FUTURE generations will never need to establish a George Lucas museum, because George Lucas has already built one for himself. On either side of the Golden Gate Bridge he has constructed himself two temples where "Star Wars" is made and worshiped: at his Skywalker Ranch in Marin County and his newer office complex, the Letterman Digital Arts Center at the Presidio, he has gathered all manner of relics honoring his six-film saga, from the imposing (life-size replicas of the villains Darth Vader and Boba Fett) to the self-congratulatory (a Yoda fountain) to the self-deprecating (a carbonite block encasing the much loathed Jar Jar Binks).
Like religious shrines, these buildings both consecrate and confine the man for whom they were built.
Using the freedom and the fortune he has amassed largely on the astronomical success of "Star Wars," Mr. Lucas has accumulated unparalleled creative resources; his next film could be anything from a sweeping epic to one of the intimate personal narratives he has often said he would like to make. Instead his next two ventures will be "Star Wars" projects, no less ambitious than his previous films yet potentially less commercial. And they come at a time when even the "Star Wars" faithful wonder if Mr. Lucas's continued mining of this fantasy world has anything more to yield.