How Star Wars Created A Halloween Crisis In 1977
George Lucas' "Star Wars" is easily the most underestimated movie ever made.
When Lucas closed a deal with 20th Century Fox chief Alan Ladd Jr. in June 1973 to write and direct the space opera, he was two months away from hitting the box-office jackpot with his nostalgia-fueled classic "American Graffiti." And while Lucas was a part of the New Hollywood revolution on the strength of "THX 1138" alone, he wasn't interested in making thematically/stylistically provocative films like William Friedkin, Francis Ford Coppola, and Martin Scorsese. He just wanted to tell stories, one of which happened to be an intergalactic saga inspired by the escapist adventures of his youth.
No one got it. So when "Star Wars" turned into the biggest cinematic phenomenon since "Gone with the Wind," just about everyone who made money off the motion picture industry was caught flat-footed. In many cases, the demand for anything related to "Star Wars" far outpaced what could be supplied. For example, as the holidays approached, toy manufacturer Kenner had to furnish stores with vouchers for action figures that wouldn't be available until well after the new year.
The toy shortfall was presaged two months earlier when parents had to break the tragic news to their kids that if they wanted to go as Darth Vader for Halloween, the costume would have to be a homemade creation. Because while costume companies had acquired the rights to produce "Star Wars" get-ups, they were woefully underprepared for the consumers' ravenous appetite for anything tied to that galaxy far, far away.
No one could foresee how Star Wars would take off
Manufacturer Don Post Studios was the go-to if you wanted a quality, mass-produced mask of Chewbacca, Darth Vader, C-3PO or a Stormtrooper. But as Post told The St. Louis Post-Dispatch in October 1977, he was overwhelmed. "I can't make most of my Halloween deliveries," he said. "In fact, I'm sold out now through Christmas, but most of the merchants say they'll take the 'Star Wars' masks no matter when I deliver them." Still, Post lamented missing out on an even bigger seasonal windfall. "If I had 100,000 'Star Wars' masks in this room now, I could sell them all," he said. "How could I know the movie would take off like this?"
For less discriminating trick-or-treaters (i.e. elementary school kids), there were always the Ben Cooper costume-in-a-box offerings, which consisted of a cheap plastic mask (affixed to one's skull via a stapled-on rubber band) and an even cheaper, easily tearable plastic onesie that vaguely approximated the character's outfit. Ben Cooper only made outfits for Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader and C-3PO, and these, too, were difficult to find after early October. (Honestly, the big story here is why no one anticipated the massive appeal for Han Solo; Princess Leia should've been a no-brainer, but this was 1977, when girls were supposed to dress up as princesses or witches or stay the hell home).
Some savvy/shameless businesses addressed the "Star Wars" costume shortage via pricey rentals (a Darth Vader mask could be obtained for $50), but that was out of the question for most people. In the absence of store-bought costumes, parents and kids had to improvise. In doing so, they helped to mainstream the act of cosplaying in the United States.
With the right combination of household items, you, too, could be Darth Vader
What the DIY "Star Wars" costumes of Halloween 1977 lacked in flashiness, they more than made up for in ingenuity. The internet is loaded with adorable instances of kids using whatever they could find in their garages and basements to slap together serviceable Darth Vader or Stormtrooper costumes (I speak from experience that children with checked-out parents could turn a fluorescent lightbulb into an extraordinarily dangerous lightsaber). Luke, Leia, Han and Obi-Wan were much easier to pull off.
I was born in 1973, and while my parents weren't above throwing me into a one-and-done Ben Cooper outfit during my single-digit years, by the time I got to 4th grade or so, my classmates were putting genuine, homemade effort into their Halloween costumes. It's also worth noting that a year after the release of "Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi," it was exceedingly rare to see anyone dress up as a character from that universe. People are fickle. In 1984, you went as Indiana Jones or a Ghostbuster. The next year was all about Marty McFly or Axel Foley.
50 years later, when I encounter young trick-or-treaters, I'm struck by the total absence of store-bought masks. I love this. And I don't know that Americans would've entertained this option without the "Star Wars" costume shortage of 1977.