Do you like “Star Wars” or do you not like it?
It seems like a simple question to me.
I mean, if you’re sitting here reading this, chances are, you like this stuff, right? At minimum, you like some of it. But then again, that doesn’t preclude you flaming the hell out of some of the rough bits … or at least fairly critiquing said rough bits (I certainly engage in the latter).
It just seems like a fair question to pose when some people have been so enormously hostile toward some of the films in the series (particularly lately). Because if you’re still on board with some of this material, it doesn’t make sense to me to try to ruin some of the rest of it for others.
Common ground = being a Star Wars fan.
Opinions about the entirety of that universe will differ widely from person to person, so it stands to reason some people will enjoy what you don’t. Some people like the prequels. Some don’t. Some find the teddy bears in “Return of the Jedi” revoltingly offensive. Some love them to pieces. Some people HATE the Disney era. Some of us love it. I don’t think we’re ever going to reach a consensus here on any of it. So, it just doesn’t make any sense to me to devote hours upon hours of dedication to an angry YouTube channel to tear down that which you claim to love.
Do you like “Star Wars” or do you not like it?
“The Last Jedi” — maybe more than any other film in the series — will put you on the spot and demand you answer that question one way or the other.
As the eighth movie in Lucasfilm’s “Skywalker saga,” Rian Johnson’s “The Last Jedi” had a lot to live up to from the outset. George Lucas’ sprawling epic spanned six hugely commercially successful films … and then J.J. Abrams came along to tap into Star Wars nostalgia to the tune of the biggest box office earner in North American history with “The Force Awakens.”*
* “Rogue One,” a film apart from the main saga, itself earned over $1 billion worldwide the following year, in 2016. So yes, a history of huge successes had been established as being the standard.
Those are big footsteps to follow. Complicating matters even further, Johnson had to navigate some pretty tricky narrative limitations imposed by the nostalgic, yet limited “Force Awakens.”
Most pressingly, the giant cliffhanger ending in Episode VII perhaps could have been resolved offscreen, but would anyone have honestly wanted that? It would have been colossally disappointing had we not seen it play out on screen. Everyone coming into this movie wanted to know: What happens next? They found Luke! The journey has concluded. Now what?
But there was even more fallout to deal with. You blew up an entire galaxy’s government and fleet. You killed Han Solo. You left Finn in a coma. You gave us some great new characters, but then left them in a position of still being mystery boxes themselves (particularly as it pertains to Rey’s familial history and Kylo Ren’s backstory). There’s just a LOT here to deal with. And most of it is pressing, timeline-wise. AND audiences wanted it dealt with in a tight, clean narrative and in ways that would surprise and delight.
Oh yeah, AND a large chunk of that audience wants their own specific head canon realized as well.
This is about as tall an order as a filmmaker can have, but let’s also be 100% clear about this: You’re not going to be able to keep everyone happy, no matter what you do. It’s impossible.
So with that table set, we can acknowledge that “The Last Jedi” — despite being a commercial and critical success ($620 million in the U.S., 91% on Rotten Tomatoes) — left audience members split.
Why?
Well, I wrote at the time of release about the power of expectations. I believe this is where most of that split comes from. From that post:
I will maintain this phenomenon, of growing attached to our own “perfect” version of Star Wars, contributes to a complicated, intense reaction to new entries.
… For many fans, a new scene, theme or even detail can be extremely jarring, to the point where a common refrain after the fact is, “[blank] didn’t seem very Star Wars-y.” Expectations eventually adjust, and the new canon is accepted.
Among Star Wars films, “The Last Jedi” certainly does a lot that would qualify as being new or different. And as we saw with “The Phantom Menace,” the Star Wars fandom doesn’t always do super great with “new” and “different.”
Let’s start with the basics, where the question of “How did our heroes let the galaxy turn out like this?” has to of course be answered to advance the narrative in a sensible way. We don’t have any background on Ben’s fall from grace OR what Luke has been up to for the past 30 years. The solution to this narrative pickle is simple — Luke done messed up — BUT, and here’s the fun part, that simple mistake — Luke’s momentary lapse into dark thoughts and nearly assassinating his nephew — is NOT a new development. Luke had similar struggles in “Return of the Jedi,” nearly murdering his own father (and using the Dark Side to do it). No, that’s not new. What IS new is his years of regret and self-flagellation over his mistake.
This is an older man, living in regret, unable to forgive himself, going so far as to shut himself off from a galaxy that needs him. And while it makes all the damn sense in the world, a lot of people didn’t like this.
Many have likewise complained about “Space Leia,” the subplot involving Admiral Holdo and her “secret” plan, the whole damn character of Rose (and she plays super prominently in the Canto Bight sequence, another highly critiqued section of the movie), and even the execution of Rey’s ultimate rebuff of Ben. It is not lost on me that any of those criticisms, taken alone, can be valid complaints about the film’s creative choices, yet taken in whole, they reveal discomfort with feminism in Star Wars. None, save the last one, are critical to the overall narrative. But it’s that last one that matters … and it’s why all those other things exist. The message that women can be as strong and capable as men, if not more so, is the whole damn point here.
Well, maybe not the whole point, because after all, this is still Star Wars. As we mentioned before, the themes of aging brought to bear in Episode VII are a very big deal again here. Luke’s arc, well acted by the esteemed Mark Hamill, is gutting before it becomes uplifting.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, Rey finds a way to remain steadfast in her beliefs, never wavering. She confronts her fears and overcomes them in short order. This is downright refreshing after dealing with eight movies of moody Skywalkers moping around forever and ever.
Her interactions with Ben are next-level for a Star Wars film, subtle and poignant. We don’t have to sit around wondering about familial connections or romantic interest, because those things aren’t the point. Instead, we see two wounded and damaged people finding strength in a connection with another person. After seeing Rey’s isolation in “Force Awakens,” this is enough. It’s so much enough that we openly cheer when Ben kills his abuser, Snoke, and Rey and Ben team up to dispatch a small army of Snoke’s servants in one of the most thrilling sequences in Star Wars history. In the direct aftermath, Ben is presented with an opportunity to find himself and reject hate in the process, and that he doesn’t breaks our hearts. Rey eventually has no choice but to literally shut the door on him.
Contrast THAT with every character’s refusal to properly acknowledge Anakin’s fall in the previous movies. The solution was to try to kill it, then ignore it, then to cover it up, then to try to justify/redeem it. I mean, hell. Think about turning to the Dark Side as a metaphor for addiction, and the effed-up ways it gets dealt with in previous films, versus the firm, loving, capable way it’s dealt with by Rey here, become striking.
The Star Wars films had also previously never really dealt with austerity before. Institutionalized subjugation has been around since the outset, as it is made clear in “A New Hope” that the Empire isn’t a very desirable entity to have to live under. Many of the subsequent films have made that point even clearer. But the role of the wealthy in keeping others down had rarely been discussed so openly until now.*
* The most obvious examples might be Anakin’s slavery in “Phantom Menace” and Rey’s difficulty in selling scrap for food in “Force Awakens,” but the biggest [sic] allegory for the downside to capitalism is probably Jabba the Hut, a grotesque literal slug who preys on the weak and flaunts his power.
It’s not an accident that Canto Bight exists (or that the next film to be released would address the struggles of the working class). It gives our characters an excuse to speak to the complicity of the wealthy in the atrocities we must all face on a daily basis. As Yoda might say, subtle, this is not.
Remarkably, “The Last Jedi” might also be the first film in this universe to really ask what it means to be a leader. Until now, acts of heroism and engagement in the cause have been sufficient to turn former miscreants into generals. Rian Johnson subverts this trope entirely with Poe’s arc, humbling the character to allow him to see the proper path to leadership: good judgement and respect for our comrades.
Valuing life along with the cause itself is what separates us from the enemy.
Luke’s final, desperate act shows us this lesson better than anything. Some people didn’t care for his end, but my goodness, you couldn’t find something more in-character for Luke if you tried. A pacifist approach, standing up to evil, saving his friends and family … and done on a grandly epic scale. Even better, the “force connection” that Rey and Ben experienced earlier in the movie goes from being a clever plot device to being THE clever plot device. The callback is phenomenally brilliant.
As the second act of a three-film play, I’ll admit that my first viewing of “The Last Jedi” was a lot more “Attack of the Clones” for me than “Empire Strikes Back.” This middle chapter produced some genuine moments of cringe (mixed with its moments of delight), and I even wondered to myself during the viewing itself, “Is Star Wars jumping the shark for me?”
Ultimately, no. Additional viewings have settled my feelings on the movie considerably, to the point where I now believe this is one of the most unique, challenging pieces of art in the Star Wars universe.
I love what this movie does with Luke Skywalker, paying proper respect to his actions in “Return of the Jedi” and building off of them.
Rey and Ben continue to amaze and intrigue, and I’m more curious than ever about where they’ll end up.
I like a great deal that this movie shares similarities with “Revenge of the Sith,” in particular how its structure mirrors the prequel almost note for note. [ Big space battle –> temptation presented to our hero –> lots of people die –> heroes suffer setback after setback –> final titanic battle results in heroes on the run in the shadows with the villains in control of the galaxy ]
I enjoy very much that the movie is not at all predictable, while simultaneously paying off the notes that had been played in previous movies.
It provides me joy that this movie does NOT end with loose threads hanging all over the place, both because it’s such an unexpected direction to take things, but also because of the creative freedom it gives J.J. Abrams for Episode IX.
It’s the new in Star Wars that’s the most difficult to accept, but also the most rewarding. I always go into these movies hoping to see something new. And without fail, Star Wars always delivers.
Do you even still like “Star Wars?”
Yes. Yes, I do.
Because it’s new.
Liked this post? Check out:
My retrospective on “Rogue One”
My retrospective on “The Force Awakens”
My retrospective on “Revenge of the Sith”
My retrospective on “Attack of the Clones”
My retrospective on “The Phantom Menace”
My retrospective on “Return of the Jedi”
My retrospective on “The Empire Strikes Back”
My retrospective on “Star Wars: A New Hope”