We went to go see The Last Jedi as part of Andrew’s 50th birthday celebration yesterday (the first part, infinitely more satisfactory, was lunch at Goldberg’s Deli in Factoria mall).

And yeah, the theater was almost empty and the seats, bundled in cosy packages of two, were wide, properly supportive, and reclined providing ample leg room.
But the movie was bad.

Not Phantom Menace bad. The Last Jedi is watchable at least and Phantom Menace…. (shudder).
And maybe I’m being hypocritical because I’m willing to suspend my disbelief enough to accept faster than light space ships, laser blasters, light sabers, and Wookies.
But I’m sorry, regardless of being “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away” THE GODDAMN RULES OF PHYSICS STILL APPLY. When you have (largely) bilaterally symmetrical bipedal humanoid characters as the focus of the story you cannot ignore the fact that in the ice cold reaches of the vacuum of space an unprotected bilaterally symmetrical bipedal humanoid body will literally have its lungs turned inside out, to say nothing of its eyeballs exploded UNLESS IT IS WELL PROTECTED.

Proof again that, as much of an improvement over George Lucas’ attempts as they are, the J.J. Abrams attempts at continuing the story line are the blockbuster definition of what happens when a pimply adolescent’s non-slave Leia fan fic is given a jillion dollar budget.

Yeah, I guess I’m just getting old. You damn kids should get the hell off my lawn.