Once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far away, “Star Wars” was the stuff of legends. It was a cosmic epic where rebels and empires clashed in breathtaking battles, and lightsabers hummed like the sweet sound of nerd heaven. There were no mouse ears in sight, no “corporate synergy,” just pure, undiluted space opera magic. Then one day, in 2012, the mouse himself—Mickey, that is—swung in with a $4 billion checkbook and more enthusiasm than a Death Star technician after a coffee break. And everything changed.

Act I: The Pre-Disney Golden Age

Ah, the good old days, when George Lucas, with all his quirks, reigned supreme. Sure, Lucas gave us the prequels, which were about as subtle as a bantha in a china shop, but there was a vision there—an ambition, a scope, a sense of world-building that stretched far beyond a merchandise catalog. The original trilogy was mythic, bold, and daring. It gave us lines like “I am your father” that still echo in the halls of pop culture. Darth Vader was the ultimate bad guy, Princess Leia was the OG rebel with a cause, and Han Solo—well, he shot first, okay?

Even in the prequels, clunky dialogue and CGI overload aside, there were moments of sheer brilliance. Duel of the Fates? Still one of the greatest cinematic fight sequences of all time. The fall of Anakin Skywalker? Heartbreaking in its inevitability. Say what you want about Lucas, but the man was trying to weave a grand narrative tapestry, complete with political intrigue, moral ambiguity, and actual character development. The fight choreography? Like a ballet of badassery. And the Force—oh, the Force! It was mystical, mysterious, a power beyond comprehension.

But then came the Great Corporate Merger of 2012. And with it, a new dawn for the Star Wars saga—a dawn shaped by algorithms, focus groups, and the omnipresent shadow of the Disney empire.

Act II: The Post-Disney Era – A New Hope… For Shareholders

Enter Disney, stage left, wielding the power of nostalgia like a Sith Lord with a marketing MBA. At first, fans were hopeful. After all, Disney had some wins under their belt. They promised us a new trilogy, fresh spin-offs, and a chance to rediscover our favorite galaxy far, far away. But what did we get? A soulless parade of reboots, rehashes, and retreads, all designed to hit us right in the feels—and more importantly, right in the wallet.

“The Force Awakens,” they called it. More like “A New Hope Rebooted.” Sure, it was shiny, fast-paced, and full of cute droids, but let’s be real: it was basically a greatest hits compilation of the original trilogy, remixed for a new generation. Remember that Death Star? Meet Starkiller Base—it’s like a Death Star but bigger! Luke Skywalker training on a distant planet? Here’s Rey, but with 90% more “mysterious backstory.” The result? An entertaining spectacle that played it so safe it made Ewoks look like edge-lords.

Then came “The Last Jedi,” which tried to be bold and subversive but ended up more like a moody teenager rebelling against curfew. Rian Johnson decided to throw the entire rulebook out the window, but without a solid replacement. Suddenly, the Force could do anything, from astral projection to making people act like complete idiots for the sake of “subverting expectations.” Remember when lightsaber duels were about precision and skill? Now, they’re about throwing things around and hoping for the best.

Oh, and let’s not forget “The Rise of Skywalker,” a film so desperate to please that it felt like watching a focus group explode in real-time. Palpatine’s back! Why? Because reasons. Rey is a Palpatine! Why? Because drama. The final battle? A jumbled mess of CGI noise where stakes felt lower than the number of porgs in a KFC bucket. And don’t even get me started on the kiss. Who needed that? Anyone? Bueller?

Act III: Disney+ and the Infinite Spin-Offs

Of course, Disney couldn’t stop at a mere trilogy. Oh no, they had to build an empire of spin-offs! Enter “The Mandalorian,” which, to its credit, actually gave us something fresh—Baby Yoda (sorry, Grogu). It felt like a Western, had a solid story, and wasn’t afraid to take its time. It was proof that Disney could do something right… if it stayed miles away from the main saga.

But then came the deluge. “The Book of Boba Fett,” which somehow managed to make the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter about as intimidating as a Jawa with a rubber band. “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” which took a beloved character and made him play hide-and-seek across Tatooine. “Ahsoka,” which was… well, at least it was better than the others, but the Force help us if Disney decides to give Jar Jar his own series next.

Conclusion: The Verdict

So where does that leave us, fellow travelers of the hyperspace lanes? Pre-Disney “Star Wars” was a saga with flaws, sure, but it was a saga that dared to dream. It swung for the fences, even if it occasionally struck out. It was a labor of love, a creation of a singular vision—even if that vision included Jar Jar Binks. Post-Disney “Star Wars” is a corporate behemoth, a juggernaut of merchandise and content designed to appeal to everyone and offend no one. It’s a slick, polished product, but it lacks the soul, the daring, the mystique that made “Star Wars” a legend in the first place.

So here’s to hoping that, somewhere in the vast reaches of the Disney boardroom, there’s someone willing to take a risk, to go back to what made “Star Wars” special: storytelling with heart, with purpose, with a sense of wonder. Until then, may the Force—whatever that means nowadays—be with us all.