When you enter Disney’s Hollywood Studios on May 4th, something changes. Members of the cast wearing Rebel insignia give guests with lightsaber pins a knowing nod. Families wait in line outside the Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Wearing matching Mandalorian cloaks that they obviously spent weeks putting together, they run an hour before it opens. There is a low hum of shared happiness that is more akin to a convention combined with a religious festival than a trip to a theme park. It’s difficult to ignore the fact that none of this zeal appears to be lifted from a recent film.
It’s worth taking a moment to sit with that tension. Disney’s first theatrical Star Wars movie in seven years, “The Mandalorian and Grogu,” debuted at $167 million worldwide over Memorial Day weekend 2026, the lowest opening in the franchise’s history. In just two weekends, it dropped to third place at the domestic box office, surpassed by an A24 project inspired by a YouTube channel and a horror movie that cost about a million dollars. These figures are not insignificant for a franchise that Disney purchased for $4 billion in 2012. The question of whether Star Wars is still a successful movie is beginning to take shape.
However, May 4th, that clever, pun-based fan holiday centered around the phrase “May the force be with you,” has never felt more vibrant. Fans began riffing on the catchphrase soon after the 1977 release of the original movie, which is where the date originates. It even made an appearance in a British political advertisement commemorating Margaret Thatcher’s election victory in 1979. For many years, it was the kind of inside joke that characterized early internet fandom culture. Disney then became involved.
Disney eventually leaned into May 4th with merchandise drops, special screenings, and—most importantly—immersive experiences at its parks after realizing it was a marketing opportunity rather than a fan oddity after acquiring Lucasfilm. Fans now have a physical destination thanks to Galaxy’s Edge, a 14-acre Star Wars land that opened at Disneyland and Hollywood Studios in 2019. Star Wars Day evolved from a social media phenomenon to a destination event.
It’s a clever way for fans to show their love for the franchise once a year, according to Steve Sansweet, founder of Rancho Obi-Wan, a nonprofit organization in California that houses the largest collection of Star Wars memorabilia in the world. Although that is true, it might be an understatement of what is truly taking place. On May 4th, these parks provide more than just nostalgia and merchandise—they offer a sense of community. It turns out that community is more resilient than any one movie.
This might be precisely what occurs when a franchise goes too far with its cinematography. Audiences become guardians of the things they once cherished. The holiday is still theirs even though the movies become inconsistent and occasionally even draining. The joke is not disappointing. Because of the lightsaber effects, the park still smells like popcorn and burnt ozone. Your Ahsoka t-shirt is recognized by a stranger wearing a Boba Fett helmet, who nods as if you were old friends.
The author of “How Star Wars Conquered the Universe,” Chris Taylor, refers to himself as a “May the 4th grinch,” in part due to the commercialization of the once-underground joke. His doubts are not irrational. On May 4th, companies like Jameson Whiskey and Nissan now publish themed content. One recent May, the pastor and members of a Protestant congregation in western Germany dressed up for a Star Wars-themed service. The holiday has expanded far beyond the original planners’ expectations.
However, in this instance, sprawl may be proof of something real rather than fake. In comparison to original stories that audiences seem genuinely crave, the movies are finding it difficult to maintain multiplex attention. Families are still scheduling flights to Orlando for May 4th. It seems that the theme parks now have the power, and it’s unclear when or if the films will take it back.
