You don’t need to show your tits to kick ass but it’s better if you do
Princess Leia smuggles and shoots and delivers scornful looks in a long-sleeve, floor-length, quasi-turtle-neck dress. Princess Leia drives the stormtrooper scooter in a hideous yet awesome space poncho.
But then George Lucas had to make her get her tits out in the third installment. Can I forget the solid lead bikini? No. Damn you to hell, impractical swimwear. If it weren’t for Carrie Fisher’s face rather lasciviously endorsing Jabba’s fetishistic tendencies (I like to pretend it was just the coke), you might have remembered that the bikini is MEANT to be demeaning. That the solid-gold bondage outfit is used to humiliate Princess Leia. And focus on the fact that she then strangles him. Not in a sexy way. IN A KILLING SORT OF WAY. (This is how it must have got past the smart people who also wrote this movie.) But no. Mostly, people liked Princess Leia, so she had to get ‘em out. (In defense of humanity, a load of women got out and walked out of the screening in protest the first time my mother saw Return. Did anybody do that for Suckerpunch? Or <insert movie title that fails the Bechdel test>? <despair>)
Incest is OK as long as you don’t have babies.
Did you know they cut an even more passionate almost-snog from Empire? (Neither did I until I started reading Wookiepedia, this evening, to verify my quotes I NEED A LIFE) Well, even without that, you now understand that kissing your brother to make Han jealous ensures you get him in the end.
And bros, don’t worry. You can still put your creepy fake hand on her shoulder.
You get jobs by hanging out in dodgy bars.
As you drink completely unidentified, free drinks in a place where people regularly shoot each other and mostly look like flies, two men who are most definitely running from the law will offer you thousands of
pounds princess kisses monies to drunk-fly at the speed of light. Across space. That doesn’t sound like the drugs talking! It’s totally a valid, semi-permanent job offer! With unexpected diplomatic responsibilities. And death. Probably death.
If you do a job well you will receive actual, literal boxes of money that look a bit like tiny green filing cabinets (tiny green filing cabinets full of republic credits, you whisper) but it won’t stop the bounty hunters from getting you.
I mean, if you’re not up for the bar-hanging route, that’s how you get jobs, right? Stand too long by the prunes wrapped in bacon, waiting to be mingled with by the head of Barclays and BAM! They’ve hunted your brain. Then they feed it to their evil children. Right?
N.B. If you are branded a mercenary, attractive women may glower at you and make you wait for at least 15 minutes of film before they let you kiss them.
Never trust a man with a porn ‘tache
I mean, Lando is a good guy, just hangin’ out in his giant art-deco Tupperware, wearing his space bellbottoms. Apart from his endless mispronunciation of ‘Han’ as if he were a particularly nice hunk of cured pork, he’s ok.
But don’t trust them. Anyway. Because he might be feeding Darth Vader space peanuts and space cocktails in a tiny weird room, and he really wants to tell you his is your father.
If you wear a tiny bear costume people will shoot at you with guns
but in the end you will triumph.