#hi anton hi can you just take me away and replace me with a clone so that nobody will be sad that i’m gone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ariainstars · 4 years

Text

Thank You, Disney Lucasfilm… For Destroying My Dreams

Warning: longer post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So… I watched The Rise of Skywalker on Disney+ a few weeks ago. Again.

Sigh.

I guess it has its good sides. But professional critics tend to dislike it and even the general audience doesn’t go crazy for it. I wonder why?

The Fantasy

When his saga became a groundbreaking pop phenomenon in the 1970es, George Lucas reportedly said that he wanted to tell fairy tales again in world that no longer seemed to offer young people a chance to grow up with them. The fact that his saga was met with such unabashed, international enthusiasm proves that he was right: people long for fairy tales no matter how old they are and what culture they belong to.

“Young people today don’t have a fantasy life anymore, not the way we did… All they’ve got is Kojak and Dirty Harry. All the films they see are movies of disasters and insecurity and realistic violence.” (George Lucas)

I’ve been a Star Wars fan for more than thirty years. I love the Original Trilogy but honestly it did not make me dream much, perhaps because when I saw it the trilogy was already complete. The Prequel Trilogy also did not inspire my fantasy.

The Last Jedi accomplished something that no TV show, book or film had managed in years: it made me dream. The richness of colorful characters, multifaceted themes, unexpected developments, intriguing relationships was something I had not come across in a long time: it fascinated me. I felt like a giddy teenager reading up meta’s, writing my own and imagining all sorts of beautiful endings for the saga for almost two years.

So if there’s something The Rise of Skywalker can pride itself on for me, it’s that it crushed almost every dream I had about it. The few things I had figured out – Rey’s fall to the Dark, Ben Solo’s redemption, the connection between them - did not even make me happy because they were tainted by the flatness of the storytelling reducing the Force to a superpower again (like the general audience seems to believe it is), and its deliberate ignoring of almost all messages of The Last Jedi.

Many fans of the Original Trilogy also were disillusioned by the saga over the decades and ranted at the studios for “destroying their childhood”. Now we, the fans of the sequels and in particular of The Last Jedi, are in the same situation… but the thought doesn’t make the pill much easier to swallow. What grates on my nerves is the feeling that someone trampled on my just newly found dreams like a naughty child kicking a doll’s house apart. Why give us something to dream of in the first place, then? To a certain extent I can understand that many fans would angrily assume that Disney Lucasfilm made the Sequel Trilogy for the purpose of destroying their idea of the saga. The point is that they had their happy ending, while every dream the fans of the Sequel Trilogy may have had was shattered with this unexpectedly flat and hollow final note.

I know many fans who dislike the Prequel Trilogy heartily. I also prefer the Original Trilogy, but I find the prequels all right in their own way, also since I gave them some thought. However, it can’t be denied that they lack the magic spark which made the Original Trilogy so special. Which makes sense since they are not a fairy tale but ultimately a tragedy, but in my opinion it’s the one of the main reasons why the Prequel Trilogy never was quite so successful, or so beloved.

Same goes for Rogue One, Solo, or Clone Wars. They’re ok in their way, but not magical.

The sequel trilogy started quite satisfyingly with The Force Awakens, but for me, the actual bomb dropped with The Last Jedi. Reason? It was a magical story. It had the spark again that I had missed in the new Star Wars stories for decades! And it was packed full of beautiful messages and promises.

The Force is not a superpower belonging solely to the Jedi Anyone can be a hero. Even the greatest heroes can fail, but they will still be heroes. Hope is like the sun: if you only believe in it when you see it you’ll never make it through the night. Failure is the greatest teacher. It’s more important to save the light than to seem a hero. No one is never truly gone. War is only a machine. Dark Side and Light Side can be unbeatable if they are allies. Save what you love instead of destroying what you hate.

Naively, I assumed the trilogy would continue and end in that same magical way. And then came The Rise of Skywalker… which looks and feels like a Marvel superhero story at best and an over-long videogame at worst.

Chekov’s Gun

“Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.”

(Anton Chekov, 1860 - 1904)

If you show an important looking prop and don’t put it to use, it leaves the audience feeling baffled. There is a huge difference between a story’s setup, and the audience’s feeling of entitlement. E.g. many viewers expected Luke to jump right back into the fray in Episode VIII, because that’s what a hero does, isn’t it? The cavalry comes and saves the day. And instead, we met a disillusioned elderly hermit who is tired of the ways of the Jedi. But there was no actual reason for disappointment: in Episode VII it was very clearly said (through Han, his best friend) that Luke had gone into exile on purpose, feeling responsible for his failure in teaching a new generation of Jedi. It would have been more than stupid to show him as an all-powerful and all-knowing man who kills the bad guys. Sorry but who expected that was a victim to his own prejudice.

A promise left unfulfilled is a different story. The Last Jedi set up a lot of promises that didn’t come true in The Rise of Skywalker: Balance as announced by the Jedi temple mosaic, a new Jedi Order hinted at by Luke on Crait, a good ending for Ben and Rey set up by the hand-touching scene which was opposite to Anakin’s and Padmés wedding scene. Many fans were annoyed about the Canto Bight sequence. I liked it because it felt like the set-up for a lot of important stuff: partnership between Finn and Rose whom we see working together excellently, freedom for the enslaved children (one of whom is Force-sensitive), DJ and Rose expressing what makes wars in general foolish and beside the point. So if we, the fans of Episode VIII, now feel angry and let down, I daresay it’s not due to entitlement. We were announced magical outcomes and not just pew-pew.

The Star Wars saga never repeated itself but always developed and enlarged its themes, so it was to be expected that delving deeper, uncomfortable truths would come out: wars don’t start out of nowhere, and they don’t flare up and continue for decades for the same reason. In order to find Balance, the Jedi’s and the Skywalker family’s myths needed to be dismantled. Which is not necessarily bad as long it is explained how things came to this, and a better alternative is offered. The prequels explained the old political order and the beginnings of the Skywalker family, and announced that the next generation would do better. The sequels hardly explained anything about the 30 years that passed since our heroes won the battle against the Empire, and while The Last Jedi hinted at the future a lot, The Rise of Skywalker seemed to make a point of ignoring all of it.

The Skywalker Family Is Obliterated. Why?

Luke was proven right that his nephew would mean the end of everything he loved. The lineage of the Chosen One is gone. His grandson had begun where Vader had ended - tormented, pale and with sad eyes - and he met the same fate. Luke, Han, Leia, all sacrificed themselves to bring Ben Solo back for nothing. Him being the reincarnation of the Chosen One and getting a new chance should have been meaningful for all of them; instead, he literally left the scepter to Rey who did nothing to deserve it: merely because she killed the Bad Guy does not mean she will do a better job than the family whose name and legacy she proudly takes over.

I do hope there was a good reason if the sequels did not tell “The New Adventures of Luke, Leia and Han” and instead showed us a broken family on the eve of its wipeout. It would have been much easier, and more fun for the audience, to bring the trio back again after a few years and pick up where they had left. Instead we had to watch their son, nephew and heir go his grandfather’s way - born with huge power, branded as Meant to Be Dangerous from the start, tried his best to be a Jedi although he wanted to be a pilot, never felt accepted, abandoned in the moment of his greatest need, went to his abuser because he was the only one to turn to, became a criminal, his own family (in Anakin’s case: Obi-Wan and Yoda) trained the person who was closest to him to kill him, sacrificed himself for this person and died. And in his case, it’s particularly frustrating because Kylo Ren wasn’t half as impressive a villain as Vader, and Ben Solo had a very limited time of heroism and personal fulfilment, contrarily to Anakin when he was young.

The impact of The Rise of Skywalker was traumatic for some viewers. I know of adolescents and adults, victims of family abandonment and abuse, who identified with Ben: they were told that you can never be more than the sum of your abuse and abandonment, and that they’re replaceable if they’re not “good”. Children identifying with Rey were told that their parents might sell them away for “protection”. Rey was not conflicted, she had a few doubts but overall, she was cool about everything she did, so she got everything on a silver platter; that’s why as a viewer, after a while you stopped caring for her. Her antagonist was doomed from birth because he dared to question the choices other people made for him. It seems that in the Star Wars universe, you can only “rise” if you’re either a criminal but cool because you’ve always got a bucket over your head (Vader / the Mandalorian) or are a saint-like figure (Luke / Rey).

One of Obi-Wan’s first actions in A New Hope is cutting off someone’s arm who was only annoying him; Han Solo, ditto. These were no acts of self-defense. The Mandalorian is an outlaw. Yet they are highly popular. Why? Because they always keep their cool, so anything they do seems justified. Young Anakin was hated, Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen attacked for his portrayal. For the same reason many fans feel that Luke is the least important of the original trio although basically the Original Trilogy is his story: it seems the general audience hates nothing more than emotionality in a guy. They want James Bond, Batman or Indiana Jones as the lead. Padmé loved Anakin because she always saw the good little boy he once was in him; his attempts at impressing her with his flirting or his masculinity failed. Kylo tried to impress Rey with his knowledge and power, but she fled from him - she wanted the gentle, emphatic young man who had listened to her when she felt alone. Good message. But both died miserably, and Ben didn’t even get anything but a kiss. Realizing that his “not being as strong as Darth Vader” might actually be a strength of its own would have meant much more.

The heroes of the Original Trilogy had their adventures together and their happy ending; the heroes of the Prequel Trilogy also had good times and accomplishments in their youth, before everything went awry. Rey, Finn and Poe feel like their friendship hardly got started; Rose was almost obliterated from the narrative; and Ben Solo seems to have had only one happy moment in his entire life. Of course it’s terrible that he committed patricide (even if it was under coercion), but Anakin / Vader himself had two happy endings in the Prequel Trilogy before he became the monster we know so well. Not to mention Clone Wars, where he has heroic moments unnumbered.

The Skywalker family is obliterated without Balance in the Force, and the young woman who inherited all doesn’t seem to have learned any lesson from all this. The Original Trilogy became a part of pop culture among other things because its ending was satisfying. We can hardly be expected to be satisfied with an ending where our heroes are all dead and the heir of their worst enemy takes over. What good was the happy ending of the Original Trilogy for if they didn’t learn enough from their misadventures to learn how to protect one single person - their son and nephew, their future?

For a long time, I also thought that the saga was about Good vs. Evil. Watching the prequels again, I came to the conclusion that it is rather about Love vs. War. And now, considering as a whole, I believe it to be essentially Jedi against Skywalker. The ending, as it is now, says that both fractions lost: they annihilated one another, leaving a third party in charge, who believes to be both but actually knows very little about them.

Star Wars and Morality

After 9 films and 42 years, it still is not possible to make the general audience accept that it is wrong to divide people between Good and Evil in the first place. The massive rejection of both prequels and sequels, which have moral grey zones galore, shows it.

It is also not possible without being accused of actual blasphemy in the same fandom, to say the plain truth that no Skywalker ever was a Jedi at heart. As their name says, they’re pilots. Luke was the last and strongest of all Jedi because he always was first and foremost himself. Anakin was crushed by the Jedi’s attempts to stifle his feelings. His grandson, too. A Force-sensitive person ought to have the choice whether they want to be a Jedi or not; they ought not to be taught to suppress their emotions and live only on duty, without really caring for other people; and they ought to grow up feeling in a safe and loving environment, not torn away from their families in infancy, indoctrinated and provided with a light sabre (a deadly weapon) while they’re still small. A Jedi order composed of child soldiers or know-it-all’s does not really help anybody.

The original Star Wars saga was about love and friendship; although many viewers did not want to understand that message. The prequels portrayed the Jedi as detached and arrogant and Anakin Skywalker sympathetically, a huge disappointment for who only accepts stories of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. The Last Jedi was so hated that The Rise of Skywalker backpedaled: sorry, of course you’re right, here you have your “hero who knows everything better and fixes everything for you on a silver platter”. The embarrassing antihero, who saves the girl who was the only person showing him some human compassion, can die miserably in the process and is not even mourned.

Honestly: I was doubtful whether it would be adequate to give Ben Solo a happy ending after the patricide. I guess letting him die was the easiest way out for the authors to escape censorship. (I even wrote this in a review on amazon about The Last Jedi, before I delved deeper into the saga’s themes.) The messages we got now are even worse.

Kylo Ren / Ben Solo

A parent can replace a child if they’re not the way they expect them to be. A victim of lifelong psychical and physical abuse can only find escape in death, whether he damns or redeems himself. An introspective, sensitive young man is a loser no matter how hard he tries either way. A whole family can sacrifice itself to save their heir, he dies anyway.

Rey

Self-righteousness is acceptable as long as you find a scapegoat for your own failings. Overconfidence justifies anything you do. You can’t carve your way as a female child of “nobodies”, you have to descend from someone male and powerful even if that someone is the devil incarnate. You are a “strong female” if you choose to be lonely; you need neither a partner nor friends.

In General

Star Wars is not about individual choices, loyalty, friendship and love, it is a classic Western story with a lonesome cowboy (in this case: cowgirl) at its centre. Satisfied?

The father-son-relationship between Vader and Luke mirrors the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, saying that whoever we may want to kill is, in truth, our kin, which makes a clear separation in Good and Evil impossible. The “I am your father” scene is so infamous by now that even non-fans are aware of it; but this relationship between evil guy and good guy, as well as the plot turns where the villain saves the hero and that the hero discards his weapon are looked upon rather as weird narrative quirks instead of a moral.

In an action movie fan, things are simple: good guy vs. bad guy, the good guy (e.g. James Bond may be a murderer and a misogynist, but that’s ok because he’s cool about it) kills the bad guy, ka-boom, end of story. But Star Wars is a parable, an ambitious project told over decades of cinema, and a multilayered story with recurring themes.

A fairy tale ought to have a moral. The moral of both Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy was compassionate love - choose it and you can end a raging conflict, reject it and you will cause it. What was the moral of the Sequel Trilogy? You can be the offspring of the galaxy’s worst terror and display a similar attitude, but pose as a Jedi and kill unnecessarily, and it’s all right; descend from Darth Vader (who himself was a victim long before he became a culprit) and whether you try to become a Jedi trained by Luke Skywalker or a Sith trained by his worst enemy, you will end badly?

Both original and prequel trilogy often showed “good” people making bad choices and the “bad ones” making the right choices. To ensure lasting peace, no Force user ought to be believe that he must choose one side and then stick to it for the rest of his life: both sides need one another. The prequels took 3 films to convey this message, though not saying so openly. The Last Jedi said it out clearly - and the authors almost had their heads ripped off by affronted fans, resulting in The Rise of Skywalker’s fan service. It’s not like Luke, Han and Leia were less heroic in the Sequel Trilogy, on the contrary, they gave everything they had to their respective cause. They were not united, and they were more human than they had once been. Apparently, that’s an affront.

The Jedi are no perfect heroes and know-it-all’s and they never were, the facts are there for everyone to see. Padmé went alone and pregnant to get her husband out of Mustafar - and she almost succeeded - although she knew what he had done and that he was perfectly capable of it (he had told her of the Tusken village massacre himself) because she still saw the good little boy he had been in him; Obi-Wan left him amputated and burning in the lava, although he had raised Anakin like a small brother and the latter had repeatedly saved his life. But Padmé was not a Jedi, so I guess she still had some human decency. Neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda lifted a finger for the oppressed populations of the galaxy during the Empire, waiting instead for Anakin’s son to grow up so they could trick him into committing patricide. Neither Luke nor Leia did anything for their own son and nephew while he became the scourge of the galaxy, damning his soul by committing crime after crime. On Exegol, Rey heard the voices of all Jedi encouraging her to fight Palpatine to death. After that, they left her to die alone, and the alleged “bad guy”, who had already saved her soul from giving in to Palpatine’s lures, had to save her life by giving her his own. The Jedi merely know that “their side” has to win, no matter the cost for anyone’s life, sanity, integrity or happiness.

Excuse me, these are simple facts. How anyone can still believe that the Jedi were super-powerful heroes who always win or all-knowing wizards who are always right is beyond me. Luke, the last and strongest of them, like a bright flickering of light before the ultimate end, showed us that the best of men can fail. There is nothing wrong with that in itself. But it is wrong and utterly frustrating when all of the failure never leads to anything better. If Rey means to rebuild the Jedi order to something better than it was, there was no hint at that whatsoever.

And What Now?

The Last Jedi hit theatres only 2 years before The Rise of Skywalker, and I can’t imagine that the responsible authors all have forgotten how to make competent work in the meantime; more so considering that Solo or The Mandalorian are solid work. Episode IX is thematically so painfully flat it seems like they wanted us to give up on the saga on purpose. The last instalment of a 42-year-old saga ought to have been the best and most meaningful. I had heard already decades ago that the saga was supposed to have 9 chapters, so I was not among who protested against the sequels thinking that they had been thought up to make what had come before invalid. I naively assumed a larger purpose. But Episode IX only seems to prove these critics perfectly right.

The last of the flesh and blood of the Chosen One is dead without having “finished what his grandfather started”?

Still no Balance in the Force?

And worst of all, Palpatine’s granddaughter taking over, having proven repeatedly that she is not suited for the task?

Sorry, this “ending” is absurd. I have read fanfiction that was better written and more interesting. And, most of all, less depressing. I was counting on a conclusion that showed that the Force has all colours and nuances, and that it’s not limited to the black-and-white view “we against them”. That’s the ending all of us fans would have deserved, instead of catering the daddy issues of the part of the audience who doesn’t want stories other than those of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. I myself grew up on Japanese anime, maybe that’s one of the reasons why I can’t stand guys like James Bond or Batman and why I think you don’t need “a great hero who fixes the situation” but that group spirit and communication are way more important.

It was absolutely unexpected that Disney, the production company whose trademark are happy endings and family stories, would end this beloved and successful saga after almost half a century on such a hollow note. Why tell first a beautiful fairy tale and then leave the audience on a hook for 35 years to continue first with a tragedy (which at least was expected) and then with another (unexpected one)? And this story is supposed to be for children? Like children would understand all of the subtext, and love sad, cautionary tales. Children, as well as the general audience, first of all want to be entertained! No one wants to watch the legendary Skywalker family be obliterated and a Palpatine take over. The sequels were no fun anymore; we’ve been left with another open ending and hardly an explanation about what happened in the 30 years in between. If you want to tell a cautionary tale, you should better warn the general audience beforehand.

The Original Trilogy is so good because it’s entertaining and offers room for thought for who wants to think about its deeper themes, and also leaves enough space for dreams. Same goes for the first two films of the Sequel Trilogy; but precisely the last, which should have wrapped up the saga, leaves us with a bitter aftertaste and dozens of questions marks.

We as the audience believe that a story, despite the tragic things that happen, must go somewhere; we get invested into the characters, we root for them, we want to see them happy in the end. (The authors of series like Girls, How I Met Your Mother or Game of Thrones ought to be reminded of that, too.) I was in contact with children and teenagers saying that the Sequel Trilogy are “boring”; and many, children or adults, who were devastated by its concluson. There is a difference between wanting to tell a cautionary tale and playing the audience for fools. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. Who watches a family or fantasy story or a romantic / comedic sitcom wants to escape into another world, not to be hit over his head with a mirror to his own failings, and the ones of the society he’s living in. Messages are all right, but they ought not to go at the cost of the audience’s satisfaction about the about the people and narrative threads they have invested in for years.

This isn’t a family story: but children probably didn’t pester the studios with angry e-mails and twitter messages etc. They simply counted on a redemption arc and happy ending, and they were right, because they’re not as stupid as adults are. I have read and watched many a comment from fans who hate The Last Jedi. Many of these fans couldn’t even pinpoint what their rage was all about, they only proved to be stuck with the original trilogy and unwilling to widen their horizon. But at least their heroes had had their happy ending: The Rise of Skywalker obliterated the successes of all three generations of Skywalkers.

If the film studios wanted to tease us, they’ve excelled. If they expect the general audience to break their heads over the sequels’ metaphysics, they have not learned from the reactions to the prequels that most viewers take these films at face value. Not everybody is elbows-deep in the saga, or willing to research about it for months, and / or insightful enough to see the story’s connections. Which is why many viewers frown at the narrative and believe the Sequel Trilogy was just badly written. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. As it is now, the whole trilogy is hanging somewhere in the air, with neither a past nor a future to be tied in with.

The prequels already had the flaw of remaining too obscure: most fans are not aware that Anakin had unwillingly killed his wife during the terrible operation that turned him into Darth Vader, sucking her life out of her through the Force: most go by “she died of a broken heart”. So although one scene mirrors the other, it is not likely that most viewers will understand what Rey’s resurrection meant. And: Why did Darth Maul kill Qui-Gon Jinn? What did the Sith want revenge for? Who was behind Shmi’s abduction and torture? Who had placed the order for the production of the clones, and to what purpose? We can imagine or try to reconstruct the answers, but nothing is confirmed by the story itself.

The sequels remained even more in the dark, obfuscating what little explanation we got in The Rise of Skywalker with quick pacing and mind-numbing effects.

Kylo Ren had promised his grandfather that “he would finish what he started”: he did not. Whatever one can say of this last film, it did not bring Balance in the Force. What’s worse, the subject was not even breached. It was hinted at by the mosaic on the floor of the Prime Jedi Temple on Ahch-To, but although Luke and Rey were sitting on its border, they never seemed to see what was right under their noses. It remains inexplicable why it was there for everyone to see in the first place.

We might argue that Ben finished what his grandfather started by killing (or better, causing the death of) the last Jedi, who this one couldn’t kill because he was his own son; but leaving Rey in charge, he helped her finish what her grandfather had started. The irony could hardly be worse.

Episode IX looks like J.J. Abrams simply completed what they started with Episode VII, largely ignoring the next film as if it was always planned to do so. We, the angry and disappointed fans of The Last Jedi, may believe it was due to some of the general audience’s angry backlash, but honestly: the studios aren’t that dumb. They had to know that Episode VIII would be controversial and that many fans would hate it. The furious reactions were largely a disgrace, but no one can make me believe that they were totally unexpected. Nor can anyone convince me that The Rise of Skywalker was merely an answer to the small but very loud part of the audience who hated The Last Jedi: a company with the power and the returns of Disney Lucasfilm does not need to buckle down before some fan’s entitlement and narrowmindedness out of fear of losing money. And if they do, it was foolish to make Rey so perfect that she becomes almost odious, and to let the last of the Skywalker blood die a meaningless death. (Had he saved the Canto Bight children and left them with Rey, at least he would have died with honor; and she, the child left behind by her parents, would have had a task to dedicate herself to.)

The only reason I can find for this odd ending is that it’s meant to prepare the way for Rian Johnson’s new trilogy, which - hopefully - will finally be about Balance. We as the audience don’t know what’s going on behind the doors. Filmmaking is a business like any other, i.e. based on contracts; and I first heard that Rian Johnson had negotiated a trilogy of his own since before Episode VIII hit theatres. Maybe he kept all the rights of intellectual property to his own film, including that he would finish the threads he picked up and close the narrative circles he opened, and only he; and that his alleged working on “something completely different” is deliberately misleading.

Some viewers love the original trilogy, some love the prequels, some like both; but I hardly expect anyone to love the sequel trilogy as a whole. What with the first instalment “letting the past die, killing it if they had to”, the second hinting at a promising future and the third patched on at the very last like some sort of band-aid, it was not coherent. I heard the responsible team for Game of Thrones even dropped their work, producing a dissatisfying, quickly sewn together last season, for this new Star Wars project and thereby disappointing millions of GoT fans; I hope they are aware of the expectations they have loaded upon them. George Lucas’ original trilogy had its faults, but but though there was no social media yet in his time, at least he was still close enough to the audience to give them what they needed, if not necessarily wanted. (Some fans can’t accept that Luke and Leia are siblings to this day, even if honestly, it was the very best plot twist to finish their story in a satisfying way.)

I’m hoping for now that The Last Jedi was not some love bombing directed at the more sentimental viewers but a promise that will be fulfilled. “Wrapping up” a saga by keeping the flattest, least convincing chapter for last is bad form. Star Wars did not become a pop phenomenon by accident, but because the original story was convincing and satisfying. Endings like these will hardly make anyone remember a story fondly, on the contrary, the audience will move to another fandom to forget their disappointment.

On a side note, I like The Mandalorian, exactly for the reason that that is a magical story; not as much as the original trilogy, but at least a little. Of course, I’m glad it was produced. But it’s a small consolation prize after the mess that supposedly wrapped up the original saga after 9 films.

We’re Not Blind, You Know…

- Though Kylo Ren (Ben Solo) has Darth Vader’s stature, his facial features are practically opposite to Vader’s creepy mask. This should have foreshadowed that his life should have gone the other way, instead of more or less repeating itself. - As a villain Kylo was often unconvincing; by all logic he should have been a good father figure. (Besides, Star Wars films or series never work unless there is a strong father or father figure at their center.)

- Like Vader, Kylo Ren was redeemed, but not rehabilitated. Who knows who may find his broken mask somewhere now and, not knowing the truth, promise “I will finish what you started”. - The hand-touching scene on Ahch-To which was visually opposite to Anakin’s and Padmé’s should not have predicted another tragedy but a happy ending for them. - The Canto Bight sequence was announcing reckoning for the weapon industry and freedom for the enslaved children. It also showed how well Finn and Rose fit together. - Rey was a good girl before she started on her adventures. Like Anakin or Luke, she did not need to become a Jedi to be strong or generous or heroic. - Rey summons Palpatine after one year of training. Kylo practically begged for his grandfather’s assistance for years, to no avail. Her potential for darkness is obviously much stronger. - Dark Rey’s light sabre looked like a fork, Kylo’s like a cross. - The last time all Jedi and Sith were obliterated leaving only Luke in charge, things went awry. Now we have a Palpatine masquerading as a Skywalker and believing she’s a Jedi. Rey is a usurper and universally cheered after years of war, like her grandfather. - The broom boy of Canto Bight looked like he was sweeping a stage and announcing “Free the stage, it’s time for us, the children.”

Rey failed in all instances where Luke had proved himself (so much for feminism and her being a Mary Sue): - Luke had forgiven his father despite all the pain he had inflicted on him. She stabbed the „bad guy”, who had repeatedly protected and comforted her, to death. - Luke never asked Vader to help the Rebellion or to turn to the Light Side, he only wanted him back as his father. She assumed that you could make Ben Solo turn, give up the First Order and join the Resistance for her. She thought of her friends and of her own validation, not of him. - Luke had made peace by choosing peace. Rey fought until the bitter end. - Luke had thrown his weapon away before Palpatine. Rey picked up a second weapon. (And both of them weren’t even her own.) - Luke had mourned his dead father. Rey didn’t shed a tear for the man she is bonded to by the Force. - Luke went back to his friends to celebrate the new peace with them. Rey went back letting everyone celebrate her like the one who saved the galaxy on her own, she who were tempted to become the new evil ruler of the galaxy and had to rely on the alleged Bad Guy to save both her soul and her body. - Luke had embodied compassion when Palpatine was all about hatred. Where he chose love and faith in his father, she chose violence and fear. - Luke had briefly fallen prey to the Dark Side but it made him realize that he had no right to judge his father. Rey’s fall to the Dark Side did not make her wiser. - Rey has no change of mind on finding out that she’s Palpatine’s flesh and blood, nor after she has stabbed Kylo. Luke had to face himself on learning that he had almost become a patricide. Rey does not have to face herself: the revelation of her ancestry is cushioned by Luke’s and Leia’s support. Rey is and remains an uncompromising person who hardly learns from her faults.

This is cheating on the audience. And it's not due to feminism or Rey being some sort of “Mary Sue” the way many affronted fans claim. Kylo never was truly a villain, Rey is not a heroine, and this is not a happy ending. The Jedi, with their stuck-up conviction “only we must win”, have failed all over again. The Skywalker family was obliterated leaving their worst enemy in charge. Rey is supposed to be a “modern” heroine which young girls can take as an example? No, thank you. Not after this last film has made of her. Padmé was a much better role model, combining intelligence with strength and goodness and also female grace. The world does not need entitled female brats.

Bonus: What Made The Rise of Skywalker a Farce

- The Force Awakens was an ok film and The Last Jedi (almost) a masterpiece. The Rise of Skywalker was a cartoon. No wonder a lot of the acting felt and looked wooden. - “I will earn your brother’s light sabre.” She’s holding his father’s sabre. - Kylo in The Last Jedi: “Let the past die. Kill it if, you have to.” Beginning with me? - Rey ends up on Tatooine. - The planet both Anakin and Luke ardently wanted to leave. - Luke had promised his nephew that he would be around for him. - Nope. - Rey had told Ben that she had seen his future. What future was that - “you will be a hero for ten minutes, get a kiss and then die? (And they didn’t even get a love theme.) - “The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead.” On a desert planet with a few ghosts. What of the ocean she used to dream about? - Ben and Rey were both introduced as two intensely lonely people searching for belonging. We learn they are a Force dyad, and then they are torn apart again. - Why was Ben named for Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first place, if they have absolutely nothing in common? - The Throne Room battle scene in The Last Jedi was clearly showing that when they are in balance, Light Side and Dark Side are unbeatable. Why did the so-called “Light Side” have to win again, in The Rise of Skywalker, instead of finding balance? - Luke’s scene on Ahch-To was so ridiculously opposite to his attitude in The Last Jedi that by now I believe he was a fantasy conjectured by her. (Like Ben’s vision of his father.) - Anakin’s voice among the other Jedi’s. - He was a renegade, for Force’s sake. - The kiss between two females. - More fan service, to appease those who pretended that not making Poe and Finn a couple was a sign of homophobia. - We see the Knights of Ren, but we learn absolutely nothing about them or Kylo’s connection with them. - Rose Tico’s invalidation. - A shame after what the actress had gone through because for the fans she was “not Star-Wars-y” (chubby and lively instead of wiry and spitfire). - Finn’s and Rose’s relationship. - Ignored without any explanation. - Finn may or may not be Force-sensitive. - If he is: did he abandon the First Order not due to his own free will but because of some higher willpower? Great. - General Hux was simply obliterated. - In The Force Awakens he was an excellent foil to Kylo Ren; no background story, no humanization for him. - Chewie’s and 3PO’s faked deaths. - Useless additional drama. - The Force Awakens was a bow before the classic trilogy. The Rise of Skywalker kicked its remainders to pieces. - The Prequel Trilogy ended with hope, the Original Trilogy with love. The Sequel Trilogy ends on a blank slate. - “We are what they grow beyond.” The characters of the Sequel Trilogy did not grow beyond the heroes of the Original Trilogy. - The Jedi did not learn from their mistakes and were obliterated. The Skywalker family understood the mistakes they had made too late. Now they’re gone, too.

P.S. While I was watching The Rise of Skywalker my husband came in asked me since when I like Marvel movies. I said “That’s not a Marvel movie, it’s Star Wars.” I guess that says enough.

P.P.S. For the next trilogy, please at least let the movies hit theatres in May again instead of December. a) It’s tradition for Star Wars films, b) Whatever happens, at least you won’t ruin anyone’s Christmases. Thank you.

420 notes · View notes

navpike · 6 years

Text

Things Unseen: Chapter 3

Steve's known almost his whole life that his anchor was going to be one of the Kelly-Kalakaua family, the only ones strong enough to tie him to the Seen when he needed to talk to a spirit. What he did not know was how important a cop from Jersey who doesn't believe in ghosts would end up being.

In which Steve and Kono are peak mlm/wlw solidarity, Danny is a wreck, Chin is tired and there are some ghosts.

Chapter Three: Forward [on ao3]

Steve plunges head-first into the Unseen so fast he almost can’t stop himself. Even when he does get his feet under him, he can’t get his bearings for far too long. Finally, distantly, he hears Kono’s voice.

“Steve, goddammit, come back! Where are you? Come on, Steve. Steve!” she shouts, and it’s echoing in his head and all around him and there’s something just a little bit off about that, but he doesn’t question it.

“I’m here,” he finally makes himself say. He hears Kono sigh.

“Scared me for a second boss. You were lost for a minute there.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes half heartedly. He glances around. He vaguely recognizes this as Kuhio Avenue, but he knows that doesn’t mean anything. This might be Broadway Avenue to someone else, or Park Street to another, or Sunset Boulevard to another. The Unseen is always in flux, it molds, at least superficially, to who is observing it. None of these buildings are real, Steve knows. They’re here because the Unseen thinks he needs a familiar environment.

To hunt down Victor Hesse’s spirit, he really does.

“You remember what you’re doing there boss?” Kono’s voices rings out, and Steve almost flinches in surprise.

“I remember,” he says, and he begins his search.

He reaches out with every part of himself, stretching himself as far as possible to seek out the spirit of his father’s killer. Distantly, he brushes on Anton Hesse’s spirit, and jerks far away from that. He doesn’t need to be stirring up anything with an angry spirit. Seeking out a lost soul is difficult enough as it is.

As he reaches out into the depths of the Unseen, he wanders the hazy construct of the streets of Waikiki, searching and searching and searching. Kono calls out to him a few times, but he doesn’t answer. Something seems off, just enough to raise Steve’s hackles.

He opens a door and it gives way to empty space and another street and he knows that’s how the Unseen works, but something’s wrong. He’s having a strong feeling of dejavu, but he can’t pinpoint what’s wrong here. He steps through the door and he’s suddenly no longer alone. Danny is standing there, in one of his stupid ties, with his slicked back hair, and hands tucked into the pockets of his impractical slacks. Steve’s heart stutters.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Danny says, all heavy Jersey accent, but it’s not full of fire like usual. It’s deliberate quiet, reserved anger and careful calm. It is not the Danny he knows, and Steve’s brow creases in concern. “Your plan worked? You think it worked? You got me shot,” Danny snaps, and suddenly there’s red running on his shirt, he’s bleeding, there are bullet wounds in his chest.

“Danny!” Steve cries out, and he rushes forward, reaches out for his partner, only to find a still smoking gun in his hand.

“You did this to me,” Danny hisses, and then he is not Danny anymore, his face twisting and contorting into something inhuman and horrifying and Steve drops the gun and stumbles back, only he can’t drop the gun, it’s sticking to his hand like someone’s glued it to him, like it’s a part of him, and all at once everything comes crashing down around his shoulders. The world is crumbling around him and compacting to crush him in it’s vice like grip and Victor’s voice is shoving it’s way into his head and drowning out Kono’s reassurances that he’s okay, and Steve’s screaming, even though he can’t even hear his own voice--

Steve jerks awake, panting and gasping for breath. He reaches blindly for a weapon before he registers that he’s alone, in his bed, in his own home. He’s safe. He flops back onto the mattress and lets out a deep sigh. His hands tremble just enough to notice as he runs one through his sweat damp hair.

It was just a dream.

A dream of a memory, but a dream nonetheless. When he had gone in search of Victor Hesse’s spirit in reality, in the days following their shootout on the freighter, the Unseen had not collapsed in on Steve like that. He had not been caught unawares like that, had not been suffocated by an incorporeal plane.

Danny hadn’t been there.

He’d just spent so long wandering that Kono had to all but force him back to the Seen. He’d stayed in for nearly half an hour. Chin and Kono were worried he wasn’t going to come out. But he did, with the conclusion that Victor Hesse did not die and Steve had failed.

Steve’s phone buzzes and lights up and he jumps.

[from: Kono Kalakaua, 3:27 AM]

You alright boss?

Steve scrubs a hand over his face. Fuck. He was hoping he hadn’t woken Kono with that little incident.

Over the past few weeks of working together, as a part of a team, and as an anchor and speaker, Steve’s gotten a lot closer to Kono. He’s gotten a lot closer with Chin, too, of course, and Danny is something else entirely, but with Kono it’s something different than just growing closer. With training and cases, she spends half the time they’re around each other in Steve’s head. She knows him inside out, even though they’ve only known each other a few weeks. They’ve also got a very primitive empathetic bond. It’s nothing serious, but with the amount of time they spend stuck together, when they feel something strongly enough, the emotions tend to bleed. It’s useful for work, they can feel when the other is in danger, and it’s useful in keeping conflict to a minimum because they can’t hide severe irritation from each other, but it’s not always so great.

Like now, when his dream anxiety bleeds over into Kono’s mind and wakes her up in the middle of the night.

Sometimes he wishes he had something like this for Danny. He never knows what his partner is thinking, doesn’t quite know how to handle him yet, even with the easy team dynamic they’ve all settled into. He shoves that to the back of his mind though. He just woke Kono up at 3:30 in the morning, he owes her at least a little bit of an explanation.

[to: Kono Kalakaua, 3:31 AM]

Just a dream. Sorry to wake you.

[from: Kono Kalakaua, 3:32 AM]

Need to talk about it?

[to: Kono Kalakaua, 3:32 AM]

No.

[from: Kono Kalakaua, 3:33 AM]

Your call. You at least going to tell me what that warm feeling I just got was?

Steve swears under his breath, even though there’s no one around to hear him. Are his thoughts about Danny really strong enough for Kono to get a feeling from it? They’re going to have to work on learning some control over this whole empathy thing.

[to: Kono Kalakaua, 3:35 AM]

No idea what you’re talking about.

[from: Kono Kalakaua, 3:36 AM]

If you’ve got to tell yourself that, okay. But remember how much time I spend hooked into your mind, McGarrett. I know you better than you know you.

Anyway, it’s late. If you’re not dying, and don’t want to talk, I’m going to sleep. See you in the morning.

That first text is vaguely concerning, but Steve’s too tired to really think about it too much. He’ll deal with it later. As it is, he barely shoots a “good night” back and gets his phone to his nightstand before he’s slipping into sleep again.

His sleep for the rest of the night is not peaceful, but it is sleep, and he’s glad he at least got a little bit more rest before he has to get ready and go to work. With Halloween just around the corner, supernatural activity is picking up all over the island. Since Five-0 takes point on most major crimes and criminal supernatural activity, the next few days are going to be long ones for the team. Even Chin is on edge, his eyes flashing out of his control while he works, with the upcoming holiday.

Steve can already feel a headache building behind his eyes, there are so many spirits trying to get his attention. They’ll have to deal with that soon. He sighs heavily, and decides he’ll treat himself to coffee from some overpriced shop on the way to work as a consolation for the toll he knows it’s going to take on him to spend so much time in the Unseen.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Steve McGarrett?” Danny says, the second Steve steps into the office and Steve has to pause. He almost looks to his reflection in the glass walls of the offices, concerned that maybe he’s showing symptoms of a curse. They had faced down with an angry witch last week, it was possible.

But then Danny’s straight face breaks and he looks at Steve’s coffee cup and starts laughing.

“See I ask because Steve McGarrett, Mr. Military, SuperSEAL himself, who usually drinks his coffee with butter in it, is standing in front of me with pumpkin spice latte. So you must be a changeling, or an alien clone, or something,” Danny says, and Steve wrinkles his nose.

He makes an offended noise in the back of his throat as Kono and Chin snicker at Danny’s comment and opens his mouth to retaliate before Danny jumps in again.

“Actually, I don’t know why I’m surprised. You like pineapple on pizza. You obviously have no taste.”

“You’re the one without taste. Pineapple’s good on anything, and with all your complaining about how I take my coffee, you should be glad that I’m broadening my coffee horizons, you--” Steve chokes on his next word, and has to hastily set all of his things down to brace himself against a wall.

“Steve?” Danny says, his teasing tone replaced with concern in a split second. He moves like he’s going to try to steady Steve, a half aborted motion.

Across the room, Kono puts a hand to her throat and scrunches up her face, then crosses to Steve and grabs his arm.

Steve takes a deep breath, and plunges into the Unseen.

“Steve,” he hears Kono’s voice, and he exhales, and finds his footing. The Unseen orients itself for him, this time taking the familiar form of a battleship, because, Steve suspects, there are a lot of spirits trying to get his attention, and this is an easy way to organize them for him, while still giving him a familiar environment.

“I’m here,” Steve tells her, and Kono sighs in what sounds like relief. He’ll have to ask what that’s about later. For now, there are a dozen spirits who want his attention and he has to sort out which of them need attention now and which ones he can help without a time constraint.

He wanders down a hall at random, following the tugging behind his collarbones, and letting it lead him to a door a few meters down. The door opens when he approaches it and reaches out a hand, but without him ever touching it. He steps inside and almost stumbles right back out.

The room is empty, stripped down to its bunks and nothing else, which Steve was expecting. The spirit in the room is Danny, which he was not expecting. He has a moment of blind panic where he feels like the walls are closing in around him, and for a second, the walls around him actually do begin to close in on him, and Danny looks at him in something like disdain. Steve’s hands shake and he throws them out on either side of him with a yell, and the walls stop closing in.

One of Danny’s eyebrows creeps towards his hairline and he watches Steve carefully, before his mouth drops open in a horrifying scream and he disappears.

Steve stumbles back into the now-closed door, and slips right through it, falling flat on his back at the feet of a spirit, one who is not his partner, one with a vicious looking wound on her neck, and a terrified expression etched onto her face. He hates to think how she died, but he knows he has to ask.

“A witch,” she tells him when he asks, in a voice that is too small and too loud all at once, and grates on every last one of Steve’s nerves. He’s still unsettled from the not-Danny he’s just gotten away from. “She said she needed me, for a ritual, that my sacrifice would help the old gods live and they’d be grateful for it.” She gives Steve a description of the witch that killed her, and then she starts to cry and Steve hugs her and promises that he’ll find the witch who did this to her, and then there’s a knock on the door, which startles the both of them so much that Steve nearly throws a punch at the empty air on instinct.

But instead of the trouble that Steve was expecting, the door swings open very slowly, and reveals an elderly woman standing on the other side of it. Steve looks back to the girl and watches as the wound on her neck closes itself, knitting back together in the same way Chin’s supernatural healing fixes injuries he gets.

“Grandma?” the girl asks, and the woman nods and smiles sadly.

“We were not expecting you so soon, but I can’t say I’m not happy to see you,” the girl’s grandmother says, and Steve feels like he’s intruding. He’s never been around when a spirit has reunited with their ancestors in the Unseen before. It’s always just been him and the spirit who had sought him out. Today is just full of surprises, it seems. The grandmother turns to Steve and gives him a soft smile as well. “Find who did this to her, and you make them pay, understood?”

Steve nods once. “I’ll make sure that the woman who did this faces justice, Auntie.”

“I’ll find you if you don’t, spirit-speaker,” she warns and then she turns around, her hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder, and they both evaporate as though they had never been there.

Steve places a hand against the wall nearest him and watches the construct waver as he does his best to get the Unseen to convey a message to the other spirits waiting for him. He’ll help them as soon as he can, but if there’s a witch trying to raise the old gods, he has to go handle that immediately.

“Kono,” he calls out, his voice only sounding in his own head.

Kono does not answer.

Steve calls again.

No answer.

Steve bellows.

“Steve?” he finally hears Kono’s voice, and she half-manifests next to him, holding his hand and watching him with concern.

“Take me back, we have a case,” he says, and she helps him back into his body so fast he thinks he might have whiplash from it.

He’s still stumbling back into the physical world when Kono lets him go, and he’d be surprised at her lack of caution-- she usually waits to be certain Steve’s back to himself before letting go-- if not for the scene he’s coming back to.

Danny’s on the floor, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids, twitching so much he might as well be seizing,

“What the hell happened?” Steve asks and he crouches next to Danny’s feet.

Chin’s already cushioning Danny’s head, his eyes closed in concentration, probably listening to Danny’s breathing and heartbeat. Kono’s got a hand on his forehead, and then she’s feeling for Danny’s pulse as well, and her brow is pinched in worry.

“I don’t know,” Chin says. “Before you went on your visit, you got a little unsteady, Danny was helping Kono keep you steady and then he just collapsed. I was able to move fast enough to keep him from hitting his head, but he’s just been like this since you went in. He started shaking when Kono pulled you back,” he mutters, and the way his voice comes out, Steve knows Chin’s fangs have popped out from the stress.

Even Chin’s normally impeccable control is suffering this close to Halloween. They’re in for a long week.

“Looks like he’s coming out of it. Danny?” Kono says, gently patting Danny’s face to try to get his attention as Danny’s eyes glance around, unfocused and glassy. “Danny, come on, do you know where you are? Hey, Danny,” Kono repeats, a little sharper this time, and Danny’s eyes snap towards her.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m in the office. The hell am I doing on the floor?” Danny grumbles, trying to sit up.

Chin grabs his shoulder to steady him when Danny grimaces.

“Take it easy brah,” Chin warns.

“What the hell happened to me?” Danny asks.

Kono shrugs, and lets out a relieved sounding sigh. “You collapsed when Steve left to visit the Unseen. We don’t know, you just--hey, take it easy!” she cuts herself off when Danny pushes himself to his feet.

He stands still for a moment, as though he’s testing out his own legs and then holds out his hands in a “see?” sort of gesture.

“I feel fine,” he says, sounding a little skeptical of his own assessment of himself. “Of course it was something to do with the ghosts. It’s always gotta be something to do with the fucking ghosts with you three. Always the ghosts,” he complains, and then he’s walking towards his office as though nothing had just happened.

Kono and Chin get to their feet, and they share a confused look with Steve, and then Danny calls back at them.

“I’ll take it easy today, and if I start feeling bad, I’ll see a doctor, but do not call an ambulance! I do not need that bill, thank you!” Danny shouts over his shoulder and then his office door closes behind him.

Steve shrugs, because that’s what he’d do too, in all honesty, and he heads for his office too.

They’ve got a witch to find.

#mcdanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #kono kalakaua #chin ho kelly #hawaii five 0 #h50 #fic #mine #TU AU

5 notes · View notes