Can I be completely innocent again?

Thirty-eight years ago, I got caught up in the wide-eyed enthusiasm of my schoolmates and joined them for a pilgrimage to a local movie house to see Star Wars. I knew nothing of the film except for the poster, which to me promised more sword-and-sorcery than space opera. That, however, seemed hard to square with the barely-heard mutterings of my classmates (all of whom had seen it at least once) talking about "jet-eye knights"; that sounded very science-fiction-y. My mind, then, wasn't a blank slate but certainly was a confused and uninformed muddle when the London Symphony Orchestra crashed into my unready ears and the text began to scroll up the screen. I had no expectations and the movie was able to suffuse my completely open mind.

There's something magical about going in with no preconceptions, no idea of the plot or characters, no high bar to meet or to overcome, and being thrilled by a movie as it unfolds.

It's arguably impossible for any Star Wars "episode" to surprise me in the same way the original did, and so far none has. I'm hungry for one of them to do so, though, perhaps for no better reason than that lightning struck once. I guess that's why I've done my best to ignore all the trailers and other publicity for Episode VII.

I can't be a kid again. I'm still going to give Episode VII the best shot I can to blow my mind. Who knows? With each successive Star Wars movie, George Lucas did such a splendid job of lowering my expectations that maybe J. J. Abrams can catch me off guard and blow my mind.