Star Bar – Feel, don't think
A disorientating experience in an unexpected place.
There’s a moment in Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace when Qui-Gon Jinn is counselling Anakin Skywalker ahead of his podrace. He’s advising the young proto-Vader (stay with me here) on using the force.
“Remember, concentrate on the moment,” he says. “Feel, don’t think.”
I’d advise you do the same when you step into Star Bar.
It’s a pub which defies any attempt to make sense of it, impossible to pin down – and despite being hidden away in a corner of the New Town, it is the most anti-New Town establishment you could think of.
In fact, I doubt any of its salubrious neighbours have ever set foot in this self-described American dive bar. This is a locale where residents complain when front doors are the wrong colour – so I can only imagine what they think of a proudly odd Star Wars-themed cabinet of curiosities on their doorstep.
The pub sits on two levels, with sofas and wingback chairs in the raised area behind the bar. Beyond that is a small beer garden – one of the few in central Edinburgh.
There’s absolutely no consistency to the decor inside. There are some Star Wars nods, such as a Storm Trooper helmet and a model of an AT-AT. But these are almost hidden among a mishmash of leather high-heeled boots, posters of performers, black and white Polaroids of patrons, rainbow bunting, mirrors, doll’s heads, old fruit machine panels and a still from Casablanca.
Rumour has it the bar is home to a cursed human skull in its basement, bringing bad luck – and even death – to anyone who gets too close.
There’s also a dart board, table football and a piano for entertainment.
“This bar’s a shithole,” the barman says affectionately. We’re there on a quiet Saturday afternoon for a couple of rounds of darts, accompanied only by a couple of waifs and strays who seem to have made the pub their home. (It has been busier on other occasions I’ve visited, such as midweek evenings.)
Somehow, Star Bar was highly commended in the inaugural Edinburgh Bar Awards last year. It’s an odd atmosphere, but by no means a bad one. The beer is crap.1 The people are friendly. The playlist is fantastic. I’m glad it’s here, showing two fingers to the local red-trouser brigade who turn their noses up at it.
Though the bar came under new management in August 2023, it gives the impression it’s hardly changed in years. Stepping inside can be slightly discombobulating before you’ve even sipped your first pint, taking you away from the outside into its own strange world.
We finally leave, blinking in the late afternoon light, wondering what just happened. Feel, don’t think.
Where is it?
Where next?
For a more conventional pub experience, stroll a couple of minutes down the street to The Cumberland Bar.
(The Cumberland has been refurbished since my original review back in 2023 – it’s no longer red inside – but remains a great pub with a lovely beer garden.)
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The chaser – The Boar They Butchered
Way back in an early edition of this newsletter, I wrote about the sad end of one of my favourite breweries, Ringwood in Hampshire. It’s my opinion that it’s one of the most important breweries in Britain – nay, the world – from the past 50 years. Its founder Peter Austin is something of a godfather to the beer we drink today and it’s spawned brewers who have gone on to help set up some of the most exciting breweries in the past few decades. And the beer really was fantastic.
I’ve now written about it for Pellicle, examining the brewery’s close relationship to the New Forest, my own relationship to the brewery, and what happened once Carlsberg got involved. It’s got some lovely illustrations from Laurel Molly. I hope you’ll read it.
Use the link below to leave any feedback, or email me on edinburghpubreviews@substack.com.
The pub is tied to Heineken. I paid close to £7 for a very average Neck Oil.