#starcruiser

[nocternalrandomness]

Imperial Star Destroyer

[twofoxes]

trying out different kinds of coloring in prep for smth

[hayleysayshay]

I searched 'Starcruiser' on twitter because I wanted to see if anyone else had any stories of being at the Star Wars Hotel but I didn't want to see biased fan subreddits.

Anyway I saw an Erika Ishii post from August 2023, a month before it closed, that they went to the Starcruiser, and apparently enjoyed it. And then I was thinking back to what Jenny Nicholson said about how they should have targeted adult DnD- type fans who go to cons and have money to spare. And they had a professional roleplayer go and like it, so think of what they could have done if they tapped into roleplaying geekdom in comparison to their usual disney adult targeting. But yeah this was a month before it closed so it was far too late.

[chernobog13]

The crew of the C-57D hold a funeral on Altair lV for Chief Engineer Quinn, from Forbidden Planet (1956).

[nukenai]

My sister sent me this and I thought it was just a beautiful picture of the Sublight Lounge but no. It's a picture my friend got of me absolutely fucking raiding the bowl of oranges on our last day. LOLLLL

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: The Star Wars Hotel

I listened to an episode of the podcast Into A Larger World this morning. The guest, Nick, discussed how much of the public response to Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser was based on misconceptions about what the Starcruiser actually was.

"Calling the Galactic Starcruiser a hotel would be like calling a car a chair," he said. "You sit in it, sure. But that's not why you buy a car."

I've made a few TikToks of clips from my voyage on the Starcruiser, and every once in a while, someone leaves a comment on TikTok or on the reel version of it on Instagram, saying something along the lines of, "$6000 for this?"

I delete these comments. I don't feel like engaging with them. But there's a part of me that wants to say, "Of course not. This is a sixty-second video. Nobody paid that much for merely sixty seconds of just watching. What's the point of saying something like that? What do you get out of believing that you know everything you need to know about a two-day immersive experience from this silly little video I threw together in a futile yet necessary attempt to convey - to celebrate - even a fraction of what this experience meant to me and to everyone else who was a part of it?"

I don't have much footage of my time on the Halcyon. For the first six months of my Starcruiser journey, I was a show writer on the project. Playtests had only just begun, and photos and videos were forbidden. I couldn't tell anyone about this thing we were building together, how much love we were pouring into it, how much hope we had that the world would love it, too.

I then spent a year watching from afar while guests discovered the Halcyon. While they built relationships with the characters. While they realized just how much was always going on, just out of sight. While they ate the food and dressed to fit the world and came up with their own backstories. While they became the heroes of their own Star Wars story. And they loved it. They loved it. I marveled at the knowledge that there was fanfiction, there was fanart, there were return visitors making the journey again and again, the journey I truly never thought I would make once - especially not once it was announced that the ship would close.

My friend Shelby reached out to me, with literally two weeks warning, that they'd found a room. I dipped into my savings account. And, no, I didn't spend $6000. There were five people in our cabin; I spent less than $1300, even with the merchandise I couldn't help but grab. $1300 for a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience this show as a guest, to truly see what had come of it.

I was determined not to metagame. I would not ask the performers for anything, even though I knew most of them. I would not use my pre-knowledge to seek out fun moments - though of course I made sure that my party was looking in the right direction to see Chewbacca enter the dining room, 'cause that's just me being a good friend. I was ready to have fun. I expected to have fun.

I did not expect to be completely blown away.

I've said this before, and I'm sure I'll say it again. One of the most important things to me as a writer is that I create shows that not only are loved by the audience but also by the people involved in bringing the show to life. When I hear an actor laugh while reading a script I wrote, that fills me with joy. When a stage manager thanks me for making sure they have all the information they need on time, I feel like I've done something right. Back in 2018, when I got to bring my parents to see some of the work I'd done for the Incredible Tomorrowland Expo, one of the improv performers ran up to my dad, grabbed him by the arm, and said, "Did you know she's a writer?? You should be so proud!" - and I almost cried.

When I set foot on the Halcyon as a guest, I did not know that I was actually about to experience two days straight of love. Throughout that two day show, every very little thing that every operations crewmember and performer did screamed, "I love this! I love this! I'm giving it my all!" After a year and a half of nigh-on constant performances, through the exhaustion and the stress and the internet hate and the uncertainty about the future, they were still pouring everything they had, every ounce of love, into that show. And I felt that love washing over me in every moment.

It meant the most coming from the performers. Again, I didn't ask them for anything. I told them I would be there and that my crew and I were ready to play. I went in-character, as Shira the mechanic, prepared to pretend I didn't know them.

But they kept dropping hints that they knew me.

The first time I saw Lenka, my crew was already talking to her. My friend Andrew pointed me out, and said, "She's a mechanic." Without missing a beat, Lenka replied, "Yes, I remember, she helped fix the ship after the pirate attack a few months back. It's wonderful to see you again."

Good fortune put us in the right place and the right time to greet Gaya as she came onboard the ship (yay bridge training!). She smiled at me and my friend Shelby and said, "These two look familiar. Now what are you calling yourself these days?"

On the second day, when it came time for the heist, Raithe gave me a job I would have begged for (and, again, I didn't! I wouldn't!). He put his hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, "I know I can trust you. I know you understand what's going on here, possibly better than anyone."

And afterwards, when the heist was a success, when I'd handed the gem to Gaya, Raithe looked at me with actual tears in his eyes and thanked me.

And I said, my voice shaking, "I am so honored to have been a part of making this story."

That's a clip I do have. I'm so grateful to Justin, the man who filmed it and shared his footage with me afterwards (and to Shelby, Shannon, Lauren, Sean, Andrew, and Wendy for the photos and videos they took throughout the trip, too). As soon as the moment had passed, I'd already forgotten what any of us had said. It was truly that emotional. The performers understood why, and so did my crew. But the most incredible thing is that that moment meant something even to the people in the room who didn't understand the full meaning of my words. Three different strangers came up to me later that evening, separately, to tell me so - to thank me, even. One of them asked me if this was my first voyage.

"First as a guest," I replied.

This was the middle of August. I'm still riding the high of that show. I am normally a very anxious artist, full of so-called "imposter syndrome." But two days straight of love and validation and pure play will do something to your brain.

$6000 for this? What wouldn't I pay for this?

Even now - even today, September 28th, 2023 - as I type this blog post, the passengers on the final voyage of the Galactic Starcruiser have already boarded, and in less than half an hour, the performers will join them. Less than two days from now, this journey will be over. But I can't believe that this is the end. The end of this show, yes - all shows end, and many before their time. But not the end of the emotion, not the end of the love, not the end of the storytelling and the joy and the play and the together-as-one. I can't believe that. Because this was something that you can't put a price tag on, something that you can't sum up in as simple and easily-mocked as the phrase "the Star Wars hotel," and, frankly, it's silly to try.

We journeyed boldly. We cherished the moment. We made something worth celebrating and remembering. And we will do it again.

To the Halcyon, and to all who made her fly - Ta'bu e tay!

[pastel-kaleesh]

them in a nutshell

INSPO

[loveleetoons]

The Halcyon's 2 year birthday was on Friday (I think). I only did one journey on the Halcyon and its def an experience I won't soon forget.

Here are some wips from back in September that I never got around finishing.

Gaya left such a strong impact on my soul. I was dressed as a fellow Twi'lek. Gaya would create such strong eye contact with me when she was in the room or performing.

I'm not sure if other passengers got their soul looked at by Gaya. But as a fellow Twi'lek, I felt more connected to the story and the universe thanks to Gaya's actor.

Anyways I'm going to listen to Hayananeya on repeat.

[sapphellroan]

what do you MEAN an attraction that cost over 1k a night for five days (5k+ total) didn’t do well and under performed at disney and is now closing????? (starcruiser) truly shocked! (not shocked)

[roguish-raithe-kole]

Such a huge fan of Starcruiser, I made a Tumblr!

Was lucky enough to go on a voyage on GS in August 2022, and planning a new voyage now (after getting an extra gig and matching up with a lot of other superfans to afford to go!) I went into my trip expecting to go hardcore Resistance, but ended up falling in love with the scoundrel path when Raithe Kole recruited me, so I had to play tribute to my favorite conflicted, charming, good-hearted-if-not-self-serving smuggler. Hoping to meet some other Starcruiser fans on here, and always down to write if people are keen! Also happy to answer any questions at any level of spoilers vs non spoilers if folks haven’t been on the ship yet and have burning inquiries about this unique interactive theatre experience.

I’ll be going as an OC Twi’lek smuggler captain next time on Galactic Starcruiser, and already am working on my cosplay!

[aleatoryw]

the reason Jenny Nicholson's review of the starcruiser hotel is so damning imo is that she went in completely non-cynically. if you've watched her previous videos it's apparent she loves both star wars and theme parks; she's basically the ideal customer for an experience like this. she was clearly trying to engage with the story elements and experience everything the trip had to offer, she likes kitschy animatronics and special effects - and she still had such a bad time! it's blatantly obvious the actual customer experience was an afterthought to things that would make good photo ops and tiktoks, and the whole trip relied on the functionality of an app that seems thrown together last minute. as someone who also loves star wars and theme parks, it's a real let down - but this is basically what disney has been doing since they bought the star wars ip, so I guess I'm not surprised.

[the-uncanny-dag]

Screenshots of favourite comments on Jenny Nicholson's Star Wars hotel video in no particular order

[chernobog13]

On the bridge of the Enterprise C-57D Starcruiser from Forbidden Planet (1956).

[nukenai]

Eternally thinking about driving somewhere with my roommate, and a Gaya song came on. He looked at the screen in my car and went "That's your friend, right?" 🥺🥺🥺 my friend, galactic superstar Gaya...

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Playing the Best Version of Myself

I’m not intending to permanently turn this blog series into a “Sophie listens to podcasts and talks about the Starcruiser” thing, but… this week I found myself once again listening to a podcast episode about Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. It was The No Proscenium Podcast this time, and the episode was titled “Last Call at the Sublight Lounge.” One of the panelists, Kathryn, said the following about Halcyon passengers:

“I believe that a lot of the people on the ship were roleplaying that idealized version of themselves… Maybe you’re braver, bolder, more confident, more willing to stand up for what you believe in. Maybe it’s a version of yourself that you want to wish into being, but you’ve never had a chance to articulate it before.”

Funnily enough, this wasn’t the first time I’ve heard someone express this idea about the Starcruiser. On the final night of the show, I met up with a bunch of the performers after closing time. Emotions were running high, understandably, but a lot of those emotions were positive. There was so much love and gratitude in that space – for each other, and for what we had created and accomplished. Everyone kept talking about how much we’d grown because of the Starcruiser. Late in the evening, one of the performers attributed that growth to how we’d created a space where everyone who participated, everyone who came to play, could come be “the best version of yourself” – and playing as the best version of yourself changes you forever.

It gave me pause, when that performer said it, and I’m thinking about it further after hearing Kathryn bring it up again – because when I entered the Starcruiser as a guest, I didn’t think I was playing the best or idealized version of myself. I fully intended to not be myself. Sophie Katz knew too much about the Halcyon and its characters. I spent six months running around that ship, making sure that everyone else knew everything they needed to know about where to be, why they were there, and what to do while they were there. The beats of the whole two-day show are imprinted on my brain. So I thought that in order to have fun, and to avoid ruining anyone else’s fun with metagaming, I had to separate my guest-self from my writer-self.

Shira Alderaani Khesed was a character I made up almost two years ago. I wrote a poem about the destruction of Alderaan in Star Wars, and afterwards I fleshed out the character behind that first-person perspective. She was a woman without a homeworld, the daughter of Alderaanians who just happened to be off planet on their honeymoon when the Empire destroyed their lives. And as far as I could tell before my voyage, playing Shira would be about as far from acting as my real self as I could get without outright sacrificing my morals. Shira was a mechanic; she’d never had the good fortune to be able to pursue art as a career. She was cynical and cowardly, weighed down by the trauma she’d inherited and unable to imagine a better future – in direct contrast to my real-world optimism. She didn’t have a family or community to support her; her late parents kept her intentionally ignorant of her culture, believing that would protect her from her people’s genocide – unlike my real-life parents, wonderful and alive, who raised me to take pride in my culture. I wouldn’t have called Shira my ideal self; I certainly wouldn’t wish to be her or live her life!

I thought I’d successfully separated my real self from my Starcruiser-self.

But the performers on my voyage were quick to prove me wrong.

I mentioned last week that some of the performers dropped hints that they knew me. Gaya said I looked familiar. Raithe said he knew I understood what was going on better than anyone. Lenka outright added a bit to my backstory, saying she remembered how I helped repair the ship before this voyage.

There’s another example of this that I should mention now.

Captain Keevan’s path did not cross much with mine, but at one point late on the first day, I was standing with a friend in the lower concourse when the captain came out of the dining room. She approached us and asked how we were doing, mentioning she’d heard that I’d had some issues with Sammie the mechanic. I responded in character, explaining that Sammie had asked me to do something that I wasn’t comfortable with (lying to First Order Stormtroopers, which from Shira’s cautious-and-cynical point of view was a good way to get killed).

The captain told me that I shouldn’t have to do anything that made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Half joking, I looked at my friend and said, “Does that mean telling my friends to not sing anti-First Order fight songs?” (Which, yes, is another thing that happened. Video evidence here. Sophie loved that scene; Shira did not.)

“Well,” said Captain Keevan, “something like that could be a useful distraction, at times. I find that some people work well on the front lines, and their actions make it possible for others to do the important work they need to do in the background.”

“I do well in the background,” I said.

And she smiled and replied, “And I know you’re good at keeping things on schedule.”

As she walked away, I realized something about Shira. I’d thought that by making her a mechanic, I was making her unlike me. I’m not a hands-on hard-science building-things sort of person. I’d even been a bit nervous that someone might ask me something technical that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

But as Lenka had pointed out, as a mechanic, Shira was someone who had helped prepare the ship for this voyage. And as Captain Keevan had pointed out, Shira was someone who worked well in the background, supporting the people who were visible on the front lines.

In other words, Shira was the me I aspire to be, as a professional creative writer – not the person in the spotlight, but the person who makes it possible for other people to do well in the spotlight. The person who builds the world, who takes care of the details in the background, and who, if I’m doing my job right, goes unnoticed. You don’t notice a mechanic unless something breaks; when things go smoothly, you praise the captain. Similarly, you don’t notice a writer unless the dialogue is bad; when shows make you laugh and cry, you praise the actors and directors. That’s how it is. That’s the space I work well in and take pride in. Sure, I want people to know what I can do, and I want to get credit when I do a good job – so that I can continue to do this work that I love and make a living with it. I don’t dream about being a big flashy hero with crowds chanting my name. I want to be quietly essential.

I realized that Shira had an opportunity here – to learn to be that quiet, essential background player.

And as the show progressed, moments kept coming up that developed her story in that direction. When Lt. Croy ordered that a restraining bolt be put on beloved droid SK-620, Shira whispered to Sammie that he needed to go through it, despite the boos of the crowd, to keep the ship safe. The next day, Shira helped lure Lt. Croy and the stormtroopers downstairs to give Lenka and Saja Fen a chance to rescue SK. During the heist, Shira didn’t get one of the many “noisy distraction” jobs; instead, Raithe secretly passed Shira the gem, and she stood far away from the action, quietly keeping it safe while Captain Keevan ordered Raithe to turn out his pockets. Moment by moment, act by act, decision by decision, Shira was learning how much of an impact she could have on the galaxy from the background, even if – perhaps even because – most people didn’t know she was there doing the work that needed to be done.

Everything culminated in a scene that caught me off guard just as much in reality as in character. Shira wound up in the middle of the atrium, with a whole crowd of people’s eyes on her, telling Lt. Croy a series of objectively terrible lies.

It would be impossible for me to exaggerate how uncomfortable I am with improv. I’m fine with public speaking – I’m honestly pretty good at it – but I always prepare a lot in advance. If you’ve ever heard me say something cool, it’s because I spent at least ten minutes beforehand planning it out. I did not plan for this moment. And so, in that moment, even though I objectively knew that no real-world harm would come to me, my fear and Shira’s were one and the same. All I wanted to do was run away.

But I didn’t run away. I kept talking – babbling, really – because I had to keep Croy’s attention on me, so he wouldn’t turn around and see Raithe sneaking up to the mezzanine to steal the coaxium. Because that’s what Shira would have done, after everything she’d been through on that ship. She would play her part. She would make it possible for other people to do the more obviously important and visible job. And, as soon as the job was done and it was safe to do so, she would run away… straight towards Raithe, who promptly handed her the suitcase of coaxium. He knew he could trust her with it.

And me? I want to be trusted. I want to be someone that people can rely on. I may not literally want to be Shira Alderaani Khesed, but I want to have the kind of impact she had on the story unfolding around her, just by being me, hard at work in the background. Building worlds, preparing experiences, and keeping everyone around me on schedule. Relied on and appreciated by the people who matter most. Quietly essential to a life-changing experience, and given the chance to be so again, and again, and again. That’s the best version of me.

You wanna know the best part? Those two days I spent as Shira was not the only chance I had to be that best version of me. I now understand that the role that Shira played on the Halcyon was the role I played with Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. I see it now more clearly than ever before. We don’t often get the chance to see ourselves so clearly, and I am so grateful to this cast for helping me see. They gave me such a gift. They gave everyone who set foot on that ship the gift of getting to be – and to learn that we are – our best selves.

I know what I can do for others – for a creative team, for an audience, for the world. I want nothing more than to do it again, and again, and again.

Let’s do it again, together.

[pastel-kaleesh]

Introducing the crew of the Phoenix Starcruiser, Captain Maari, Kali, Kai, Jae, and Saya!

The aurebesh says "Phoenix Starcruiser" and I wanted to do something different for these sequel era characters and give them an oldies sci-fi feel. Well, first time Star Tours thought of the idea of using an organic crew with silly uniforms instead of droids hehe