Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser’s legacy and the community created by Interactive Performance
By Erica McCay
I attended a convention and ended up at a reunion.
Last October, 600 people gathered at a convention created to celebrate the now-closed interactive and immersive experience of Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. Formerly a 2-day journey aboard a spaceship named the Halcyon, the Starcruiser pulled from many existing interaction types—grand spectacle shout-outs, intimate moments between characters and guests, mobile app choices that influence in-person events, quests, physical activities, hidden references to the wider intellectual property, multiple storylines, exquisite dining, a highly themed bar—and brought them together in a way that continues to impact the industry.
Intimate moments between characters and guests on the Halcyon. Photos courtesy of the author.
Being on the Halcyon transformed every person in different, and deep, ways. And even after the premature closure, it still does. It spawned fan meetups from gatherings in the Disney parks to a charity marathon to a group sailing aboard the Wish ocean cruise ship. For those who never voyaged on the fictional star liner, the experience can be difficult to describe. And that, perhaps, is a reason why former passengers—plus actors, crew members, chemists (bar tenders), and chefs—chose to fly in from around the world for a two-day convention.
Packed room for “The Stars We are Building in the Galaxy: Exploring the Future of Immersive Entertainment” session. Photo courtesy of the author.
Put on by the Heroes of the Halcyon podcast and friends, the convention cleverly titled Halcy-Con embodies the messages of the Starcruiser storyline: hope, understanding, and sharing one galaxy. It is a fan event that lovingly embraces everyone, whether they cruised 10 times or zero, all are welcome.
It’s hard to explain.
Upon arrival at the Wyndham lobby, I sat next to a seemingly stoic man on the couch. When I mentioned being here for Halcy-Con, a smile spread across his face. He shared his excitement for the convention where he would get to be around other passengers again because “people [who never voyaged] don’t get it when I explain it.”
There are many reviews that have attempted to describe Starcruiser, as well as forthcoming documentaries. A recent video by Double Crit Fail does a great job of capturing the experience through the lens of tabletop roleplaying game mechanics and summarizes the experience as: “From thrilling heists to emotional moments of friendship, adventure, and love, the Starcruiser wasn’t just about Star Wars—it was about the power of storytelling, the relationships we build, the lessons we carry with us, and what it means to say goodbye to something so special.”
However, what it really was is subjective to every person who experienced it. This same phenomenon happens with most interactive theatre productions because, often purposefully, they impact each person in an individual way. There is the list of components, like listing each piece of the body, but then an intangible spirit brings those parts to life. The best interactive experiences share that spirit with everyone who encounters it.
Attendees of Halcy-Con yearned for the chance to reconnect with those who understand, and grieve the closure together. For some, that meant channeling their feelings into beautifully crafted wares for sale in the Vendor Hall or developing rich programming for fellow attendees, and for others, it was hugs and exchanges of swag. And many already knew each other, from shared voyages or online fan groups. I often overheard, “How long are you here? I’ve got that thing for you.”
Meeting new people at Halcy-Con was like mingling at a wedding with other guests and asking how they know the couple. For those who did not already know each other, the exchange would often begin in the same way: “How many cruises did you go on? What were the dates of your cruise(s)?” followed by stories and an exchange of swag personally made by the attendees either for their original voyages’ characters or as an item exclusive to this con.
When I asked Cherlon Mathias-Day, the creator of the “Space Camp Arts and Crafts” session and former Starcruiser passenger, what she was most looking forward to, she responded without hesitation: the people. “It was an emotional, shared experience and these are the only people that understand what it was.”
Mathias-Day and attendees connect during the “Space Camp Arts and Crafts” session. Photo courtesy of the author.
It’s collective.
Halcy-Con, like the Starcruiser, was designed to build community over time. On board the ship, a muster drill brought everyone to the atrium. Likewise, a “Muster” session started the official convention. On the ship, Bridge Training created camaraderie early, giving something for friends and strangers alike to do together in a space with set rules for a clear purpose: help the characters in need. At the convention, an entire room was themed and set up to be a Sabacc card game tournament, inviting attendees to mingle and raise funds for Sabacc for Charity and the non-profit Magic Wheelchair.
Each passenger on the Halcyon was connected by a shared experience, even if not at the same time. Because every voyage took place on the same day within the story timeline, even if no voyage was the same or had the same actors for each character, every passenger had a shared foundation of the experience. We all played together in the same playground.
And it was more than only actors and passengers that brought it to life. Gabi Fleury, Starcruiser passenger and AIPP member, reflected that, “This show was a powerhouse of immersive theatre – it almost seemed impossible that that level of creative and technical talent, Imagineering, customer service, culinary skills, script work and more could exist in one project. The people who were part of that team, both on and off stage, poured their hearts into every single moment.”
During Halcy-Con’s “Improv for Immersive Experiences” session, the facilitators emphasized that improv is a place free of judgement, where there are no mistakes. It’s a space to accept where we are, honor choices others make, and to collaborate and explore something new with other people. Whether open-ended or within a set framework like on Starcruiser, it’s a team sport. Every choice is a way of saying, “I got your back.” And Halcy-Con showed that that mindset extended beyond the experience itself.
It’s personal.
I create interactive and immersive experiences for work, but I did not work on Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser. I experienced it from the lens of a professional, a parent, and a guest. I voyaged three times on the Halcyon ship, the jewel of the fictional Chandrila Star Line.
The first voyage was July 2022, on what was meant to be a once-in-a-life-time trip while 9 months pregnant with my second child. My nearly 3-year-old youngling befriended a green alien named Ouannii, danced with galactic superstar Gaya, chased Stormtroopers, and found, and hid, Porgs all over the Engineering Room. He had been to space, and so had we. And we wanted to return as soon as we left.
The second trip was April 2023, with my now fully 3-year-old dressed as a droid joined by my 9-month-old Ewok. We created perhaps the only 9-months-in and 9-months-out set of photos on the Halcyon.
LEFT: 9-months in. RIGHT: 9-months out. Photos courtesy of the author.
In May of 2023, Gaya’s album was released, and my 3-year-old requested to listen to it, without exaggeration, every day. “Mommy, when can we go back to space?” Then the closure was announced. Through a lucky phone call, we were able to return one last time in July 2023, with my now 4-year-old droid and one-year old Ewok. The Starcruiser closed that September.
Baby attends Halcy-Con. Photo courtesy of the author.
Then in July of 2024, we had our third child, who had never been on the Halcyon. That shouldn’t feel like a loss, but it did. Something so transformational to our family occurred before he joined us. And I wasn’t the only one. Cherlon Mathias-Day also grieved the loss of being able to return with her son. “Such an emotional, intense experience, and I wasn’t going to be able to share it with the people that I loved.”
Thankfully in October of 2024, our new baby experienced the magic of the Starcruiser brought to life again by the community during Halcy-Con. My baby was in space, or in a space, with the heart of the Halcyon: the people.
It’s genuine.
The air was ripe with compassion as I squeezed into the corner and sank down onto the floor of a packed session dedicated to the ways the Starcuiser helped passengers deal with real life mental and physical health issues, loss, and trauma. Heartbreaking personal stories were shared with a reverence for the healing that took place because of participating in the Starcruiser experience. The response, in that room and throughout the convention, was inspiration, empathy, and unexpected surprises of genuine care for each other.
“Starcruiser people are the best people” was a sentiment repeated again and again, but also proven again and again. Grace and patience was enthusiastically given for any mishap in scheduling or logistics by shouting, “First year con!” There was continuous appreciation for attendees, for the volunteer Teal Team, and for the former Cast Members whether named actors or Blue Crew ship staff.
A former actor from Starcruiser attended Halcy-Con as a fan. They expressed how impactful their time performing was because guests would share vulnerable information that “sticks with an actor…it’s beautiful what was created onboard.” The actor cherished the moments when they could give guests their story back, weaving in the guest’s personal contributions into the bigger story moments.
When Kenneth Ingraham attended Halcy-Con to represent AIPP, he assumed it would feel like a convention where attendees’ priorities were to obtain a piece of the experience, get swag, see a panel, meet a person. He was surprised to discover it wasn’t like a normal convention at all — it was “open of spirit. A place mostly to share and connect.”
Cass Morris, one of the Halcy-Con organizers, reflected on traits of the attendees and the amount of care, respect, and intention from the community: “People are creative, and generous, and kind, and they all want to be here together, sharing an experience.”
No matter how fictional the world, characters, and story portrayed on the Starcruiser, the feelings were real. The ingredients all melded together. The story was about caring, every Cast Member cared, the environment was crafted with care; people were the heart of the experience.
The message of Starcruiser was hope. A story so rooted in kindness and support for the community that it became an unshakable one itself.
I found a real community in a fictional space.
Halcy-Con was wildly successful—it completely sold out in less than a day without any specifics on what the programming would be, just the trust that dedicated fans at the helm would create an experience worth returning for. And the team who organized it more than delivered, pouring countless hours and their own money into the dream of reuniting with fellow passengers and new friends.
Attendees celebrate a successful Halcy-Con. Photo courtesy of the author.
It felt like everyone knew each other, even if they had never met before. The amount of love and positivity was infectious. I had a fellow mother staying a couple rooms down bring me water and make herself available to help with the baby in the middle of the night. The trust was created through our shared experience.
The beautiful thing about putting out something open-ended and inviting people to participate is they feel ownership. It is their community. It is their spaceship. If you invite them in the right way, they will hold it sacred.
Gabi Fleury’s reflection on the Starcruiser experience resonates deeply with many in the community: “I’m so grateful I got to see myself in part of the Star Wars universe, if only for a little while. I’m so grateful for everything I learned as a passenger on ship, as an artist in real life, and for the friends I’ll take forever with me.”
This isn’t exclusive to Starcruiser. I’ve seen first hand the communities created from Sleep No More by Punchdrunk, Ghost Town Alive by Knott’s Berry Farm, and When Shadows Fall by Pseudonym Productions. I made a long time friend in a shower in Pseudonym’s A Study of Dreams. Perhaps you are in a community right now from your participation in a production.
As an Interactive Performance creator, you only set the stage and invite the participants in to co-create the rest. Interactivity is unpredictable and organic. You can’t know what that community is going to look like—and that’s what’s so beautiful about it—but you can make room for it to grow.
The strength of the Starcruiser community post-closure is testament to the power of Interactive Performance bringing people “together, as one.” And it continues on: Halcy-Con will return for its second year on October 16, 2025.
About the author:
Erica McCay is a creative director, writer, and designer of stories that connect people and place. For the last 11 years, Erica has designed large-scale, physical interactive experiences for theme parks around the globe, including where guests cast magical spells across the Wizarding World of Harry Potter or become heroes of a real-life video game in Thea Award winning SUPER NINTENDO WORLD. Erica has an MFA in Creative Writing and is Editor-in-Chief for AIPP’s Journal. She captured her design process in the Medium article “7 Principles for Creating Immersive Worlds.”