The release of the latest, and allegedly last, installment in the “Skywalker Saga,” comprising the canonical triad of trilogies in the eternally expanding “Star Wars” universe, seems like an appropriate time to pose a wistful little thought experiment: What if “Star Wars” — the original 1977 film — had performed at the box office about as everyone expected, in the range of a ’70s Disney film, earning, say, $16 million? Let’s imagine that some film historian or revisionist critic circa 2019 were to rediscover this forgotten gem, an oddity of ’70s cinema buried among all the Watergate-paranoia thrillers, demonic horror films and disaster blockbusters. Can we, with 40 years’ retrospect, evaluate it as a film instead of a phenomenon?

Before “Star Wars” became a commercial behemoth, most critics found it a charming diversion: The Times called it “the most elaborate, most expensive, most beautiful movie serial ever made.” They were bemused to see such high production values — state-of-the-art special effects, a full orchestral score — lavished on subject matter previously associated with cardboard props. It was, unlike all the tragic masterworks of American cinema of that decade, innocent good fun.

Had innocent fun not become a cynical commodity and conquered the multiplex, George Lucas would still be remembered as a lesser member of the Movie Brats, and his third feature as a curious synthesis of his first two: “THX 1138,” a pessimistic future dystopia, and “American Graffiti,” a nostalgic homage to a bygone era. At the very least, “Star Wars” would be remembered as an interesting, if eccentric, children’s film, a subversive sleeper like 1971’s “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

It’s dispiriting to recall the dismal crudscape of children’s entertainment in the 1970s, the indifference and contempt with which most of it was produced: Disney at its nadir, “Benji” movies, a lot of Saturday morning TV made by people on drugs. “Star Wars” was made with evident care by master craftsmen — Ralph McQuarrie, John Dykstra, Ben Burtt and John Williams, among others. There was humor in the film, but it took its world, its ethos and its audience seriously. As almost every film that is not “Star Wars” demonstrates, it’s extremely difficult to strike this balance between treating your subject with respect but not too solemnly, being self-aware without condescension or camp.