pants of his — for all we know they were assless chaps, but that damn cape was always in the way. That scary black mask was the ultimate sadistic accessory — can't you see him at your neighborhood leather bar with half-naked leather boys groveling at his feet? Master Jedi indeed! There was that S&M scene in The Empire Strikes Back, where Vader has Han Solo strapped to an electro-torture device; if that ain't kinky, honey, I don't know what is.
I always loved Han Solo, tight-panted space stud. Harrison Ford never looked sexier, with his tousled hair and curled upper lip. I used to fantasize about being his chair on the Millenium Falcon. Think about it. Of course, he was destined to hook up with Princess Leia, interplanetary feminist, coke whore and 1970s fashion icon. Nobody worked a pair of cinnamon bun hairpieces like Miss Leia. I'm sure Chewbacca was jealous of Han and Leia's relationship; I saw the way his eyes lit up whenever Han "entered the cockpit." Chewbacca, that hairy beast, inspired legions of bears to be. Even little gay boys with furry futures need a role model! You won't find any hot wax on his home planet. Would that make the Ewoks bear cubs? Food for thought. Quite frankly, I think Lando Calrissian also had the hots for Han; it would not surprise me one bit if Mr. Cloud City was on "the downlow." Please, the man wears a blue cape.
Many of the locations in the Star Wars universe reek of same-sex love. The Cantina on Tatooine? Honey, it's just a gay bar without the go-go boys. Watch that scene again and look closely; I swear some of those creatures are grinding their teeth, and at least one is wearing nipple clamps. The Death Star sounds like the hottest after-hours club in the galaxy; I hear the door scene is intense.
The later trilogy of films also had its share of rainbow flag elements. Episode II's official title was Attack of the Clones. Sounds like any Friday night in West Hollywood, right? What's up with that annoying Jar-Jar Binks? All that jive talking and long, ponytail like ears flopping around, he strikes me as an amphibious reggae queen. Maybe that's the hot thing to be in outer space. It's like the lesbian chic without the lipstick. As for Queen Amidala—my Lord, who does her hair? Some interplanetary drag queen took one look at her and thought "The Galaxy's Next Top Freaky Hair Model." In some scenes the poor dear is wearing 50 pounds of Wookie hair extensions teased up into a Memoirs of a Space Geisha 'do; in others she's rocking a braided "Swiss Miss on space crack" style. No wonder she couldn't see that Anakin Skywalker had some serious psychological issues; all those hair products probably gave her migraines.
That Anakin was quite delicious in Episodes II and III; in the first, he was just an annoying little brat who deserved to be a slave on Watto's desert plantation. But when he grew up- delicious! Sculpted abs, his own ride, rageaholic issues— everything I look for in a man! I suspect there was some sexual chemistry between him and Obi Wan, with all that "Master" and "My young apprentice" dialogue. Like Tracy and Hepburn, but without the humor and intellect. Still, I could just picture Obi Wan, played by the tasty Ewan McGegor, putting Anakin over his knee for a little "Master to Padawan" discipline. Jedi training indeed! You know that would so piss off the Emperor—now there's a bitter old queen who doesn't understand boundaries.
Of course, no discussion of the gayness of Star Wars would be complete without paying homage to C-3PO, my first gay role model. "3PO" as his homies called him, was a robotic nervous Nellie and a total flamer. He was fluent in over 6 million forms of communication (queens are so chatty); he inexplicably spoke with a clipped British accent (and we know all those Brits are nancy boys); he enjoyed a good dip in an oil bath (what self respecting homo doesn't like a good manscaping every now and then?). It was so obvious; Princess Leia was his fag hag and R2-D2 was his android fuck buddy. R2 was obviously the top—those short ones always have something to prove.
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