Edmonton Journal

THE LAST JEDI: A NEW HOPE

Latest film offers a way forward: Griwkowsky

- FISH GRIWKOWSKY fgriwkowsk­y@postmedia.com Twitter: @fisheyefot­o

Star Wars: The Last Jedi is a philosophi­cal titan that, like its ski-speeders on Crait, breaks necessary new ground in the ongoing adventures of the Skywalker clan, tearing at the surface to reveal the blood beneath.

Very much like 1980’s Empire Strikes Back, it’s a film that scars.

Besides being surprising­ly thoughtful and packed with metaphor, Episode VIII’s action sequences are tense and terrifying, and even its humour repeatedly serves a greater purpose. Think of how Chewie gets his savage vibe back as he readies to eat a roasted Porg — then hesitates as its family stares at him. In the tiniest of wordless skits, we’re considerin­g the Wookie’s instinct and character.

And character — especially the character of Kylo Ren, Rey, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa and, really importantl­y, Poe Dameron — is just one of Episode VIII’s behemoth strengths.

After waiting two years to see Luke’s next move as Rey passes the canonical blue lightsaber to him in J.J. Abrams’ cliffhange­r style, The Last Jedi writerdire­ctor Rian Johnson makes a bold statement. Luke hilariousl­y tosses the antique, and we learn so much about the old wizard in an instant.

But rather than being a throwaway joke, this opens the door to just one of The Last Jedi’s major, iconoclast­ic themes: “Let the past die,” as Kylo Ren later pleads.

The idea of moving on past the familiar flashes like lightning through the whole movie, including in Yoda’s attitude about the sacred Jedi texts, which he jokingly dismisses as real “pageturner­s.”

Having the saga’s great philosophi­cal figure mock Luke — substitute the fanboy audience here — clinging to Star Wars orthodoxy seems in part to be a response to the derivative nature of The Force Awakens which, while fun, was innovative­ly bankrupt. As filmmaker, Johnson knows this impression, and speaks to it directly when hitting the same dismissive note when Supreme Leader Snoke orders Ren to take off his “ridiculous mask,” which is then smashed. The director later does away with golden Gollum Snoke — an echo of the original trilogy’s Emperor.

But, to Johnson’s ongoing credit, by sacrificin­g Snoke — both Rey and Ren’s goal — he builds something more important between them. The moment their seduction toward each other is torn apart by their fundamenta­l misunderst­anding of one another is tragic and beautiful: Rey says, “Don’t do this, Ben,” then Kylo begs her to stick with him, anchored on the whispered word, “Please.”

It’s in this gorgeous setting we also shrug off the tease of Rey’s family history, perhaps Johnson’s boldest move against the last film and the entire saga. Who were Rey’s parents? “Nobody,” she sniffs.

And who, ultimately, was Snoke? Seriously, who really cares? He served his purpose, then got out of the way for the real core of the new trilogy: the Rey-Ren relationsh­ip. Here, Johnson tosses lightsaber after lightsaber over his shoulder.

Now, let’s talk about Luke a bit, as we will for generation­s. A destroyed old man hoping to die when Rey meets him, Luke’s legacy of blowing up one Death Star, rescuing a buddy from a gangster, then having the crap beat out of him so his dad Darth Vader had to save the galaxy (which didn’t even work) was a long story of spiralling failure.

That’s where Abrams left us. Johnson pulled Skywalker back from the cliff.

I hoped for about five things from The Last Jedi; Johnson gave me at least 10, including a continuing barrage of true surprises and new ideas.

We see Leia use the Force to save herself (ironically, R.I.P.); a ship torn in half with a hyperspace jump; Snoke use a Force switchboar­d to connect Rey and Ren; Rey confrontin­g useless countless echoes of herself as she tries to unravel her lineage; criticism of war profiteeri­ng.

But it’s the new ideas surroundin­g Luke that make this his film, including the flashbacks of how Ren fell, seen from three not-socertain points of view.

Yoda’s lesson that Luke’s missteps are part of Rey’s lesson is wonderful, and another key theme of the film: the necessity of failure.

The R2-D2 moment was also heart-melting. Now an old robot sleeping most of the time, Artoo is actually the one who tips Luke’s stubbornne­ss — literally talking to him with Leia’s message to Obi-Wan Kenobi. After this, Luke checks in on his hospitaliz­ed sister and makes his ultimate decision to sacrifice himself. Artoo, as ever, saves the day.

Luke’s power to project his image across the galaxy to stall Kylo Ren was magnificen­t — and it kills him, as Ren warned Rey earlier. But in doing so, this film creates Luke’s final redemption. He’s returned from the Grey Side to be part of a new hope moving forward without him.

Now let’s discuss the film’s most controvers­ial aspect: the outright failure of Finn and Rose’s plan, which Poe Dameron takes up like a typical Hollywood hero, defying authority to save the day — except it didn’t work. If Poe hadn’t snuck around Vice Admiral Holdo’s back with his space cowboy routine, Benicio Del Toro’s DJ character couldn’t have sold Finn and Rose’s discussion­s of the Resistance’s moves to the First Order — and a great number of people, including Luke Skywalker, might have been spared.

But Dameron, several ranks lower, didn’t give the serious lady with pink hair credit, and it costs everyone. There is, as there is throughout The Last Jedi, a feminist message here: men often don’t listen to women.

Full disclosure, I didn’t like or trust Holdo at first, either. But she’s someone in whom Leia put her trust, and because Poe didn’t respect that, the central character of the original trilogy had to play his final hand.

Blaming Holdo for not letting Poe in on the escape plan to Crait is as ridiculous as expecting her to roll with the flyboy’s plan to destroy the hyperspace tracker — besides, he never told her. “The greatest teacher, failure is.”

Moving on to the film’s final scene, an unknown nobody slave with telekinesi­s is inspired by Luke Skywalker’s story and looks to the stars — the literal embodiment of “a new hope.”

As much as Yoda, Kylo Ren and even Rian Johnson are saying it’s time to move on from our old heroes, let’s not forget about Rey keeping the orthodox candle lit. She has faith in the old way.

While Luke hesitates and tries to save the Jedi Texts as Yoda zaps the ancient tree, Rey is already ahead of him: at the end of the film, the books are aboard the Millenium Falcon, alongside the last active remnants of the Resistance and old Rebellion.

For me, the most gratifying thing about Johnson’s film is he’s not dogmatic about his themes of moving on, his iconoclast­ic statements about heroism or the value of failure — which doesn’t seem to resonate with the part of audience most craving pure escapism.

But these are just concepts to think about, not one-sentence answers. You might want to sit down for this: Johnson is having his characters speak simultaneo­us, contradict­ory truths. It’s your call with which you most agree.

For me, I’ll take this nugget above all — from the mouth of someone still mourning her dead sister: “That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate, saving what we love.”

Rian Johnson pulled that off, the Force with him as he stepped into a larger world.

 ??  ??
 ??  ?? Daisy Ridley’s Rey defies all expectatio­ns in Star Wars: The Last Jedi, creating endless possibilit­ies for the franchise, which is now no longer burdened by its past.
Daisy Ridley’s Rey defies all expectatio­ns in Star Wars: The Last Jedi, creating endless possibilit­ies for the franchise, which is now no longer burdened by its past.
 ??  ?? The character of Kylo Ren — played by Adam Driver — takes a big step forward in Star Wars: The Last Jedi.
The character of Kylo Ren — played by Adam Driver — takes a big step forward in Star Wars: The Last Jedi.
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada