HOPING TO BE DAZZLED
Innovation is at heart of Star Wars franchise, writes Fish Griwkowsky.
WARNING: NO, AS IN ZERO, SPOILERS OF THE LAST JEDI AHEAD — PROMISE!
For a general audience, 2015’s cinematic return to the Star Wars universe, The Force Awakens, did its job and then some. Its actors — particularly Adam Driver as Kylo Ren and Daisy Ridley as the mystery box-dwelling Rey — vibrated with onscreen presence, and the film felt tremendously familiar in the context of the original trilogy, which first hit screens between 1977 and 1983.
But as fast-paced and funny as the new instalment was, it’s not outrageous to say that familiarity often felt like a crushing lack of imagination.
The most obvious example of this in Episode VII was the “technological terror” of the illogical, sun-slurping Starkiller Base, yet another Death Star with yet another hexagonal Achilles heel, created by yet another Empire run by yet another malformed supreme leader — who also sounds like he gargled too much turpentine.
The Rathtars were just sped up rolling Rancor monsters; Rey’s home planet Jakku just another Tatooine where she was essentially a human Jawa with a Tusken Raider stick; Maz Kanata was an orange Yoda living in another Mos Eisley cantina/Jabba’s palace; and even Han Solo’s fate plainly echoed that of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s — Rey and Chewie screaming in unison where Luke once had (as Obi-Wan himself did over his master Qui-Gon Jinn).
Directed by J.J. Abrams, the cinematic refresh had a stale and scavenged core that felt very much like it was assembled via a wall of sticky notes listing everything we loved about the original series — from characters to themes to settings (desert, forest, Edmonton winter) — squashed into one “new” adventure.
Many have said Abrams had no choice but to riff to the max, to erase the reputation of the prequels (which made $2.4 billion worldwide, P.S.).
That argument never convinced me — and I’d say he just created different problems on the other side of the prequels’ failings, including some truly incredible plot holes. (For example, Kylo Ren’s utter destruction of a village where he’s frantically looking for a map. How Starkiller base works, what, only twice? Anything about that space map to Luke, including R2-D2 suddenly turning on for no apparent reason. And especially the bewildering relationship between the New Republic, the Resistance and the First Order).
On top of that, the fact everything our original-trilogy holy trinity of Luke, Leia and Han worked so hard for meant absolutely nothing 30 years later was not only hard to swallow — they’re basically losers making terrible choices in Episode VII — but begs the question: Why will it be any different for our new recruits to the Rebelli — sorry — Resistance?
Then along came Gareth Edwards’ Rogue One last year, proving a fresher set of ideas can soar, even within a story we thought we knew. This first independent “Star Wars Story” was a new structure of film within the franchise that made the universe feel way bigger, more dangerous under everyday oppression, and had more breathtaking “wow” moments than anything in The Force Awakens. OK, sure, because of a Death Star — but also ideas like seeing Darth Vader’s castle on Mustafar, where he killed his wife, and where the Emperor viciously forces once Anakin to live and brood. Harsh!
All the above arguments aside, there’s lots to love about The Force Awakens — but having watched it repeatedly, I thought maybe I’d outgrown being able to be truly blown away by the ongoing franchise’s strip-mining. Rogue One convinced me otherwise — I felt like a kid watching it, laughing at K-2SO’s brutal honesty, horrified as characters I’d quickly grown to love met their fates at the weapons of the Empire.
Rogue One delivered, wait for it, a new hope.
And so, here we are, with The Last Jedi about to drop, with a fresh new director: Looper’s Rian Johnson, who has spent a lot of time talking about the story in interviews.
I’ve avoided reading the reviews and I’m basically hiding from the internet, but I’ve got high hopes.
There are a number of things I’d love to see happen in the new film, including have the pretty-dumb-so-far Snoke be one of the film’s best characters. There is real potential for the Jean Claude Van Damme-untouchable Rey, masterful at everything she ever tried with zero training and no consequences, to convincingly turn to the Dark Side, and I’d love to see that play out.
The issue of Carrie Fisher having died in real life when Episode IX was supposed to focus on Leia Organa needs to be dealt with in a convincing way. And, of course, poor Luke Skywalker must be handled believably. I trust Mark Hamill and have great faith in Johnson. But good lord, if they’re going to do something terrible to him, the film sure as hell better earn it.
Also, please, way fewer gaping plot holes? Pretty please?
Mostly, though, I hope we’re all delighted, dizzied — as well as horrified — but more than anything else, surprised by the unfamiliar.
Because at its golden roots, that’s always been Star Wars at its best: something we’ve never seen before.