Imagine if Obi-Wan had just packed a big fat bowl of space weed and told Luke, “look, kid, smoke this because I’ve got some shit to lay down, and it’s gonna blow you’re fucking mind,“ and just told him the whole story. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble down the line.

We would never have gotten the big reveal in Empire, but we would’ve gotten a narratively consistent episodes 1-6, prequels that didn’t suck because now everything that happened had context, and arguably a much better version of Star Wars as a result, as Luke had more than just faith that his father had good in him and could be redeemed, and could actually have a relationship with his sister.

A unified saga of genuine quality across all six films — telling one coherent story about trauma, love, institutional failure, and the possibility of redemption, rather than a fractured plot lines, one of the heroes tale, one of weird bureaucratic failures, traumatized, childhood, and a romantic sub, plot, full of disconnected and incoherent dialogue.