I don't give everything away, but enough that I think a spoiler alert is called for.
SPOILERS-SPOILERS-SPOILERS-SPOILERS-SPOILERS
Consider yourself alerted.
I'm not talking about scrapping things the way 2017's The Last Jedi took a blow torch to the Star Wars legacy. It is possible to move forward while respecting what came before. So far, though, the new era Disney Star Wars is still trying to find a way to do that.
Don't get me wrong, I actually kind of enjoyed ROS, at least the second half of it. But to get to that second half I had to sit through what seemed like more than an hour of convoluted and confusing set up that was mainly designed to erase the events and revelations of the last film. At the time I'm sitting here tapping away at the keyboard, its a little over 24 hours since I left the theater, and I'm not sure I could give you a synopsis of the film without referencing an outline - it was at once so detail laden and forgettable. So, I won't bother. Another frustration is that the misfire that was TLJ is ultimately what kept this film from being the rousing, emotionally satisfying wrap-up it could have been.
I'm not going to rehash all the problems with trying to make a postmodern, woke Star Wars movie (or any movie for that matter), as they did with TLJ. I'll focus on one point, and how it impacts the latest installment of the franchise, even as writer director J.J. Abrams went to great lengths to distance ROS in tone and theme from its SJW predecessor.
When the starting point of the film maker's process is ideology and not story telling, let alone character development they, along with likeminded commentators, usually respond to any negative criticism by claiming some kind of "ism" on the part of the critic. In a film like Star Wars, the characters are based on broadly drawn types to begin with, so making them real and relatable is challenge enough. Now put them into ideological straitjackets and it becomes impossible. The problem some have with Rey (Daisy Ridley), for instance, isn't that she is a woman, as some defenders have claimed. The problem is that the ideological world view that has taken over much of contemporary pop culture dictates that a woman lead can not be shown with any weaknesses. Add to that that it is not enough for a woman to be in the lead and flawless, but that the men around her must be incompetent. It's just a recipe for awkward storytelling and cardboard characters.
But that Rey was made into a seemingly flawless creature in no need of growth or trial is only part of the problem. TLJ tried to tear down the Star Wars myth, and with it Rey's possible past. In our post modern world, or so the thinking goes, tradition is unimportant. We don't need to know where we have been to know where we are going. We are complete as we are. We are capable of creating our own meaning without reference to family, heritage or tradition.
There is a problem, from a story telling standpoint though. A major theme of The Force Awakens revolved around Rey's identity, which was a mystery to her as well as everyone else. Hints are given, and it's made clear that she is gifted with the Force, which leads her to Luke Skywalker's (Mark Hamill) old light saber. As the first film ends Rey begins her own Hero's Journey, finding Luke on a secluded planet, handing him his laser sword with outstretched arm. Finally, she will get answers. She will be trained to perfect the incredible skills she already possesses. Luke may not have all the answers, but at least he will help her move in the right direction to fulfill her destiny.
TLJ in turn opens on this exact scene. Luke takes the light saber and immediately begins to instruct the callow youth in the ways of the Jedi, revealing her personal past and pointing her to where she needs to go. With this new found skill and knowledge she goes off to face her destiny, which is now her's to fulfill of fail trying.
Just kidding.
Luke throws the light saber over his shoulder like an empty Coke can, tells her the Force is not worth getting all worked up about and spends the rest of his screen time acting like a grumpy old man complaining about his gout. Then Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) tells her that her parents were deadbeat nobodies who sold her for drinking money. Yoda burns down the Jedi library, and all the sacred texts within it, assuring Luke that it's better this way. The Jedi time has come and past and it's now the moment to move on.
The idea is that now Rey, and the franchise in general, is free to move in whatever direction she wants. She is no longer encumbered by the past. That sounds great, but in reality it doesn't really work. On a practical level it fails because the first film is now rendered irrelevant. The audience is left wondering why it invested so much time and treasure into a saga that has turned out to be a false flag from the beginning. On a deeper, instinctual level, the audience lives vicariously through the hero. We want to believe that we are special, that we have a destiny, that there is a greatness within us waiting to be unleashed. If Rey is a nobody, and everyone has the force (which was sort of what was implied by having all the stable boys and girls using mental telepathy to sweep out the barn in TLJ), then no one is really special. There is no reason to root for Rey or care much about her story. Who needs to save the universe when the power of the universe resides in me already? Why go on a journey? Why not find a secluded place and let the galaxy go to blazes?
There is something even more fundamental going on here. That Rey has a past maters, to us as well as her. We can fool ourselves into thinking the tradition or heritage don't matter, but according to CNBC 26 million people took home DNA tests in 2018, and the total was expected to go up to as many as 100 million by 2020. Those are tens, and possibly hundreds of millions of people curious about where they came from. On an anecdotal note, I know people with knowledge of their family tree going back four or even five generations who still took one of these mail order tests and were surprised by the results. (Just as a side note, if you're of Southern Italian or Sicilian decent, you're going to have Greek ancestors, don't get freaked out).
Rey isn't the only character who struggles with his or her identity. Finn has a poignant conversation with another storm trooper who defected, about how they were stollen from their families as children and now feel an inner emptiness at not having any idea about where they came from. Both actors, John Boyega and Naomi Ackie, are British of African decent. While not themselves descendants of slaves necessarily, the scene is meant to reflect the feelings of some African Americans who lament that they really can't trace their lineage back to Africa with any certainty. I had a friend of mine explain that while I could trace my family back to a particular village in a particular region of Italy, he can't do the same with his ancestors from West Africa. While this didn't constitute an existential crisis in this man's life, it was nonetheless a void he felt deeply.
By giving Rey and Finn these struggles they are made more human and relatable to the audience. There is something inside of us that strives for greatness and wants to know that we are a part of something bigger than ourselves. We are looking for something that builds us up and connects us, not something that tears down and divides.
Yes, this is a pop corn entertainment, not Shakespeare or Chekov, so why get too deep? I'm getting deep because the original trilogy was just simple entertainment as well. But it connected because George Lucas understood how mythology works, and how audiences connect with characters. I know there is a lot of debate about how much help Lucas may have received from collaborators (especially film editors) in fashioning the final product. I'll leave that to the fan boys to hash out. It's enough to point out the the first films captured the audience's imagination because it tapped into these primordial archetypes and human yearnings that had nothing to do with whatever political or ideological agenda was being pushed in 1977. Also, as fast paced and action packed as the originals were, time was given for the characters to interact and grow with each other. You really did believe that they were friends who would risk it all for one another. I just don't see that happening here. As for the general tone of the original films, Star Wars bucked the trend of the cynical anti-hero and moral ambiguity prevalent in films of the period. Luke does struggle, but there is no doubt about what the right thing to do is. The only question is all he do it or turn bad.
The first half of the film, as rushed as it is, is taken up with trying to erase the memory of TLJ. Rey does need training after all, but this time she receives it from Leah (the late Carrie Fisher in some awkwardly inserted outtakes from previous movies). She finds out that she's Emperor Palatine's (Ian McDiarmid) granddaughter, so she does have a past after all - and the struggle she has between dark and light has a reason. Luke tells her that he was wrong in refusing to train her, and the the Force is really is all that and an a bag of chips. We see Rey consulting some old Jedi scriptures, the ones that survived the conflagration, so they weren't so irrelevant after all.
When Rey introduces herself in this third movie, she says, "Just Rey," to indicate that she has no family name. At the end, she gets one, or more correctly appropriates one. We can debate how correct this is. I really don't care. All it does is drive home the idea that we all want an identity that comes from outside of us. We all want to feel like we belong to a family, and not just one of or own making. Rey splits the difference here. Though she knows where she comes from know, she chooses to adopt the Skywalker name. It may be her "choice," but it's not her creation. She now continues in a line rather than making her own.
All this last minute revising could have been avoided if the film makers had plotted things out from the beginning. By beginning I mean starting with Episode VII. I'm on record as being a fan of Daisy Ridley, so the fact that a woman is the successor of the Skywalker legacy is A-OK with me. Rey does end the series with incredible Force powers beyond any character that has come before. On the one hand this only reinforces the perception that she is a Mary Sue. Contrary wise it would be more acceptable if the character had been allowed a normal arc that includes self discovery, making mistakes, losing heart and needing to be encouraged to continue. We get a little of that here, but not enough to completely erase what came before.
I have other ideas about how they could have taken these stories in another direction from the start, but that's a bit beyond where I wanted to go here. The one recommendation I will offer is that Disney should take a few years off of making more Star Wars features, regroup, and start over with a fresh take that both moves things forward and respects what made the original trilogy so successful to begin with. Namely tapping into eternal archetypes, avoid putting your characters and story into the ideological straitjacket du juor, and allow them time to form real friendships and connections the audience can relate to.
Of all the missed opportunities of this sequel trilogy the worst might be that they assembled a likable, charismatic cast of young actors and never really developed them properly. I wanted to feel something at the end of ROS, but I didn't. Not really. Because most of last movie the three heroes were pretty much kept apart on separate missions. Rey could do nothing wrong, and Finn and Poe could do nothing right. Now they are together, by and large, but they show a camaraderie that doesn't seem earned. Now that it's over we might never see this cast together again, which is a shame.
All that's left to do is scrap this series and start over. Disney has too much invested not to. I just hope they plan things out a little better next time.
When the starting point of the film maker's process is ideology and not story telling, let alone character development they, along with likeminded commentators, usually respond to any negative criticism by claiming some kind of "ism" on the part of the critic. In a film like Star Wars, the characters are based on broadly drawn types to begin with, so making them real and relatable is challenge enough. Now put them into ideological straitjackets and it becomes impossible. The problem some have with Rey (Daisy Ridley), for instance, isn't that she is a woman, as some defenders have claimed. The problem is that the ideological world view that has taken over much of contemporary pop culture dictates that a woman lead can not be shown with any weaknesses. Add to that that it is not enough for a woman to be in the lead and flawless, but that the men around her must be incompetent. It's just a recipe for awkward storytelling and cardboard characters.
But that Rey was made into a seemingly flawless creature in no need of growth or trial is only part of the problem. TLJ tried to tear down the Star Wars myth, and with it Rey's possible past. In our post modern world, or so the thinking goes, tradition is unimportant. We don't need to know where we have been to know where we are going. We are complete as we are. We are capable of creating our own meaning without reference to family, heritage or tradition.
There is a problem, from a story telling standpoint though. A major theme of The Force Awakens revolved around Rey's identity, which was a mystery to her as well as everyone else. Hints are given, and it's made clear that she is gifted with the Force, which leads her to Luke Skywalker's (Mark Hamill) old light saber. As the first film ends Rey begins her own Hero's Journey, finding Luke on a secluded planet, handing him his laser sword with outstretched arm. Finally, she will get answers. She will be trained to perfect the incredible skills she already possesses. Luke may not have all the answers, but at least he will help her move in the right direction to fulfill her destiny.
TLJ in turn opens on this exact scene. Luke takes the light saber and immediately begins to instruct the callow youth in the ways of the Jedi, revealing her personal past and pointing her to where she needs to go. With this new found skill and knowledge she goes off to face her destiny, which is now her's to fulfill of fail trying.
Just kidding.
Luke throws the light saber over his shoulder like an empty Coke can, tells her the Force is not worth getting all worked up about and spends the rest of his screen time acting like a grumpy old man complaining about his gout. Then Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) tells her that her parents were deadbeat nobodies who sold her for drinking money. Yoda burns down the Jedi library, and all the sacred texts within it, assuring Luke that it's better this way. The Jedi time has come and past and it's now the moment to move on.
The idea is that now Rey, and the franchise in general, is free to move in whatever direction she wants. She is no longer encumbered by the past. That sounds great, but in reality it doesn't really work. On a practical level it fails because the first film is now rendered irrelevant. The audience is left wondering why it invested so much time and treasure into a saga that has turned out to be a false flag from the beginning. On a deeper, instinctual level, the audience lives vicariously through the hero. We want to believe that we are special, that we have a destiny, that there is a greatness within us waiting to be unleashed. If Rey is a nobody, and everyone has the force (which was sort of what was implied by having all the stable boys and girls using mental telepathy to sweep out the barn in TLJ), then no one is really special. There is no reason to root for Rey or care much about her story. Who needs to save the universe when the power of the universe resides in me already? Why go on a journey? Why not find a secluded place and let the galaxy go to blazes?
There is something even more fundamental going on here. That Rey has a past maters, to us as well as her. We can fool ourselves into thinking the tradition or heritage don't matter, but according to CNBC 26 million people took home DNA tests in 2018, and the total was expected to go up to as many as 100 million by 2020. Those are tens, and possibly hundreds of millions of people curious about where they came from. On an anecdotal note, I know people with knowledge of their family tree going back four or even five generations who still took one of these mail order tests and were surprised by the results. (Just as a side note, if you're of Southern Italian or Sicilian decent, you're going to have Greek ancestors, don't get freaked out).
Rey isn't the only character who struggles with his or her identity. Finn has a poignant conversation with another storm trooper who defected, about how they were stollen from their families as children and now feel an inner emptiness at not having any idea about where they came from. Both actors, John Boyega and Naomi Ackie, are British of African decent. While not themselves descendants of slaves necessarily, the scene is meant to reflect the feelings of some African Americans who lament that they really can't trace their lineage back to Africa with any certainty. I had a friend of mine explain that while I could trace my family back to a particular village in a particular region of Italy, he can't do the same with his ancestors from West Africa. While this didn't constitute an existential crisis in this man's life, it was nonetheless a void he felt deeply.
By giving Rey and Finn these struggles they are made more human and relatable to the audience. There is something inside of us that strives for greatness and wants to know that we are a part of something bigger than ourselves. We are looking for something that builds us up and connects us, not something that tears down and divides.
Yes, this is a pop corn entertainment, not Shakespeare or Chekov, so why get too deep? I'm getting deep because the original trilogy was just simple entertainment as well. But it connected because George Lucas understood how mythology works, and how audiences connect with characters. I know there is a lot of debate about how much help Lucas may have received from collaborators (especially film editors) in fashioning the final product. I'll leave that to the fan boys to hash out. It's enough to point out the the first films captured the audience's imagination because it tapped into these primordial archetypes and human yearnings that had nothing to do with whatever political or ideological agenda was being pushed in 1977. Also, as fast paced and action packed as the originals were, time was given for the characters to interact and grow with each other. You really did believe that they were friends who would risk it all for one another. I just don't see that happening here. As for the general tone of the original films, Star Wars bucked the trend of the cynical anti-hero and moral ambiguity prevalent in films of the period. Luke does struggle, but there is no doubt about what the right thing to do is. The only question is all he do it or turn bad.
The first half of the film, as rushed as it is, is taken up with trying to erase the memory of TLJ. Rey does need training after all, but this time she receives it from Leah (the late Carrie Fisher in some awkwardly inserted outtakes from previous movies). She finds out that she's Emperor Palatine's (Ian McDiarmid) granddaughter, so she does have a past after all - and the struggle she has between dark and light has a reason. Luke tells her that he was wrong in refusing to train her, and the the Force is really is all that and an a bag of chips. We see Rey consulting some old Jedi scriptures, the ones that survived the conflagration, so they weren't so irrelevant after all.
When Rey introduces herself in this third movie, she says, "Just Rey," to indicate that she has no family name. At the end, she gets one, or more correctly appropriates one. We can debate how correct this is. I really don't care. All it does is drive home the idea that we all want an identity that comes from outside of us. We all want to feel like we belong to a family, and not just one of or own making. Rey splits the difference here. Though she knows where she comes from know, she chooses to adopt the Skywalker name. It may be her "choice," but it's not her creation. She now continues in a line rather than making her own.
All this last minute revising could have been avoided if the film makers had plotted things out from the beginning. By beginning I mean starting with Episode VII. I'm on record as being a fan of Daisy Ridley, so the fact that a woman is the successor of the Skywalker legacy is A-OK with me. Rey does end the series with incredible Force powers beyond any character that has come before. On the one hand this only reinforces the perception that she is a Mary Sue. Contrary wise it would be more acceptable if the character had been allowed a normal arc that includes self discovery, making mistakes, losing heart and needing to be encouraged to continue. We get a little of that here, but not enough to completely erase what came before.
I have other ideas about how they could have taken these stories in another direction from the start, but that's a bit beyond where I wanted to go here. The one recommendation I will offer is that Disney should take a few years off of making more Star Wars features, regroup, and start over with a fresh take that both moves things forward and respects what made the original trilogy so successful to begin with. Namely tapping into eternal archetypes, avoid putting your characters and story into the ideological straitjacket du juor, and allow them time to form real friendships and connections the audience can relate to.
Of all the missed opportunities of this sequel trilogy the worst might be that they assembled a likable, charismatic cast of young actors and never really developed them properly. I wanted to feel something at the end of ROS, but I didn't. Not really. Because most of last movie the three heroes were pretty much kept apart on separate missions. Rey could do nothing wrong, and Finn and Poe could do nothing right. Now they are together, by and large, but they show a camaraderie that doesn't seem earned. Now that it's over we might never see this cast together again, which is a shame.
All that's left to do is scrap this series and start over. Disney has too much invested not to. I just hope they plan things out a little better next time.
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