Susan, the kids, and I made a whirlwind trip to Denver this weekend to attend a wedding. Due to the timing I didn’t expect to be able to see Solo: A Star Wars Story until we got back, which would have broken my streak of seeing every Star Wars film since 1980’s The Empire Strikes Back opening day. Due to a a stroke of luck (or was it the Force?) the house we rented for the weekend was right down the street from an Alamo Drafthouse movie theater, and, somehow, Susan was able to obtain four tickets for a Saturday morning showing of Solo.

For those unfamiliar, Alamo Drafthouse is a chain of movie theaters that prides themselves in offering the best possible experience to movie goers. The audio and video quality are top notch, the chairs are comfortable, they serve food and drinks, and perhaps most important of all, they have a zero tolerance for people talking or using their cell phones during their films. First time offenders receive a warning; get caught a second time and you’ll be escorted from the theater to the lobby without receiving a refund. Nothing ruins the moving-going experience more quickly for me than than people making noise or playing on their phone in a dark theater. There are only two dozen Alamo Drafthouse theaters across the country, and unfortunately the nearest ones to me are in the Dallas area. If there were one in Oklahoma City, I’d go every weekend.

In the lobby of the theater was a cardboard mock up of the Millennium Falcon’s cockpit. In the movies, the Falcon exists in a perpetual state of repair, held together with duct tape and a bit of luck. The cardboard version, even on opening weekend, wasn’t in much better shape. The steering yolk on one side had already fallen off and been neatly stowed next to the pilot’s seat. Like the version that appears in the film, it took a well placed smack with my fist to get the lights to turn on. As fun as it was to pose for a couple of pictures inside the thing, if anyone was counting on this version to get them past an Imperial blockade, they had better hope there’s a plan B.

Once we found our seats, we were treated to 15-20 minutes of Star Wars clips prepared by the Alamo Drafthouse. There were vintage Kenner Star Wars commercials, other characters they thought deserved their own one-off anthology film (I would totally go see a Nien Numb film!), and this hilarious clip in which Alamo employees were tasked to draw a Stormtrooper helmet from memory.

Right on time, the film started. Steering far from spoilers, I’ll just say that the film was good. I didn’t think it necessarily raised the franchise to new heights, nor did I think it hurt its reputation as some before it have. It’s an origin story, and many fans (like myself) are already familiar with many of the legends. Pretty much everything from Han’s past that has been alluded to in any of the other films is addressed here. I’ve seen people refer to Solo online as a “space western,” and they’re not wrong; from “putting the gang together” to “pulling off the heist” and figuring out just who to trust, if one were to remove the steady stream of Star Wars references designed to placate even the most die hard fans, the plot itself could easily be recycled into a Saturday afternoon Western.

By the time the movie was over, a local retailer had set up tables full of Star Wars wares in the lobby, no doubt designed to take advantage of nostalgia stirred up by the film. Morgan, without being prompted, said, “Dad, I think you already have everything here.”

Once outside, we saw something else set up in the parking lot — the Millennium Falcon Experience. Unlike the cardboard version of Han Solo’s ship on display in the lobby, this was a detailed replica of the ship’s cockpit. Mason did some exploring and discovered that it was free to examine, so after a few minutes in line, the four of us were able to check it out.

Due to a growing crowd, we were limited to 60 seconds inside the cockpit — nowhere near enough time to flip all the switches, press all the buttons, examine all the lights and simply take in the beauty of the construction. I’m sure after five minutes the tape and wiring used to pull off the illusion would have fallen apart, but the minute I was in there went fast, and before I knew it we were being whisked back out the way we came.