A long time ago, in a studio far, far away…the evil emperor Weinstein almost destroyed a movie by replacing solid storylines with a little beer and raunchy humor.
For those of you who don’t know, the Fanboys is about five friends that, in 1998, decide to break into Skywalker Ranch to sneak an advanced peek at the rough cut of Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace…well, that’s the bleached out version the Weinstein’s want to release, anyway. Really, the decision to embark on this quest to end all fan quests, is due to the fact that one of the gang is terminally ill and probably won’t live to see the theatrical release. The battle over the editing of Fanboys caused the August 2007 release date to be pushed…and pushed…and pushed…and pushed…and pushed…and FINALLY culminating in a limited release in February 2009 (cancer plot included). Take that, the man!
This movie has more drama attached to it than you can shake a gaffi stick at (reshoots, rewrites, director switcheroos, and more). But why? It’s a truly endearing ode to Star Wars, with a bevy of brilliant cameos, sharp writing, and Kristen Bell. Well, sweeties, there is this super-douchey entity known as the entertainment industry that fancies itself omniscient–particularly when it comes to knowing what people “want” to read/watch/listen to/etc. This is about Star Wars fans not American Pie: The Naked Mile virginity-losing alcoholics in training. Fools.
It’s too bad that is was shortchanged, because it’s good, it’s funny, and it’s sweet. I laughed likea super nerd, especially when Kristen Bell’s Zoe excitedly blurts out “I can hear his beard!” as Danny McBride’s security guard takes a call from the scruffy gagillionaire or when Seth Rogen’s deranged pimp boasts his tattoo and general anticipation for what is now one of the most mocked Star Wars characters in history: Jar Jar Binks.
This is because it was a movie about fans, starring fans, intended for fans; and the message is clear: when you’re a real fanboy/girl, the object of your affection surpasses all levels of reason. That’s why you don’t call Han Solo a bitch around a Star Warshipper, or question the awesomeness of James T. Kirk in front of a Trekkie, and NEVER dis Edward Cullen anywhere near a Twihard (unless it’s around a freaky member of Team Jacob–then that’s just plain ol’ American fun).
Come to think of it, I’ll start scripting Fanboys 2 (about a daring trek to a far away land to touch Rob Pattinson’s coif–before he cuts it off again).