He does all the voices

Fanzines, fan sites, fan films... One of the characteristics of geeks that best defines us and distinguishes us from society as a whole is that we are active consumers of pop culture. Geeks don’t veg out in front of the boob tube, at least not as a way of life -- for us, the experiences of TV, film, books, graphic novels, and games are not merely receptive. Even if we don’t produce fan fiction, for instance, we watch and rewatch our favorite shows and analyze them, hash over the plotlines and the character interactions either on our own or with other fans. We refuse to be force-fed pop culture -- we may eat it, but we do so in full awareness of what we’re consuming. We challenge what we consume, turn it around and upside down and attempt to figure out what it’s all about, or at the very least, why we think it’s cool enough to even warrant so much attention in the first place.

Which makes Charles Ross something of an übergeek. His stage show, One-Man Star Wars Trilogy, is the ultimate expression of the geeky experience of pop culture. The New York Times, in its review of the show, exudes the mix of cluelessness and condescension that has lately typified its discussion of anything remotely geeky (which is ironic, because the paper is allegedly attempting to reach the very audience it regularly disdains). The Times derides Ross’s audience as "composed largely of very intense-looking overgrown boys wearing Coke-bottle glasses and Darth Vader jerseys" in the same way that it never, ever characterizes the crowd at an NFL game as "a bunch of morons courting pneumonia by appearing shirtless and painted in team colors in below-freezing temperatures." It pointlessly insults Ross himself -- "who reportedly has a girlfriend, although she may be the victim of a Jedi mind trick" -- in the same way that it never, ever characterizes the performers of an off-Broadway production as "a bunch of theater nerds who mistake overenunciation for acting and bland prettiness for presence."

But most egregiously, the Times reviewer misses the point of Ross’s performance entirely:

The energetic Mr. Ross, who cannot be faulted for lack of effort, is a mediocre performer, especially when compared with the many brilliant quick-change artists in the crowded field of multicharacter solo shows. There's not a trace of smooth Billy Dee Williams in his Lando Calrissian, and his Princess Leia could be confused with a man. No one expects him to have the baritone of James Earl Jones, but there were a couple of potheads in my freshman dorm who did a better Darth Vader.

As I point out in my review of the show at FlickFilosopher.com:

This isn't about perfect impersonation of famous actors; it's emphatically not about watching Ross and seeing Sir Alec Guinness or Mark Hamill; it's about watching Ross and seeing ourselves. Ross holds up a mirror to our own geekitude and shows us how silly and how wonderful a healthy grownup playfulness can be.

Naturally, I have a lot more to say about the show. Check it out.