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I am not a Star Wars purist. I am a fan, though. I grew up watching the OG trilogy, and came of age going to the prequels. I've experienced the newest trilogy as an adult. I thought Force Awakens (2015) was pretty good. I really liked The Last Jedi (2017).I was always going to see this movie.
But the initial glut of online reviews came out hot and heavy, immediately splitting the universe into angry hand-shakers and celebratory revelers. For every scathing, savage jeremiad, I read an equally loving, fawning ode.
So was I going to love this thing, or hate it? How was I to parse the truth of the matter?
I had to go watch it.
I. What Is It?
It's the ninth damn movie in the main Star Wars saga.II. It's Still Star Wars
JJ Abrams knows how to shoot a movie. He has a gift for dynamic photography and epic tableaus. See the towering waves crashing against the wrecked skeleton of the Death Star; see the funky, multicolored Burning Man festival on that desert planet; see the lightning-illuminated temple of evil; see the polished sleek innards of First Order Star Destroyers. See our heroes clashing with their laser swords, in balletic combat, red and blue shining in their eyes. And then imagine all of that undergirded by a John Williams score that leaps and sings with every twist and turn. Imagine actors committed to this space opera, with real tears in their eyes. This movie is gorgeous to behold.
We get new aliens and new worlds. We get fascinating names and hints at larger mythology (if only there were a gaggle of future comics and novels and theme park attractions to explain them! wink-wink). There is a debonair sense of "you're with us or GTFO" that has always been a staple of Star Wars. Go back and try to watch the first trilogy again: those movies are wild. They are stuffed to the brim with crazy shit that is barely explained. Abrams understands that there is wiggle-room built into Star Wars: you don't need an explanation for everything. When you explain everything, you get midi-chlorians. And no one fucking likes midi-chlorians. And so he takes liberties: he starts his movie with a gigantic plot turn IN THE CRAWL (this is a staple of past movies, too); he takes us to various single-themed planets (a new desert planet; a new forest planet; a lightning planet!); he keeps the plot fairly contrived and archetypal (evil is EVIL and good is GOOD because shades of gray are too complicated); the force is a kind of catch-all deus-ex-machina magic that serves whatever use the plot needs it to. Love it or hate it, all of that IS Star Wars.
What's more: Abrams has a keen understanding of how to keep multiple plates spinning in the air at breakneck speed. Once this movie starts, it springs into action and rarely slows down. It is 141 minutes of forward momentum. One can take umbrage with how over-complicated it all is (there are multiple plot points that could simply be collapsed and recontextualized, and the movie would have more room to let other, more important themes and ideas breathe), but one has to marvel at how long Abrams keeps it all together, sending his movie crashing through space, with an epic rattle and hum, just like the Millennium Falcon.
The tale of the tape, really, is reflected in the disparity between the critics score and the audience score on Rotten Tomatoes: the critics score sits at a medial 57%, while the audience score soars at 86%. I have said all of this to say: if you like Star Wars, and have the ability to strap yourself in and enjoy the ride, you will have fun with The Rise of Skywalker.
Disney allowed Rian Johnson to write a script. Presumably, they signed off on various drafts of that script throughout the process. Presumably, there was someone on set signing off on the film-making process. If Johnson was throwing a wrench into Disney's grand plan, they should have stopped him. They should NOT have allowed him to make his movie, and with it multiple course-corrections to the new trilogy, and then tried to play peace-maker with the hordes of fans by course-correcting a course-correction. Now, I love The Last Jedi. I'm a big fan. But if Disney had no intention of honoring it, they shouldn't have allowed it to happen.
What we have, then, in The Rise of Skywalker, is the braiding-together of two antithetical visions. Johnson wanted to burn the past (to a fault) and allow the new characters to forge ahead into something new; Abrams wants to honor the past (to a fault) and keep Star Wars in the cyclical Campbellian loop. Johnson wanted to challenge you, while Abrams wants to sooth you. They are both fine visions, indeed. On its face, however one cannot live while the other survives.
Abrams does, however, do an admirable job of weaving his vision to Johnson's. The film shouldn't work as well as it does, and it is by no means perfect. But still. The resulting film does honor some of Johnson's ideas while reasserting and affirming what is clearly Abrams' grand understanding of what Star Wars is.
I would have preferred that Disney commit to Johnson's vision, or force Abrams to commit to the trilogy he had planned. What we have in reality is a curious, if ultimately a little disappointing, hodge-podge of the two directorial visions.
But, again: it ain't as bad as it could be, or as bad it has been made out to be online.
- It's still Star Wars, baby: just about everything that makes Star Wars fun and exciting is featured in this movieWe get new aliens and new worlds. We get fascinating names and hints at larger mythology (if only there were a gaggle of future comics and novels and theme park attractions to explain them! wink-wink). There is a debonair sense of "you're with us or GTFO" that has always been a staple of Star Wars. Go back and try to watch the first trilogy again: those movies are wild. They are stuffed to the brim with crazy shit that is barely explained. Abrams understands that there is wiggle-room built into Star Wars: you don't need an explanation for everything. When you explain everything, you get midi-chlorians. And no one fucking likes midi-chlorians. And so he takes liberties: he starts his movie with a gigantic plot turn IN THE CRAWL (this is a staple of past movies, too); he takes us to various single-themed planets (a new desert planet; a new forest planet; a lightning planet!); he keeps the plot fairly contrived and archetypal (evil is EVIL and good is GOOD because shades of gray are too complicated); the force is a kind of catch-all deus-ex-machina magic that serves whatever use the plot needs it to. Love it or hate it, all of that IS Star Wars.
What's more: Abrams has a keen understanding of how to keep multiple plates spinning in the air at breakneck speed. Once this movie starts, it springs into action and rarely slows down. It is 141 minutes of forward momentum. One can take umbrage with how over-complicated it all is (there are multiple plot points that could simply be collapsed and recontextualized, and the movie would have more room to let other, more important themes and ideas breathe), but one has to marvel at how long Abrams keeps it all together, sending his movie crashing through space, with an epic rattle and hum, just like the Millennium Falcon.
The tale of the tape, really, is reflected in the disparity between the critics score and the audience score on Rotten Tomatoes: the critics score sits at a medial 57%, while the audience score soars at 86%. I have said all of this to say: if you like Star Wars, and have the ability to strap yourself in and enjoy the ride, you will have fun with The Rise of Skywalker.
III. Get the Gang Together
Abrams lucked out when he cast Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac and Adam Driver. He got relative unknowns (at the time) who could bring gallons of charisma to his new trilogy. And the films were always going to survive on the backs of that team of four. And The Rise of Skywalker works in large part because of the chemistry of its leads.
Ridley sells Rey's arc with unabashed pathos. Driver is the embodiment of conflicted rage. Isaac is our roguish flyboy. Boyega is a goofy budding radical. The heroes banter and quip with ease, and serve Abrams and Terrio's script with more vitality than it might strictly deserve (there are a few clunkers peppered throughout the film's dialogue).
But when the film shoots for the heart, and dares you to shed a tear with it, it's the actors that make that possible. Should you care so much about a silly movie about space monks with laser swords? In lesser hands you wouldn't.
But the talented cast keeps this movie soaring.
Ridley sells Rey's arc with unabashed pathos. Driver is the embodiment of conflicted rage. Isaac is our roguish flyboy. Boyega is a goofy budding radical. The heroes banter and quip with ease, and serve Abrams and Terrio's script with more vitality than it might strictly deserve (there are a few clunkers peppered throughout the film's dialogue).
But when the film shoots for the heart, and dares you to shed a tear with it, it's the actors that make that possible. Should you care so much about a silly movie about space monks with laser swords? In lesser hands you wouldn't.
But the talented cast keeps this movie soaring.
IV. Compromise of Two Visions
It is absolutely clear that Disney had no plan for this trilogy. Each film works as a single movie, but, in the context of a series of three films that should build a larger narrative, Disney and Abrams have largely failed.Disney allowed Rian Johnson to write a script. Presumably, they signed off on various drafts of that script throughout the process. Presumably, there was someone on set signing off on the film-making process. If Johnson was throwing a wrench into Disney's grand plan, they should have stopped him. They should NOT have allowed him to make his movie, and with it multiple course-corrections to the new trilogy, and then tried to play peace-maker with the hordes of fans by course-correcting a course-correction. Now, I love The Last Jedi. I'm a big fan. But if Disney had no intention of honoring it, they shouldn't have allowed it to happen.
What we have, then, in The Rise of Skywalker, is the braiding-together of two antithetical visions. Johnson wanted to burn the past (to a fault) and allow the new characters to forge ahead into something new; Abrams wants to honor the past (to a fault) and keep Star Wars in the cyclical Campbellian loop. Johnson wanted to challenge you, while Abrams wants to sooth you. They are both fine visions, indeed. On its face, however one cannot live while the other survives.
Abrams does, however, do an admirable job of weaving his vision to Johnson's. The film shouldn't work as well as it does, and it is by no means perfect. But still. The resulting film does honor some of Johnson's ideas while reasserting and affirming what is clearly Abrams' grand understanding of what Star Wars is.
I would have preferred that Disney commit to Johnson's vision, or force Abrams to commit to the trilogy he had planned. What we have in reality is a curious, if ultimately a little disappointing, hodge-podge of the two directorial visions.
But, again: it ain't as bad as it could be, or as bad it has been made out to be online.
V. Erasure
One of my biggest disappointments in the movie is the near-erasure of Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran) and the blink-and-you'll-miss-it bullshit attempt at LGBTQ appeasement. And both of these problems arise from a massive corporation that likes to appear progressive only when it's profitable.
First off: Rose. Kelly Marie Tran was put through the wringer by obsessive fan boys after the release of The Last Jedi (2019). She was unfairly mocked, subjected to racist and sexist attacks, and was forced to leave social media. And how does JJ Abrams honor her work and sacrifice? He gives her five minutes of screen time, erases her story with Finn and keeps her hidden in the background as much as possible. That is fucking bullshit. I liked Rose's story. I liked how she challenged Finn and made him evolve. I think Tran is an excellent performer that brings fresh representation and a fun spirit to the franchise. And I think her treatment in The Rise of Skywalker is abhorrent by omission.
And then there's that "queer representation" that people tried to tout as a big deal. We get two nobody characters sharing a kiss for maybe a second of actual screentime, and absolutely no mention of their context or circumstance. I am a straight dude, so perhaps my perspective is skewed. Maybe I don't fully appreciate the olive branch of inclusion that this moment represents. I just don't think it is good enough. It doesn't rise to the level of real representation. It's a pandering gimme that feels like Disney and Abrams patting themselves on the back while refusing to do the actual work of LGBTQ inclusion. You had Finn and Poe, you fucking cowards. Give me a queer character: a real one, with a name and a story and a starring role.
First off: Rose. Kelly Marie Tran was put through the wringer by obsessive fan boys after the release of The Last Jedi (2019). She was unfairly mocked, subjected to racist and sexist attacks, and was forced to leave social media. And how does JJ Abrams honor her work and sacrifice? He gives her five minutes of screen time, erases her story with Finn and keeps her hidden in the background as much as possible. That is fucking bullshit. I liked Rose's story. I liked how she challenged Finn and made him evolve. I think Tran is an excellent performer that brings fresh representation and a fun spirit to the franchise. And I think her treatment in The Rise of Skywalker is abhorrent by omission.
And then there's that "queer representation" that people tried to tout as a big deal. We get two nobody characters sharing a kiss for maybe a second of actual screentime, and absolutely no mention of their context or circumstance. I am a straight dude, so perhaps my perspective is skewed. Maybe I don't fully appreciate the olive branch of inclusion that this moment represents. I just don't think it is good enough. It doesn't rise to the level of real representation. It's a pandering gimme that feels like Disney and Abrams patting themselves on the back while refusing to do the actual work of LGBTQ inclusion. You had Finn and Poe, you fucking cowards. Give me a queer character: a real one, with a name and a story and a starring role.
Why You Should See It
- The cast is crackerjack and commits to the story fully
- It is absolutely gorgeous to behold
Why You Shouldn't See It
In Conclusion
Know this: The Rise of Skywalker is not as bad as you may have read. It is also, likely, not as amazing as you've read, either.
What it IS, is a reasonable facsimile of a definitive end to one of pop culture's biggest properties. It IS fun. It is a great reason to go to the movies and gulp down soda and wolf down a bucket of popcorn. Whatever my opinion means, I think this movie is a lot of fun and worth your time and investment.
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