#the jedi characters can be state-sanctioned wizards or something

[circle-around-again]

"She glanced back to where she'd left Maul, but he had already vanished. She waited. Barely ten seconds later, Kilindi heard a horrific scream from atop the cliff." (Windham, 95).

Kilindi and her bestie the eldritch horror

[casualarsonist]

Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi review

*SPOILERS*, but who cares at this point?

I’ve placed a lot of expectation on myself for this review. It’s been through three incarnations already, and I still can’t get it right. It’s muddled, it says too little about too many things, it’s all over the place emotionally, and it needs a good edit. 

...Hey then, I suppose in that case it’s perfect, because it’s exactly like Star Wars: The Last Jedi *badoom tish*.

For those that don’t know, I’m a massive Star Wars fan with all the usual caveats applying - not the prequels, not the garbage games, not the Christmas Special. And yet The ‘Last Jedi’ was the first Star Wars film ever released that I straight-up refused to watch. It started with me simply failing to care, and then it became an antagonistic joke to some people who asked me to review it, until finally it turned into a matter of earnest protest - I was not going to pay to see this film, because that way Disney wins. It was only after I realised it was released on a streaming service that my girlfriend had a subscription for that I decided to bite the bullet. I’ve asked myself many times before and since how the hell things could possibly have gotten to this point - to the point that I, the second biggest fan I know, for whom the series was and is a deep and integral part of my life, would simply stop giving a shit?

In the case of The Last Jedi, it began with the mundanity of Disney’s output. Who would have guessed that, after all the prophecies of hope and dread following the corporation’s acquisition of the Star Wars licence, the actual end-result would be that they would simply bore us to death with aggressively average releases? That fact, coupled with the unfathomable laziness of The Force Awakens’ rehashing of A New Hope’s story, and the cavalcade of negative press, reviews, and anecdotes I read and heard in the wake of The Last Jedi’s release hammered the last nail in the coffin with such force, it might as well have been fired directly from the Death Star. For what it’s worth now, it’s immediately clear that even though the prequel trilogy are, by most metrics, terrible films, at least they still very much fit into the Star Wars universe. There’s something about George Lucas’ touch, something that I can’t explain, in that while it stands for nothing in terms of guaranteeing quality, it can at least be counted on to sprinkle originality and imagination over an otherwise well-worn, classic story. George Lucas’ Episode VII sure as hell wouldn’t have been a blatant reboot of A New Hope. And whatever your thoughts on the man, the fact is that without him, we’re stuck in a real worst-case scenario: a bunch of isolated  ‘enthusiasts’ writing disconnected fan-fiction screenplays for the corporate zombies on Disney’s board to mutilate in accordance with their latest focus-group data. Mediocre scripts rendered ever-more tedious by a studio intent on watering down anything and everything that might turn someone away, and in doing so, they end up turning away everyone that was looking for something new. For the series that I so adore, this is a fate worse than death. So it is that we end up with Rian Johnson’s crack at the franchise, and so it is that I found myself completely and utterly ambivalent. 

I wish I had enough passion in me to savage this film - to create a real spectacle piece, a cathartic script to read for anyone else feeling angry and disappointed. I wish that, after all the waiting and the bemused anticipation, The Last Jedi had made me mad enough to rip it to pieces...but, honestly, I don’t know if it did. I think the overwhelming sensation that filled me when it was all said and done was that it met my expectations exactly. And don’t get me wrong - by most metrics, The Last Jedi is an utter clusterfuck. By most metrics, it’s a terrible Star Wars film. But it’s not like Johnson scorched the earth of the franchise - Disney had more to do with that than he. Johnson’s script simply built itself a weird, amateurish hovel atop a pre-existing ruin. And while I’m not saying that no-one could ever possibly release a good Star Wars film again (even though I don’t think they will), for me - and judging by the extremely lackluster numbers of ‘Solo’, a great deal of others - Disney simply cannot recapture the strange, flawed, wizard-magic of George Lucas and Lucasfilm, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to care about another Star Wars film again. 

Yes, it’s that famous nerd-fan hyperbole at play here - I won’t deny that I care more than I should - but I want to reiterate that I’m not so much in histrionics over this particular instalment, but about what the film and its collective flaws represent. The feeling George Lucas got during the test screening of The Phantom Menace - that dreadful understanding that your multi-million-dollar creation is a dog’s breakfast - is a feeling that should have echoed throughout the entirety of Disney HQ when The Last Jedi was first screened. Disney’s fractured, unfocused, haphazard production process is directly mirrored in The Last Jedi’s fractured, unfocused, haphazard final product. Its plot is a mess and filled with holes and unfinished ideas. It’s tone-deaf. Every single attempt at humour is groan-inducing. It’s so fixated on concluding the stories of old, core characters, and yet unceremoniously shovels beloved side-characters into a mass grave; and every single time it tries to introduce someone or something new, they either don’t fit properly into the universe, or the film drops it like a pot of Kevin Malone’s chili into the middle of a confusing series of events, glossing over character’s histories to such an extent that it’s impossible to care about them. Admiral Ackbar is in this film, apparently. I didn’t know that until one of the characters mentions that he’d been killed. Maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention, or maybe they said his name while I was yelling at the TV in incredulous rage, but one of the most revered characters in the series is eliminated with such little fanfare, I didn’t even know he was onscreen when it happened. He’s then supplanted by a commander that was apparently trained by Leia, but has never been mentioned in 40 years of canon. She’s killed an hour later. That’s cool. That was a good decision.  

It’s going to be really hard to detail all the missteps in The Last Jedi’s lumbering progression towards its underwhelming end, but I’ll try to relate some of the most impactful. Through an absurd web of barely-connected story threads, we follow Luke Skywalker as he drinks raw milk from an alien’s tit. We see General Hux turned into some slapstick comedy ragdoll existing only to scream incomprehensibly and be dragged around the set by the dark jedi. We see Luke toss his old lightsaber away as if the last time he had it, it didn’t disappear down a bottomless pit. We’re still not given an explanation as to where and how it was found, and we probably never will. We see every side character from the previous film either written-out or killed. We see Leia somehow master the Force to overcome certain death, and it’s never explained how. We see an X-Wing ‘drift’ in the vacuum of space. We see Captain Phasma return as if she’s some kind of nemesis to Finn, only to have her ass kicked by the ex-stormtrooper grunt in a 30-second fight before falling to her presumed death. Leia chastises Poe for being reckless, then immediately sanctions his recklessness. Finn decides that the only way to stop a First Order weapon is to fly into it and kill himself. This does not happen, and there are no consequences. Yoda’s force ghost somehow burns down the site of old Jedi texts, and then the texts turn up unscathed in a throwaway shot later on. A joke prop from A New Hope is given a role of sentimental importance, even though most people won’t even know it ever existed, and won’t therefore have any emotional connection with it - I didn’t, and I’ve watched the film about 30 times. And perhaps most importantly, we see the ‘Resistance’ on the run from an evil entity that somehow crawled out of the ashes of a decimated Empire with enough manpower and capital to finance and build a weapon the size of a literal planet, lost that planet along with all the men and materiel remaining on it, and STILL remains far more powerful than the fighting force and governing power that defeated its every incarnation throughout history. Apparently, eradicating the Empire’s dictatorial command structure and freeing the most influential planets in the galaxy does absolutely nothing to weaken it, and yet the entirety of the armed forces of the new Galactic Republic exists aboard a dozen underpowered ships. 

Nothing makes sense. Nothing is sacred. The weakness of J.J. Abrams conceit for Episode VII is revealed here as Johnson intentionally erases every mystery he established and tosses away all the minor characters that glimmered with the faint hope of being something more interesting this time around. He’s stated in interviews that he was trying to ‘subvert audience expectations’, and if your expectation was that the second film in the trilogy would build on the first, he certainly succeeded in that goal. But what story is The Last Jedi trying to tell? Like The Force Awakens, it’s so trapped by the prestige of its past and the burden of creating a future that, in accordance with Disney, must please every single human being alive, that it achieves nothing. When Mark Hamill tells you to your face that he completely disagrees with every single decision you’ve made about a character he’s known and lived for forty years, your decisions probably need a rethink. But Johnson didn’t rethink his decisions, and Mark Hamill is such a boss that he gave it his all regardless. No, The Last Jedi doesn’t scorch the earth. It simply salts the already desolate landscape so that nothing more may grow again, at least from this story-cycle.

So with all this frustration, you might assume that I despised the film...but I didn’t. It has the worst script of any Star Wars film, no doubt - worse in its inept storytelling and its awful, atonal jokes than almost anything Lucas ever wrote – and yet I'd still watch it again sooner than Episode 2. I’d watch it sooner than The Force Awakens. It's stupid, and overlong, and a directionless, muddled mess, but it still has some good moments. I liked seeing Luke, despite the potential of his character being wasted. I liked the idea of a union between Kylo and Rey, even if that too was squandered. I still like Kylo Ren, even if that’s not a popular opinion. As much as Admiral Holdo's character was ineptly shoehorned into the plot, I liked her final scene. Leia carries herself with strength and dignity, and actually gives orders and counsel, as she should. These moments are a drop in a bucket when it comes to tallying the bad vs the good, but they're there, and they’re okay. 

But this film cannot be fixed. Rian Johnson has said that J.J. Abrams shared no long-term plans for the trilogy. No shit. For every three films planned, George Lucas had a three-film arc; that’s what tied together even the worst of the Lucasfilm releases. Disney has no such plan. They’re trying to cobble together a trilogy of films without retaining any creative staff, and giving the new people they bring in through a revolving door free-reign to do whatever they want right up until it clashes with the company’s monetisation plan. There’s no consistency. There’s no permanence. There’s no balance or flow between instalments because there’s no unified oversight, and the end result is that every incoming writer has to spend a large portion of their time guessing the answers to questions that the previous writer posed. And Rian Johnson, for his part, has no idea what he’s doing or where he’s going. His contribution to the Star Wars legacy is to undo everything Abrams left for him, retroactively destroying any worth The Force Awakens might have had, and establish nothing for himself. Every film in this new cycle has been a patchwork mess led by an ever-changing roster of freelance writers and directors looking for a million-dollar paycheck. It’s an utter disaster, and Disney can call it ‘canon’ all it likes, but this is not a real Star Wars film. 

3/10