In the 1970s, blockbuster sequels were hard to come by. Studios used franchising to paper up holes in their release schedule, rushing follow-ups into production to cash in on valuable IP as soon as possible. Miniscule budgets and quick production turnarounds made movies like the James Bond series consistently popular, but big-budget franchises were nowhere to be found.

The release of Steven Spielberg’s Jaws in 1975 changed things, but only slightly. Universal gave its 1978 successor a relatively sizeable budget, more than four times that of the original Jaws. And it seemed to work: For a brief period, Jaws 2 was the most financially successful sequel of all time, making almost $200 million worldwide on a $30 million dollar budget.

The relative success of Jaws 2 didn’t assuage any of George Lucas’ concerns. A year after Star Wars became an American phenomenon, he was already waist-deep into production on The Empire Strikes Back, and the pressure was building. Lucas wasn’t just hoping to launch the first true blockbuster franchise with Empire; he was financially dependent on the film outperforming just about every sequel that preceded it. Determined to keep his company independent of the studio system, Lucas funded Empire with his own money, and it cost him a pretty penny. During production, the film’s budget ballooned to more than 150% of the original Star Wars‘ budget, leaving Lucas struggling to negotiate with 20th Century Fox and his own bank, which was threatening to call in his loan.

On top of these financial concerns was Lucas’ fear that the characters he had created would not maintain a grip on the cultural consciousness long enough for Empire to make any money at all. The studio perception of American audiences was that they were flighty and easily distracted; a phenomenon one summer could become a costly bomb the next. With this in mind, CBS pitched Lucas a concept that could “sustain interest” in the budding franchise, as well as potentially goosing toy sales: an old-fashioned comedy variety hour, to be broadcast just before Thanksgiving.

Famous control freak George Lucas wasn’t a huge fan of handing his baby over to CBS executives, but his work on Empire took top priority. He gave the group of veteran TV writers working on the special a simple concept, handed them a mythology “bible” that would keep them from violating franchise canon, and went on his way. At the time, writer Lenny Ripps told Vanity Fair, it seemed like a slam dunk: “My God, this is an annuity—Star Wars! How could it lose?”

The creative team would quickly find out that the Star Wars brand wasn’t an automatic ticket to greatness. Part of the issue was the concept Lucas presented, which sounded good on paper but collapsed in practice. The creator wanted the Holiday Special to center on Chewbacca’s Wookiee family, specifically his wife Malla, his father Itchy, and his son Lumpy (Lucas himself named the latter two characters, according to another writer on the project, Bruce Vilanch). It would revolve around the Wookiee holiday of “Life Day,” and Chewbacca’s struggles to return to his home planet of Kashyyyk in time for the festivities. The idea kept the special from being a time commitment for returning cast members, replacing them largely with faceless Imperial officers, masked Wookiees, and a guest cast of television comedy staples.

Unfortunately, it also removed everything that made the original Star Wars appealing to audiences, leaving them trapped watching a group of warbling monkey people doing menial tasks in preparation for a bizarre space holiday. What quickly becomes apparent while watching the Holiday Special is that Star Wars occupies a very specific cultural space, and if you tread just a little bit outside of that space, the entire endeavor collapses. It’s a space that’s difficult to explain and a tone that’s even more difficult to nail, but the Holiday Special manages to exist entirely separate from any kind of Star Wars tone whatsoever. It’s clear within the first ten minutes that the writers were hopelessly out of their depth, and it’s hard to blame them because while we know it feels wrong to watch a Wookiee baby take out the garbage, we can’t quite explain why it feels wrong.

From Chewie’s family’s very retro, spacious 1970s tree-apartment to Chewie’s wife’s human-sized apron, it’s all just a tiny bit too familiar to our eye, missing that slight otherworldly atmosphere that distinguishes Star Wars from something closer to our world. There’s a scene in 2002’s Attack of the Clones where we discover that luggage in the Star Wars universe consists of pretty standard suitcases, complete with wheels and extendable handles. It shares the Special‘s peculiar tonal inconsistency with the rest of the universe, an unconsidered detail that just barely skews the entire charade.

It doesn’t help that the Holiday Special is almost entirely plotless. It’s far more Holiday Special than Star Wars, an extended hang-out montage that cuts between shoddy Wookiee costumes and bizarre cameos from our favorite characters, all of whom look like they’re performing with a DL-44 blaster pistol pointed at them from just off-camera. The best thing one can say about the meat of The Star Wars Holiday Special is that it does really capture the feeling of sitting around your house on a holiday waiting for family to show up; the only problem is that watching a family of Sasquatches do that is even more interminably boring than doing it yourself. Lumpy watches a bizarre circus-act hologram; Malla struggles to master “Bantha rump” with the help of a Julia Child-esque cooking show.

Occasionally, a hilariously coked-up Star Wars cast member will phone in, with the highlight being an appearance by a wild-eyed Mark Hamill, apparently auditioning for Cathy Rigby’s Peter Pan stage role. In the time between Star Wars and the Holiday Special, Luke has apparently found time to meet Chewie’s entire family, because they’re all very familiar with him and his malfunctioning R2-D2 impersonator. Interspersed with these original trilogy cameos are bit parts for sketch comedians of the era. Carol Burnett Show star Harvey Korman appears in no less than three roles, including the aforementioned TV chef and a patron at the classic Mos Eisley Cantina who drinks through a hole in his scalp. Here, the cantina’s bartender is Maude‘s Bea Arthur, and she stars in an in-universe Mos Eisley soap opera that climaxes in a strangely emotional musical number.

But the real star of the Holiday Special is Saun Dann (Honeymooners star Art Carney), the man who runs the “general store” on Kashyyyk. Initially, Dann was an Empire Strikes Back concept that eventually evolved into Lando Calrissian, but here he’s just a vehicle that guides the Special through its lackadaisical Imperial invasion “plot.” He’s also the trader who delivers Chewie’s father Itchy the coveted–and infamous–gift that defines the Holiday Special, a “Mind Evaporator” that delivers him a vision of Mermeia (Diahann Carroll), a “holographic fantasy woman who existed within virtual reality as an erotic entertainer.” And then Chewbacca’s ratty-looking father watches a holographic adult film, on a primetime network television holiday special.

In the end, not even a bizarrely out-of-place Jefferson Starship performance could save the Holiday Special. By the time Chewie and his family finally don their long red robes and wander into a psychedelic starscape, the special has stretched on for almost two hours, and exhaustion has set in. The final bumper of the Wookiee family saying…grace (?) is just as bizarre as everything that’s preceded it. Lucas himself was astonished at the Special‘s poor quality, supposedly saying of it, “If I had the time and a sledgehammer, I would track down every copy of that show and smash it.” Ratings cratered roughly halfway through the program, and it was never broadcast again. Lucas has refused to give up the home video rights.

But a peculiar thing has happened since then: The Star Wars Holiday Special, like many similarly shoddy elements of Star Wars history, has become oddly iconic. The most popular element of the Special, a ten-minute cartoon segment, introduced fan-favorite character, Boba Fett. On top of that, Star Wars authors keep sneaking characters into current canon. A story by Kelly Sue Deconnick and Matt Fraction in last year’s A Certain Point of View anthology canonized Bea Arthur’s bartender Ackmena, and Chuck Wendig’s Aftermath trilogy brought Malla and Lumpy (now called “Waroo”) into the Disney fold. And if books aren’t enough for you, April’s trailer for Solo: A Star Wars Story seemed to imply the presence of Chewie’s wife.

So what is it driving this resurgence in Holiday Special nostalgia? For one thing, there’s something oddly charming about its low-rent, incredibly boring presentation of the universe we’ve come to love for its bombast and big budgets. It’s like a Star Wars home movie, and for die-hard fans of the series, it’s also a fascinating artifact that speaks to just how specific a hold these movies have over our culture. Yes, there’s something just so slightly off about all of it, and in trying to figure out what, we gain a new appreciation for the times this formula works so well. And besides, it’s fun to watch garbage sometimes. Carrie Fisher herself owned a bootleg copy of the Special, and she delighted in playing her scenes at parties when she wanted people to leave. How could you not love that?

The post THE TORTURED HISTORY OF THE ‘STAR WARS’ HOLIDAY SPECIAL first appeared on We Got Bruce!.

For any of us who came of age during the 1970s, the era was a pop smorgasbord of fashion, art, culture, and music. From the iconic John Travolta inSaturday Night Fever, to the music of ABBA, to classic TV series such as All in the Family, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and The Carol Burnett Show, such references have not only helped define my generation but inspired in others an ongoing love for all things ’70s.

Actor/singer Michael Vaccaro is attempting to capture that spirit in a new Web series, Child of the ’70s, which is currently fundraising at Indiegogo. An indie actor in such movies as Todd Verow’s Deleted Scenes and The Endless Possibility of Sky, Michael also won a MAC award for Outstanding Musical Comedy Performer and has recorded two CDs, Archangel and Wait for Him.

To create Child of the ’70s, he has joined with friend and collaborator Terrence Moss as co-writers. Terrence is an independent writer based in Los Angeles who operates a website for long-form content, terrencemoss.com, consisting of articles, commentaries, reaction pieces, essays, actor/actress profiles, and an ongoing short fiction series.

The two recently met with me to discuss this shared love of the ’70s and how it helped inspire their new series.

Kergan Edwards-Stout: Michael, what is it about the 1970s that entices you? Is it the music? The TV shows? Something more?

Michael Vaccaro: All of those — and more. It was a magical era. Look at TV alone. It was the best TV ever! I mean, Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart, Cloris Leachman, Valerie Harper, Carol Burnett, Bea Arthur, and Esther Rolle — and so many more. Back then TV was interesting, smart, and funny — and unafraid, just like the people who were coming of age then.

Edwards-Stout: That was your time, huh?

Vaccaro: Yeah, I was young and really cute, and I could get into clubs and drink and have sex with hot bartenders! You could dance and go home with strangers, and everybody was doing it, and no one cared or judged. It was before we all started dying, and I remember such a sense of freedom and abandon.

Edwards-Stout: So you associate it with freedom…

Vaccaro: Exactly. There was a sense of achieving whatever dream you had. Take cinema — also the greatest decade. Actors and directors and writers were unafraid, fearless, raw. It’s all pretty much sucked since. And music? No one can tell me there’s a greater album, an album that better captured the feelings of an entire generation of people, than Saturday Night Fever.

Edwards-Stout: With your new Web series, Child of the ’70s, you’re hoping to capture some of that?

Vaccaro: I wanted to do something really fun that brought back many of the actors that I loved from that time. I’m casting a few of my absolute favorites, though I can’t talk about who just yet. So many deserving of attention. Look at the amazing resurgence of Betty White! I want to do that for a few of the people who helped make my childhood happy!

Edwards-Stout: Terrence, how did you become involved in writing the project with Michael?

Terrence Moss: Michael knew of the short story series I write for my website, as well as the pieces I had written about the Bitter Bartender Web series, and asked if I’d help him write Child of the ’70s. We met once a week for five consecutive weeks and wrote one episode each week.

Edwards-Stout: What about the Web series intrigued you?

Moss: Even though I only caught the very tail end of it, I feel a special affinity for the 1970s — the music, the TV shows, some of the movies, the social change. I liked the concept. And on a personal note, I liked that Michael was taking this part of his career into his own hands. I wanted to help with that.

Edwards-Stout: Is the tone reminiscent of those classic TV shows, such as Laverne & Shirley orWelcome Back, Kotter?

Vaccaro: I’m interested in capturing the feeling of Love, American Style. There’s a “look” from the ’70s that I adore: dark, grainy, saturated with earth tones. I’m trying to recapture that look. HD is so very clear and clean and bright, so I’m actually using older cameras.

Edwards-Stout: That sounds cool.

Vaccaro: I also love sarcasm, and it seems to me that everybody on television in the ’70s was sarcastic. Rhoda, Maude, Phyllis… I love that, and we’ve made our lead character, Carlo, pretty sarcastic, but also smart, lovable, and, again, unafraid. He’s also gay, and I wanted to mix that ’70s sensibility with a gay sensibility, which is what Heaven will be like for me.

Edwards-Stout: The series follows Carlo, who uproots his New York life to move to Los Angeles, as the personal assistant to his favorite ’70s TV star, played by Ann Walker, who was so memorable in Sordid Lives.

Vaccaro: Yes, Carlo has quite a few eerie similarities to the character of Rhoda Morgenstern. He was born and raised in the Bronx, he has a sister named Brenda, and two overbearing parents, except his are Italian. He moved out of the house when he was 24. He meets and falls in love with a man named Joe.

Edwards-Stout: Now, a lot of that sounds like you!

Vaccaro: Yes, I can tell you that I, Michael Vaccaro, also grew up in the Bronx, moved out of the house when I was 24, and fell in love with a Joe. And a few years later, I took a job as a personal assistant to a movie star, which I did for a couple of years, so I have lots of stories!

Edwards-Stout: Now, I know that aside from your creative work, you also once worked for Broadway and film legend Lainie Kazan. Any stories you can tell us?

Vaccaro: Hmm… plenty of stories. None that I can actually tell. She is fantastic. Lainie’s funny, interesting, gregarious, and very generous. She truly does light up a room. I’m hoping she’ll be in the series. I have something really juicy in mind for her.

Edwards-Stout: You’ve assembled a great cast, including funny man Bruce Vilanch. What character does he play, and how did he become involved in the project?

Vaccaro: I’ve known Bruce for years. He’s a great friend, and he’s brilliantly funny and smart. I don’t know anyone who gives more of his time to different causes. He appears at absolutely every charity event! So I just called him and asked if he’d do it, and he said yes. His character will become a major part of Carlo’s life in Los Angeles.

Edwards-Stout: I went to college with another of your stars, the multi-talented Duane Boutte. Prior to this he starred in such films as Stonewall and Brother to Brother. What led him to Child of the ’70s?

Vaccaro: Duane is an incredibly talented man, and I’ve wanted to work with him as an actor since the day we met. He plays a character modeled after “Lionel Jefferson” on The Jeffersons, who was played by Michael Evans, who I had such a big crush on when I was a kid.

Edwards-Stout: Another familiar name in your cast is Natalie Toro, who starred on Broadway inLes Miserables, among other shows.

Vaccaro: Natalie and I have been best friends since the fourth grade! She is my family, my sister, and in the show she’s playing the role of Brenda, Carlo’s sister, who is a real Snooki type!

Edwards-Stout: You’re currently raising funds for Child of the ’70s through Indiegogo, and I love that for the highest-level donation, someone can not only be an Associate Producer on the series–

Moss: It’s an easy way to get some Hollywood credits!

Edwards-Stout: –But they also get a role on the show. Would they simply be Waiter #2, or would you write them a funny bit?

Vaccaro: No, I would definitely want to write something very cool for someone who helps us out in that way. I’d want it to be something really fun!

Edwards-Stout: Now, you are both out and proud gay men, so I’ve got to ask: Aside from the general ’70s theme and your very gay and gay-friendly cast, any other hot homo moments in Child of the ’70s?

Moss: I cameo in the first episode as a co-worker of Carlo’s at a phone sex company. I don’t know if any of what I said will be heard onscreen, but if anyone can read lips, it’s very… well… it should get me a lot of dates.

Vaccaro: And, we do have someone incredibly hot playing Joe, the love interest, and if I have anything to say about it — which I do, as I’m the star, co-writer and producer — there will be lots of skin!

Moss: I imagine the real hot and heavy homo moments will occur in season two and beyond. We’ll do the reverse of Queer as Folk by toning up the hot homo stuff as the series progresses.

Edwards-Stout: What plans do you have as for the character as the series goes forward?

Vaccaro: When Carlo changes his life and moves to Los Angeles, he’s a real fish out of water, and we get to explore L.A.’s very specific quirks. We have a terrific scene about his first car accident, and the very special ’70s guest star who he crashes into! We already have a group of amazing actors lined up, including Jonathan Slavin–

Moss: From Better Off Ted.

Vaccaro: –and Jonah Blechman, who was in Another Gay Movie.

Moss: They’ll play his new L.A. best friends. It’ll turn into a little West Coast gay Sex and the City.

Edwards-Stout: OK, one last question for you lovers of the ’70s! Terrence, we’ll start with you. If you could be any character or real person from the 1970s, who would it be, and why?

Moss: Well, I’m assuming Michael is going to say Rhoda Morgenstern–

Vaccaro: Oooh, don’t steal mine!

Moss: –So I’ll say Clifton Curtis from That’s My Mama, because afros were out of style by the ’90s, and even if they came back in style, I can no longer grow enough hair to produce one.

Edwards-Stout: So, Michael, are you going with Rhoda?

Vaccaro: So many possibilities… I might choose Stockard Channing’s stewardess in The Big Bus, so I could ride a nuclear-powered bus from New York City to Denver.

Edwards-Stout: I loved that movie!

Vaccaro: But my ultimate choice would have to be Esther Hoffman Howard, so I could fall in love and have sex with John Norman Howard. I mean, was there ever a sexier guy than Kris Kristofferson in A Star Is Born?

This piece originally appeared on KerganEdwards-Stout.com and The Bilerico Project.

The post Bruce Vilanch To Appear In Michael Vaccaro’s Web Series, “Child of the ’70s” first appeared on We Got Bruce!.