Speaking of astute film analysis, in my research I stumbled upon The New Yorker’s original review of ‘Star Wars’ from 1977. Penelope Gilliatt:
No sci-fi film—not even a sci-fi film set long ago—being complete without a robot and a computer, there is a gold-plated robot who walks as if his feet hurt, like a primal woman shopper, and an overweight computer who is a mixture of bald pate, traffic lights, and mailbox, and who transmits rapid information in a language that evokes Eskimo. The computer is the robot’s dearest and most irritating companion.
It’s hard to imagine a world where this film was quite so unfamiliar.