While at my parents last weekend, my oldest son together with my youngest brother both pointed out that they’d found one of my most prized possessions, both as a 6 year old and even today at 38 years old.
A Star Wars action figure that I had thought was lost to the sands of time, used as a dog chew or generally played with and abused by a 6-7 year old in the early 1980’s then tossed into the abyss of garage sale and second hand toys…..My original Boba Fett.
Boba Fett, before the prequels ruined the mystique, was the most intriguing, most widely loved minor character in the Star Wars universe.
I remember very clearly as a child in 1983 , with my mother, watching ROTJ in a theater in Decatur, IL, lamenting the fact that Boba Fett had been reduced to Sarlaac food with such minor fanfare…how could the movie go on?
The draw of Boba Fett was that he was not really a villain, he was vilified, but he was really just morally ambiguous. Good? Evil? Boring. Boba Fett was a working man. He did the job and he did it well. Damn the morals, rules and laws. He didn’t need the force. He didn’t need a cause. He got shit done regardless.
I remember that this figure, along with IG-88, which I broke the right arm off of, were my two favorite and most prized action figures. Ever. Period.
Of all star wars characters, I always identified most closely with Boba Fett. I never really wanted to be a Jedi as a kid. It was cool, but Boba Fett had style and power without the shackles of the labels of good or bad that the force imposes. Not a Jedi but skilled in his own way, not to be trifled with. Does what needs done. Who wouldn’t want that?
Like Peter Griffin once said: No Matter How Sure I Am, I Never Risk The Fett Man..