A Forgotten Treasure from the 1970s
The Star Wars Holiday Special,
Part 1

2,864 words

Part 1 of 2 (Part 2 here)

My young heart suddenly sank like Ted Kennedy’s car at Chappaquiddick on November 18, 1978. I discovered that the Star Wars Holiday Special was being shown on TV — but that it had aired the day before! As a vidiot more intimately familiar with the program guide than a monk with the Rule of St. Benedict, how did such a blockbuster escape my notice? Although forlorn, I figured there might be a rerun. Then I set the thought aside as too optimistic; don’t kid yourself, kid.

I, a little cynic in the making, was correct. It was never rebroadcast on the Electric Rabbi, or even the barren doldrums of late-night Cabal TV. Neither was there any official release on home media, aside from a brief animated excerpt. But back in the day, a few kids out there taped it for posterity. Luckily for them, they had VCRs, thanks to parents who were pushovers, TV addicts, or simply wealthy enough to afford this then-newly-emergent technology.

Fast forward about four decades. Al Gore had invented the Internet by then, and I found out that this early entry in the gargantuan franchise that the Star Wars universe would become, the Star Wars Holiday Special, hadn’t been lost forever! Heck, thought I, maybe it’s even better than the prequel trilogy! That’s easy enough; the first was lame, the second was kind of meh, and only the third got close to being up to snuff. I excitedly began to watch the forgotten classic that I’d missed during my misspent youth. Soon, my heart sank once again. A few minutes into the show, it became obvious why Lucasfilm had all but disowned it.

I have a bad feeling about this . . .

Many of these VHS recordings included the commercial breaks. It’s quite fitting; one of the obvious purposes of the Star Wars Holiday Special was generating interest in sales for the following week’s consumer orgy that is now called Black Friday. Indeed, the ads have more sparkle than the show itself, as well as more entertainment value and cultural significance. A couple of them were slightly woke, but still a breath of fresh air compared to so many contemporary commercials that seem to be made to insult and demoralize the audience.

The above-referenced edit, for example, begins with C‑3PO and his diminutive sidekick plugging Kenner’s line of thematic toys. What a blast from the past! There’s even a remote controlled R2‑D2, which was kinda sorta cutting edge for toys back then. Anything from Kenner’s Star Wars line in good condition is probably worth something on the collectibles market. Other than that, the Star Wars Holiday Special was sponsored by General Motors, the people building transportation to serve the people. Vroom vroom!

The show itself begins with the Millennium Falcon being hotly pursued by two Imperial Star Destroyers. Han Solo and Chewbacca are taking fire. They’re bound for Chewie’s homeworld to see his family on Life Day, a sacred occasion for Wookiees. (The details of the event aren’t made very clear; it aired shortly before Thanksgiving, but it’s sometimes erroneously called the “Christmas Special.” Those were the days when you could still say Christmas, of course.) They soon take off at ludicrous speed, if I may be so bold as to borrow from another movie. Their destination is the Wookiee[1] homeworld. Later in the show it’s referred to as “the Kazzook planet,” which is pretty lame, though the franchise later quietly renamed it Kashyyyk.

Back at the ranch on Kazzook or wherever, a gigantic treehouse is shown. Inside this domicile is Chewbacca’s family: his wife Malla, his father Itchy, and the child Lumpy — yes, really. It turns out their full names are Mallatobuck, Attichitcuk, and Lumpawarrump — as if anyone needed to know. It’s unclear how these names are supposed to be enunciated, even in abbreviated form, since their language — called Shyriiwook, for one more unnecessary factoid — consists entirely of animal noises such as grunts, yawns, and howls. There’ll be much of that shortly! Although Chewie himself looks like the result of a hot date between a bear and a gorilla, his relations resemble Australian aborigines, with extreme hirsutism making them appear even more atavistic.

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Inside Chewbacca’s treehouse, Scratchy — oops, I mean Itchy — is lounging in a chair. Meanwhile, Malla is wearing an apron and cooking. Apparently second-wave feminism hadn’t caught up to Kazzook yet in 1978. Lumpy is constantly making noise, annoying his elders, trying to swipe cookies, and generally getting in trouble. (By the way, there’s a recipe for these “Wookiee-ookies” documented in the endless annals of fan wank.) This show is already getting quite tiresome. To enjoy it, I’d have to smoke as much marijuana as the late William F. Buckley, the self-appointed gatekeeper of conservatism.

If I hadn’t missed this as a kid in 1978, would I have identified with the youthful Lumpy? I doubt it, but if I’d seen anything of myself in him, I would’ve hung my head in shame. This stuff gets old really fast, most especially because of the shaggy little monstrosity’s incessant buzzing and squealing. Since he’s Kazzook’s poster child for attention deficit disorder, he’s doing that a lot. If only he’d put a cork in it for a cotton-picking minute, he’d be cute rather than profoundly annoying. Oops, can I still say “cotton picking” these days?

Then he’s ordered to do a chore and acts punky. Once outside, he looks down at the distant ground. Lumpy then climbs up on the treehouse’s railing. (JUMP, YOU LITTLE RUNT, JUMP!) More of this domestic scene drags on for the next 12 minutes, which is massive overkill. If this clip were used in enhanced interrogations, the American Civil Liberties Union and Amnesty International would go after it like the Los Angeles police went after Rodney King. Apart from a brief chat with Luke Skywalker, the dialogue consists entirely of the usual Wookiee noises; the shtick is for the viewer to figure out what is being said from the context. You knew I was gonna say it: Somebody’s been to film school! Apparently the script had a translation of the dialogue, but for the viewers, there are no subtitles.

A brief scene follows with Saun Dann, a local shlockmeister. He’s played by Art Carney, a name unlikely to ring bells with kids these days. He was a much hotter commodity back then, having been one of the stars of the groundbreaking sitcom The Honeymooners in the 1950s. He has a coded chat with Malla while an oblivious Imperial Stormtrooper is browsing in his store. Demonstrating the brutal yoke of the Empire’s occupation, the dumb lunk brazenly commits petty shoplifting. Ooh, desperado! After that there is a clip with Darth Vader, a deleted scene recycled from the original Star Wars — what kids these days now call Episode 4: A New Hope. He hasn’t Force-Choked anyone yet, but we’re about to see another very deserving candidate.

First commercial break

Anyone remember these?

Twenty minutes into the show, we have the first ads. Ah, relief! First up is one from General Motors (GM). Willie Rawls, Utility Man, narrates from a factory. He’s black, so we can see that GM is a progressive corporation that values diversity and inclusion. There’s also a blonde lady on the assembly line, bravely smashing stereotypes about auto workers as she wields a hydraulic ratchet. Soon a black lady appears — hey, two intersectionality points now! (It’s three if she happens to be packing a vibrator in her purse, and four if she’s really a man.) I was waiting to see a one-legged Chinese lesbian who identifies as a cat busily bolting in transmissions, but it seems they weren’t progressive enough for that yet.

Another Kenner spot showcases their Trailtrackers, little motorized pink vans. As the voiceover says, you draw on a play map with a crayon, and the Trailtracker follows it. Cool deal! I don’t recall these getting as popular as Cabbage Patch Kids, but one of those doohickeys in good working condition might fetch a decent buck on the collectibles market.

Did you suppose that Jar Jar Binks was the dopiest Star Wars character?

Back to Kazzook. Lumpy is still being a furry punk. Malla turns on the idiot box. It’s the show-within-a-show shtick, one of several instances of this serving as filler to compensate for the underdeveloped plot. The actor in it is Harvey Korman, another one whose star still had a bit of twinkle left in 1978 yet wasn’t exactly one of Hollywood’s immortals. In this role, he’s in blackface (which would get him the death penalty these days) and a drag costume that nearly outdoes Divine. Despite appearances, he is not one of those groomers infesting our libraries.

Yes, we’re still watching a Star Wars movie. No, this is not a nightmare. This isn’t an LSD flashback. Neither did you mistakenly use your stoner roommate’s mushrooms for your omelet, or lick the wrong toad. (Is there ever a right toad to lick?) The Holiday Special was not part of a massive MKultra experiment –or at least nobody at the CIA has confessed to it yet.

It’s a cooking program — obviously an imitation of a Julia Child show, yet somehow even more boring. (There’s an entire page of fan wank about the TV chef Gormaanda, should you be interested.) Malla is following along with the program, as directed: “Stir, whip — stir, whip — whip, whip, stir!” Then she gives up, unable to keep up with the pace after Gormaanda deploys a second pair of arms. Beware; the scene is about four minutes of your life that you’ll never get back. If I’d seen this in 1978, something in me would’ve died. After the absolute coolest movie EVER was followed up by something this wretched, my youthful innocence would’ve been forever shattered.

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Then things get serious. The Empire imposes martial law on Kazzook. Saun Dann the shlockmeister drops by bearing gifts. (Reminder: Buy prezzies!) Lumpy runs upstairs to his loft bedroom. It’s just as well, because the next scene would’ve tarnished his innocence, too.

The merchant’s gift to Itchy is a pornographic “wow” proton pack. (That’s pretty clear, but the script itself leaves no doubt whatsoever.) It’s played on a “mind evaporator,” but the prop looks like a salon’s hair dryer. Mermeia appears, another minor character now gifted with a page of fan wank, played by Diahann Carroll. Although little known these days, she had a decent acting career prior to this show. I feel bad that she had to play such a dreadful role. She got signed on in the name of diversity casting, according to the fan wank page, but I’ll give her credit for singing well during this show-within-a-show.

The enticing act makes Itchy’s jaw waggle, emphasizing his prominent underbite. What’s pictured on TV is only a little suggestive, but he’s getting his mind evaporated, all right. Apparently the elderly Wookiee has inclinations as epicurean as Jabba the Hutt, since he doesn’t mind lusting after a human-appearing computerized construct. Although there was a facet of the 1970s characterized by tackiness and bad taste, this part didn’t age well. For a contemporary analogy, imagine your grandfather wearing a virtual-reality headset in the living room and getting off to (((Pornhub))) during a family gathering — definitely a moment needing brain bleach.

A few miscellaneous scenes follow. Malla grunts at Princess Leia and C‑3PO. Han and Chewie are hurtling through space. Then, a couple of Imperial Stormtroopers show up at the door back on Kazzook — the usual sort of cliffhanger preceding advertisements.

Second commercial break

There are teasers for several shows, including the infamous prime-time propaganda series All in The Family. Then there’s an advertisement in which a couple compares what medications they should use. (When a commercial has a man and a woman disagreeing, who’s always right? Golly jeepers, I have no idea . . .) The husband shows off his side of the medicine cabinet, containing several remedies. Then the wife shows off her side, with a single box of Comtrex multi-symptom cold reliever that does all that in just one pill! Well, looky here, how about that? Then, on to the next spot:

There used to be more of us in the International Ladies’ Garments Workers’ Union [ILGWU]. A lot of our jobs have disappeared. A lot of the clothes Americans are buying for women and kids are imports. They’re being made in foreign places. When the work’s done here, we can support our families and pay our taxes and buy the things other Americans make. That’s what it means when the label says “union.”

After that, a group of workers sings the ILGWU’s anthem, with others marching forward. (It slightly resembles the Life Day ritual at the end of the show, but better.) The message is clear: Buy the products they make, and you’re supporting your own community. They had a point, now didn’t they? Unfortunately, globalism continued to do an end run around our organized labor, and now everything’s made in China.

For the Leftist take on this, the vanguard of labor certainly was aware that international capital was working against them, seeking to undercut their livelihood. However, as Comrade Lenin’s classic What Is to Be Done illustrates, economite trade unionism by itself is an insufficient measure to generate the revolutionary ferment necessary to throw off the shackles of exploitation. Instead, proletarian class consciousness is where it’s at, and that’s a fact, Jack.

To put it more plainly, Sartre promotes the use of a capitalist narrative to deconstruct class divisions. But the subject is contextualized into a Lacanist obscurity that includes narrativity as a totality. The premise of Marxism holds that the purpose of the observer is social comment. It could be said that Marx uses the term “cultural paradigm of reality” to denote not theory, as Baudrillard would have it, but post-theory. Lacan’s essay on semantic sublimation implies that culture is used to oppress minorities. Therefore, if Marxism holds, we have to choose between the cultural paradigm of reality and pre-cultural deconstruction.

The next ad recommends giving a Genuine Bell phone as a gift. Cool — anyone remember land lines? The next messages were from CBS itself, promoting upcoming shows. After that is a spot by Reggie Jackson promoting eponymous Reggie! bars “with a rich caramel center, lots of fresh roasted peanuts, and a super chocolatey covering.” It looks to be close to a Snickers bar, but in a gooey patty. If you still have some of those in a long-forgotten corner of the pantry, they’re probably become hard enough to use as construction materials by now. But they were oly, so it could be worth something on the collectibles market, if there’s a market for long-expired food.

I know they can’t shoot worth a damn, but this slacker didn’t even try to fry Lumpy at point-blank range.

Back to the show. A pair of Stormtroopers, accompanied by two other Imperial meanies, bust into the treehouse. They start getting aggro, but Saun Dann distracts the chief with a Jefferson Starship vidya. (It seems the totalitarian brutes aren’t the brightest bulbs in the chandelier, a worse problem than their notoriously bad marksmanship.) It’s a decent video by 1970s standards, and a good performance overall, meriting its own brief page of fan wank. Still, I’d take five minutes of rap “music” over Wookiees grunting at each other — not that there’s much difference.

After that is the famous animated sequence, which is sometimes praised by critics. It’s the only part of the Holiday Special that has ever been officially rereleased. It was well-made for a late-1970s cartoon, as I know from my favorite addiction on weekday afternoons and Saturday mornings during my misspent youth. On the other hand, it’s not quite up to the standard that the animated film Heavy Metal set a short time later, in 1981. The quality is close in some ways, but the faces are often contorted and ugly, and it shows metal objects (the droids, for example) bending easily. But the cartoon is certainly notable for being the first appearance of Boba Fett, three years before his live-action debut in The Empire Strikes Back. I considered him more of an annoying piss-ant than a terrifying foe in that movie, and this sequence doesn’t change my mind.

Note

[1] My fellow human people, the term Wookiee is capitalized here in recognition of their profound sense of solidarity, forged by endless persecution. We, on the other hand, are not a distinct species, so we don’t merit capitalization. So-called humans are merely a social construct organized to gain unearned privilege over People Of Extraterrestrialness. As every enlightened person agrees, humans don’t exist, but it’s super-duper important that humans cease to exist in the future. If further explanation is necessary, enroll in one of our Humanness Studies classes for more moldy word games.

Moreover, since human supreeeemists often capitalize both “human” and “Wookiee,” it would be highly problematic to be consistent like those evil deplorables, because rejecting double standards spreads hatred. No, my fellow human people, I’m totally not doing this to be snotty while making up disingenuous excuses to conceal my smelly biases — perish the thought! But I do have a bridge for sale in Brooklyn.