Pages

February 12, 2020

An Appreciation of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens

WARNING: SPOILERS FOLLOW

In 2005, I had accepted that it was all over. We had six Star Wars films altogether, amounting to a complete account of Anakin Skywalker's descent into the Dark Side, and his redemption. Plus some cartoons. For years, this seemed like plenty.

Seven years later, the unthinkable happened--George Lucas sold it all to Disney. Within a short time, announcements rolled through that a new trilogy of numbered episodes was coming, with anthology movies in the off-years. The goal was to have new movies rolled out with the regularity of the James Bond franchise. They weren't talking about pumping them out cheaply either--they'd be movies with real talent behind them, and real practical effects rather than bad-looking CGI.

JJ Abrams had done no wrong by me at the time. I loved the high-paced adventure he crafted out of Star Trek, so pegging him as the director of Episode VII seemed like a perfect fit. The script was hammered out from some familiar names (including Lawrence Kasdan). Actors were mostly fresh new names I had never heard of before (although I've since seen and come to appreciate the performances that Adam Driver, Oscar Isaac, John Boyega, Domhnall Gleeson, and Lupita Nyong'o put forth in many other modern films--they are all pretty awesome performers). What was more exciting is that Harrison Ford, Carrie Fischer, Mark Hamill, and Anthony Daniels were all reprising their roles. They'd even bring back John Williams to score the music.

Despite George Lucas not being involved anymore, it looked as though LucasFilm would devote itself to delivering a quality trilogy that fans would eat up. Every new piece of information, every new image, and every new trailer promised a new must-see experience that elicited the same adventurous spirit, whimsy, and exhilaration that A New Hope delivered decades ago. The bad taste of the prequel trilogy, with all their bad comedy, wooden performances, and flat storytelling would be washed away.
That's no moon, that's a...moon...
In the summer of 2015, I saw the film on a rather large 3D screen with a friend from work. I came out of it feeling satisfied--the film's quality was pleasing to behold, but was still very brisk, punchy, and full of heart. Action scenes were spectacular, of course. I found myself liking the new cast members, including Daisy Ridley as the new heroine of the series. The first thing my friend asked was "who is she the child of?" This only prompted the anticipation of more movies to answer the questions left hanging, this one being the most prominent since we're all expecting a twist to rival the one in The Empire Strikes Back. After all, it was a marvelous narrative trick that made the original series deep and rewatchable, and it seemed as though the new movies were setting themselves up for a new round of compelling narrative mysteries.

I Have A Mixed Feeling About This

The Force Awakens came out at a time when I was starting to regard films with a slightly more critical eye, and I was learning to knock certain things off their respective pedestals. I used to be quite the blind Star Wars fan, unwilling to accept the flaws in previous films and holding each one up as a perfect slice of adventurism. I even rated the prequels that highly. Around 2015, I decided for the first time that maybe Star Wars isn't what it's cracked up to be.

A younger version of myself would have easily slapped The Force Awakens on its own pedestal. As a thirty-two-year-old, I found myself lifting other films, like The Revenant, Ex Machina, and Mad Max: Fury Road, on pedestals above Star Wars. Those films offered a little something deeper--perhaps a touch of artistic cinematography, deeper writing, more compelling characters, and maybe even better action scenes. I wound up ranking The Force Awakens third best or so that year, but it probably deserves to be dropped a little lower.

The strange thing is, the movie feels like it should be the best thing ever when you're in the middle of watching it. When it's over and you take a step back, it's easier to shrug off and see it as something a little less special. It could be a sign that maybe this film is not made with genuine artistic merit in mind, but as a heartless cash grab. It struck while the iron was hot and ignited many fans' love, but the fire has since gone out, leaving behind many burned viewers pointing out how shallow the film actually is.

After all these years, I realize they might not be all wrong.

Same Movie. No, New Movie.

Let's face it--The Force Awakens carbon-copies the plot of A New Hope, often times incorporating the same beats. And it does so without any regard to the original stories and films--such as The Hidden Fortress--that inspired Lucas in the first place. Laying it out in a very broad perspective, the two episodes have the following in common:
  • Opening crawl reveals that bad guys have a world-destroying superweapon (oh really, this sh*t again?).
  • Start with an action scene where stormtroopers raid something.
  • Villain enters action scene, all in black, with a helmet. Says nothing at first. When he does speak, villain's voice is eerily distorted. Goes on to interrogate rebels.
  • Vital information is hidden inside a droid, which goes off on some desert planet to find help.
  • Did we mention--movie starts on a sandy desert planet (AGAIN?!).
  • We come across the hero/heroine stuck on desert planet, living day-to-day doing crummy work while they secretly yearn to leave the planet and have a great adventure. He/she is also Force sensitive.
  • Hero meets droid and adventure ensues.
  • Heroes board the Millennium Falcon (yeah, I should have seen that coming) and make a harrowing escape.
  • Han Solo has trouble with local gangsters.
  • A scene exists in a cantina or bar populated by various aliens.
  • Heroes are betrayed by shady aliens secretly reporting their position to the bad guys.
  • Superweapon destroys a planet (or two), throwing the galaxy in peril.
  • Heroes have to enter the superweapon space station at some point to rescue a character in peril.
  • The Rebels/Resistance have a briefing detailing their plan to destroy the superweapon.
  • The Rebels/Resistance destroy the superweapon by flying into it and blowing something up.
As if the parallels aren't enough, The Force Awakens creates additional throwbacks by having Rey put on a Rebel helmet while sitting at the foot of a fallen AT-AT, Finn pulls up a remote at random (same one Luke would have trained with in A New Hope, I assume anyway), the holographic chess game blinks on at one point, Rey does the Jedi mind trick on a stormtrooper all Obi-Wan style, and Han jokes about tossing Phasma in the trash compactor. Are you feeling nostalgic yet? No? No worries, HAN AND CHEWIE ARE BACK! Woooooo!

To be fair, some of the nostalgia (especially in regards to bringing back original cast members and having an occasional wrecked ship in the background) doesn't bother me that much. But it does call attention to itself repeatedly, subtly nudging at the audience. It's a fast and easy way for the film to recall memories and emotion with mere props and passing dialogue. Even the revamped costumes, updated ship designs and weapons, all look remarkably close to the same kinds of things from the original trilogy. It's quite clear that the filmmakers wanted to distance themselves from the prequels, with all its indulgences and departures, and hook audiences by sticking with what worked before.

One Perfect Introduction
This AT-AT fought a sandworm on Arrakis and lost.
In a time when I struggled to understand what "show don't tell" really means, it took a film like this to demonstrate its execution with remarkable efficiency. Even though the film opens with a crawl that tells us background information and jumps into a scene where characters reveal the primary conflict, it's the next scene that really struck me with how well-executed it is. It's the scene where the new heroine of the series--Rey--is introduced.

For several minutes, there's hardly any dialogue. We simply watch Rey in a slice-of-life montage, in which she scavenges for paltry rations. The film shows us that Jakku is a desolate place full of wrecks and relics of the past. It's populated by aliens, robots, and alien/robot hybrids of some kind that like to yell at Rey when she fails to pull her weight. She scrapes by on a quarter-portion of food (including some kind of self-baking biscuit, which is awesome). She counts the days on a wall full of tally marks. She wears a Rebel helmet and looks up at flying ships, clearly waiting for something.

Within these few minutes, we already get a good idea of who Rey is. When she maneuvers through the inside of a wrecked spaceship, we see that she knows what she's doing, which shows physical skill, confidence, and perhaps some technical prowess. The harshness of the desert and the aliens around her rolls off her back, as she's clearly accustomed to it. But the moments in which she gazes at the sky shows the same kind of longing for adventure that Luke showed in A New Hope. All of this is shown to us with zero dialogue--literally, showing and not telling.

Between this scene and the parts that follow (in which Rey rescues BB-8, then runs across Finn), we're shown a character worth caring for. She is revealed to be personable (perhaps even good-humored), compassionate, and able to fend for herself. All of these are traits that make her likable, and I can't help but to feel for her from the start.

Rey Of Light

One problem that's been pointed out repeatedly by fans and critics is that Rey is so perfect, she's too perfect. When a character is too perfect, they are often labeled a Mary Sue (or Gary Stu). This is a term that was originally given to characters written in fan fiction (notably Star Trek) that became nothing more than the author's wish fulfillment.

Rey comes off as a Mary Sue character because of the following moments:
  • In the Millennium Falcon, Rey seems to know all the nooks and crannies of the ship and what all the components do. Her knowledge matches Han's to an uncanny degree.
  • When captive, she uses the Jedi mind trick on FN-1824, despite having never trained in the Force.
    • This being said, I think a fair argument can be made that Rey had just experienced Kylo using mind tricks just moments before, and she successfully reversed it. This would have given her the know-how to trick a weaker-minded Stormtrooper.
  • Despite having never trained or learned the Force or how to use a lightsaber, she succeeds in fighting and defeating Kylo Ren.
    • This is a tricky one--Kylo took a hit from Chewie's bowcaster and was bleeding badly, which weakens him enough that even Finn stood toe-to-toe with him for a brief spat. I'd also argue that Rey's fighting style is the sloppiest of all the movies, and it's supposed to be--this is her first duel, she's only going off of intuition and impulse. She nearly gets herself struck down, until one dramatic moment where she finds clarity and is able to push back. The fight is a struggle, and it shows.
    • One neat detail I always liked about this is that Rey's style matches Palpatine's from Revenge of the Sith--they both use a lot of jabbing motions.
    • Rey is one angry fighter. The way she grimaces and scowls during these scenes is intense. It's like she's a Palpatine or something. This doesn't show any of the constraint or zen-like skill that characters like Obi-Wan showed previously.
The prevailing argument for all of Rey's victories is that she never fails, and is therefore unbelievably good at everything.
Look at you, all perfect and stuff...
I beg to differ, because she does fail at certain moments. When she's poking around the Falcon, she nearly releases a poison gas that could have killed everyone. On the Eravana, Rey messes something up and lets all the rathtars loose on the ship. When she's given a blaster, she neglects to take the safety off. When she tries the Jedi mind trick, the Stormtrooper initially mocks her. And the way she flew the Falcon on Jakku? Worst flying ever!

But for each of these micro-failures, she always succeeds on the rebound, so the failure is very short-lived. I feel as though the effort is there to show her as a noob, but it's rarely felt because she is overpowered. I want to believe that the point of Rey's arc across the three movies is to show how she controls all this power, especially since she comes from the lineage of the most powerful Sith lord in the galaxy. However, the movies' trajectory is to show how Rey finds her own identity--it's the way she uses her power that affects her path, and throughout the next two movies she sways from the Dark Side to the Light Side until she finally accepts the identity of Skywalker. In this context, I have less of a problem accepting Rey as a character, even if she is overpowered and some kind of Mary Sue.

Besides, she's likable.

Snoke 'Em If You Got Them

So, we're just dropped in the middle of this new chapter where the First Order is wreaking havoc across the galaxy, there's a Resistance for some reason, and all the heroes we once knew are not quite front-and-center. It takes time for Han, Chewie, and Leia to make their appearances, but Luke becomes the MacGuffin that Rey has to find (and eventually convince to come out of exile). We eventually learn that Kylo is Han and Leia's son. Luke was working to rebuild the Jedi Order but Ben turned evil, burned the temple down, and slaughtered all of Luke's students. All of this happened because of a new Big Bad named Snoke (the hell kind of name is this anyway?) and a new group of Dark Side users called the Knights of Ren. In Rise of Skywalker, we find out that Snoke and the Knights were actually created by zombie Palpatine.

But the thing is...how, even?

Return of the Jedi left us with a galaxy free of the Empire's tyranny. With no Sith left, the Force was in balance. Luke was the last Jedi (until he wasn't). Everything was set right, so how did it all get so wrong in The Force Awakens? The most head-scratching thing about the Sequel Trilogy is that it doesn't really bother to bridge itself with previous episodes, and I'm left wondering more about who Snoke is, how exactly he influenced and corrupted Ben, and how the First Order can come into being (and allowed to grow unchecked by the New Republic).

I believe many of these answers were relegated to other media--mostly novels. I haven't read them (yet). I've read some fans saying that they're okay with the backstories existing in books and comics, so that the films can stand on their own without having the burden of explaining all these issues. I find it unsatisfying because the backstory and information we crave directly affects our understanding of the story as it transitioned from the old series to the new. When I scratch my head trying to comprehend the era of the First Order and the Resistance, I'd rather not have to buy more media to fill in the gaps that the movies didn't bother to cover (granted, I give The Matrix a pass for doing the same thing, but there's a heck of a difference between things like understanding The Second Renaissance, seeing where the Kid character came from, seeing how the Oracle changed between movies, seeing the fate of the Osiris, and things like a whole new galaxy suddenly happening with new villains, new governments, new conflicts and struggles, and even a new history that has to be revealed).

They could have addressed certain pieces of information in the film. Even though exposition is a form of "telling" and not showing, past movies have shown it can be done well in Star Wars, especially when it's married with character personalities and voices.

Wait a minute...they did! For some bloody reason, scenes that describe the New Republic in greater detail were cut from the movie. Those scenes can be seen on the Blu-Ray. They were short, but they were just enough to give us a better, more complete picture of galactic politics. I honestly don't even know why these scenes were cut. As it is, we only see one scene of the New Republic, and it's the scene where it's blown away by the Starkiller base. From that point on, the Resistance and its heroes exist in a vacuum.
So, who shot first? You shot first? I shot first?
I believe the greater issue, however, is that the Sequel Trilogy may have started off in the wrong spot. If the time frame of the story was adjusted further into the past, it could have been written to have certain things in the movies' scope. We could have seen Luke's temple in its pristine shape, and his students. We could have seen Snoke influencing Ben, and his eventual betrayal. We could have seen the Knights of Ren in action. We could have seen how the First Order is born. We could have seen how the New Republic works and why it ignores the growth of the First Order. Conflict between the Republic and Leia could have allowed us to see how the Resistance came into being. All of this is shoved into books and comics, but it didn't have to be. This could have been a movie in itself, and it could have been a fair bridge between the two trilogies.

Even more frustrating is this kind of story was told before. Hardly the same way, but the idea of a New Republic facing new threats and Luke building his own temple were explored in a plethora of Expanded Universe novels. Millions of words have given us smart, fun, imaginative stories that took the next generation of Skywalkers to epic directions. LucasFilm made a conscious decision to strike all of this as non-canon, and didn't even bother to draw inspiration from any of these sources. They certainly didn't bother referring to the treatments Lucas had drafted. All of this only makes it more transparent that the filmmakers wanted to make a product that would make money--to do so, they aligned the story in a way that allowed its reveals of the villains, heroes, and their conflict to match up with A New Hope beat-for-beat. That meant fast-forwarding events into the future, but at the expense of crafting an organic continuation.

Always On The Move...

JJ Abrams always had a fast and loose way of telling his stories. A Youtuber made the point that Abrams' movies are built with plot, not scenes. Meaning, Abrams' movies never really settle down to let the characters talk and express themselves in a way that reveals information or pieces of the story. I feel this is a valid complaint for Rise of Skywalker, which seems so rushed and choppy that it seems to gloss over characters and their relationships (and certainly their arcs). I don't feel the same way about The Force Awakens. Even though the movie has its fair share of chases, shoot-outs, duels, and battles, the movie does space itself agreeably, with ample time given to show us characterization.

I feel this happens the best with the aforementioned scenes that show Rey as a scavenger. We see scenes of Finn struggling with himself. Kylo has a scene where he speaks to Vader's helmet, and it's quite revealing. There are plenty of scenes that show Rey and Finn interacting with Han and Chewie. Leia shares some screentime with Han and Rey. Scenes like these fill in the story just fine, and I always came out of the film feeling like the characters have warmth.

There are some things in The Force Awakens I find less agreeable, and it's precisely the same issue with Abrams' other films--in his effort to keep the pace high, he keeps the exposition as breezy as possible. This includes having the Resistance spitball their plan in a very low-key way, rather than having a stiff briefing like you see in A New Hope or Return of the Jedi. The scene amounts to Han saying "How do we blow it up? There's always a way to do that." Then they figure out that they have to take down the Starkiller shields and attack a specific spot. That's it. For a group of militant fighters, this feels sloppy and inauthentic.

The exchange between Poe and Finn in the TIE fighter, in which Finn gets his name, also feels very rushed. They're in the middle of escaping--they chose now to introduce each other and pick a name? The only thing more frustrating is watching 2009's Star Trek to see how Kirk gets in the command chair.

The Sword In The Box
Legendary loot.
This movie makes a rather big fuss over the lightsaber. As in, THE lightsaber. As if it's a thing now that lightsabers carry the memories of their past owners and it can be passed around as a powerful artifact. By the movie's end, the Skywalker lightsaber seems to choose Rey as it flies into her hand. And indeed, Maz confirmes that the lightsaber "calls" to her.

This was something I had heard rumored for years before the movie even came about--that an episode VII script was floating around, and the movie was planned to start with a shot of Luke's severed hand floating in space, and his lightsaber. Given that the movie still runs with the lightsaber as a plot device, it seems as though this draft was used in part for the final product (maybe this is Michael Ardnt's contribution). I honestly wouldn't have minded the severed hand intro, but understandably, it's probably too morbid for this movie series.

I understand why the lightsaber is a big deal. It's a physical way to pass the torch to Rey--especially for the one lightsaber that had existed through two whole generations of Skywalkers. And the idea of a lightsaber being a legend brings to mind stories like Excalibur. It's fitting for a space fantasy, but I'm not a fan of using the Skywalker saber this way.

For one thing, lightsabers came a dime a dozen in the prequels. There is even a scene or two where Jedi have spares and can toss them to Anakin and Obi-Wan in the middle of battle (as happens in the Geonosis arena fight). Anakin loses one saber in the droid factory, and just kinda moans about it, seeming more inconvenienced that Obi-Wan will yell at him rather than actually losing an item of power. By that movie's end, Anakin dual-wields two sabers held by other people. I don't even know what saber he uses in Revenge of the Sith--I lost track by that point, and for all I know he could have still been using the spare that was tossed to him before. Then Luke goes and looses it on Bespin--all he does is built a new one. His own nonetheless--Luke's green saber is more than a weapon at that point, it's a symbol that he had found his own path and identity as a Jedi, and can stand up to Vader. In light of all this, what value does a lightsaber really have? Obi-Wan previously says that it is a Jedi's life (which makes no sense if the Jedi are "encouraged to love" and abstain from war, but whatever George). I contend that a lightsaber is a tool at the least, an important rite of passage at best.

To put this much significance in the lightsaber suggests that the Force can manifest in objects. As initially defined, it is a magic system that's derived from living beings throughout the cosmos (and Lucas' intention was always to reveal that the midichlorians facilitate the Force on behalf of microscopic creatures called the Whills, which essentially rule the universe through people--this is what we would have probably seen if he made the Sequel Trilogy). The key theme is life. To have the dead objects (weapons nonetheless) possess power goes against the established intention and lore, and this is another reason why the finale of Rise of Skywalker disappoints--it boils down to Rey harnessing the Force from lightsabers to melt Palpatine's face off. Because...absolute power, I guess?

What bugs me the most about the Skywalker lightsaber's inclusion in The Force Awakens is in understanding how it even arrived at Maz's place. Last time we saw it, it was plummeting through the clouds of Bespin. Any gas giant will have layers of dense liquid, and a solid core, that would crush any physical object that falls through it. Not that it matters for a fantasy film, but the thing that's not addressed is how exactly did it survive intact? Somebody had to have retrieved it (somehow, on a gas giant, against all physical odds and possibilities) and the saber must have passed hands and found its way to Takodana. The film does bring up the question of how in the dialogue, but in the midst of peril, all Maz says is "a good question...for another time!" The only thing this line tells me is that the screenwriters themselves don't know and don't want to get into it. What ticks me off the most, however, is that this question remains open throughout the whole trilogy. It is never answered.

Once again, I've seen one or two fans say they'd rather have this detail relegated to a comic or something. I still think a few lines could have been enough to bridge the lightsaber across the movies--as it is, I feel like the writers are just telling me to shut up and accept that the saber is there and Finn is going to use it now. Just deal with it.

Okay, fine. I just wonder if Luke's severed hand is preserved in another box in Maz's basement.

A Legend Dies
Why, Ben, why?
I think everybody was bummed when Kylo killed Han Solo. People might still be ticked off about it. And I wouldn't blame them because the Sequel Trilogy fails to do the one thing we all wanted: to reunite Han, Luke, and Leia on-screen gain. With Han slain, this becomes impossible. It's perhaps even more frustrating because Luke and Leia both perish alone in the next two sequels (although, thankfully, Luke does exchange some last words with Leia in The Last Jedi).

What we do get is a brief scene between Han and Leia. Their awkward dialogue does a good job of showing us the tension and estrangement the two feel, but their chemistry bubbles up again when they address the core issue: that their son may be worth saving. Han believes it enough to approach Kylo on the Starkiller base and try to win him over.

Much like the dialogue that opens the film, the dialogue between Kylo and Han is a little vague and cryptic. With retrospect and insight, it makes sense though. Kylo says he knows what he has to do, but doesn't know if he has the strength to do it. The thing that makes this interesting is that we don't know what he's talking about until he takes action. At first glance, we might think he's talking about staying good--it's a thing he knows he must do, given that his family would want it. But it turns out he's actually talking about committing to the Dark Side--to rid himself of the last shred of goodness and kill his past. This makes the scene play out in a very suspenseful manner. On a rewatch, once we know what happens, the scene carries dramatic irony, and it remains compelling because we know something the characters don't, and can't help but to watch the tragedy unfold.

I admire this dialogue even more now that Rise of Skywalker repeats the exact same dialogue but flips the circumstances around--in that case, the thing Kylo knows he has to do is actually flip back to the Light Side and chuck his lightsaber. And he does. It's nice how that plays out, although I'm not entirely sold on his redemption. But that's a good question for another time!

Chewie...We're Home

Here are a few more small things that bug me about The Force Awakens:
  • Maz Kanata is a character I thought I liked at first glance, but on rewatches she actually started to rub me the wrong way. I think because my first impression was that she's a little kooky, but the execution is actually rather stiff. It could be because most of the dialogue that follows is exposition, and we're not really given much more zing aside from the obnoxious way she singles out Han and then crawls on the table towards Finn. Can't fault Lupita Nyong'o or the visual effects people--the character is just a tad annoying, and it's probably the way she was written.
  • Captain Phasma--even though she has this awesome chrome armor and Gwendoline Christie's performance is decent, there is practically nothing to her character. Considering that she dies in the next movie, I am rather let down that the little screentime she has reveals hardly anything about who she really is. Granted, there are other minor villains that are never explored that deeply (Darth Maul, for example), but Phasma feels like a bigger letdown since the trailers and promos put her front-and-center somewhat.
  • One of the most distinguished actors on the cast is Max Von Sydow, and fans speculated for months on what his role would be. He's probably the most prolific actor to the series since Christopher Lee, or Sir Alec Guiness. Sydow's scenes are sadly limited to just the opening sequence, in which he's promptly killed. His sole role is to give exposition (which I don't mind so much since his words are kind of cryptic and make rewatches more rewarding), but I would have preferred seeing him more involved with the story (especially since this character has a history with the Solo family, but it's never even touched upon again). It feels like a huge waste of talent. 
  • We don't see any of the Knights of Ren until Rise of Skywalker. I feel like the Ren title was made up as an alternative to using Darth again (but this makes little sense when the First Order is revealed to be under Sith control anyway--dude should have just been called Darth Kylo). Ren is a name (or title?) that's never explained or explored. Even in Rise of Skywalker, it amounts to nothing more than a bunch of thugs. Considering that The Mandalorian went to lengths to show us Mandalorian culture, values, and philosophy, I think a little more thought and detail could have been put into the Knights of Ren to give them more depth and significance (actually, I'd also welcome more shown on the Sith too--all that stuff of Exegol is a bit head-scratching).
  • Some scenes and shots exist that were never actually used. One shot I wish was left in the final film is one used in the trailer that shows Kylo stepping into the forest, pausing, then igniting his lightsaber.
Here are more things I appreciate:
  • Finn, as a character, is one of the most interesting additions to the Star Wars lore. This is the first time we see a stormtrooper defect, much less one who shows a conscience, shows emotion, and removes his helmet. I like how he spends most of the film trying to escape the First Order--this may actually be the first protagonist in the series who's sole goal is to flee, whereas every other character faces danger. The films' events, and Finn's connection to Rey and Poe, ultimately forces him to fight as a rebel, and he's set up to become a promising new hero by the film's end. He even gets to fight with the lightsaber a couple of times, how cool is that?
  • Despite all the criticisms that Rey is a Mary Sue, I do like how her goal is set up to return to Jakku and keep waiting for her parents. Even though she shows excitement over the pieces of history and lore she runs across (including meeting the legendary Han Solo), she shows no interest in leaving her situation for a grand adventure--she only does so when Maz makes her face the truth, that her parents aren't coming back for her. This forces her to side with the Resistance, and eventually she's set on a path to find her own identity. This kind of arc is interesting enough for me to overlook the fact that she's overpowered (although I would have liked it more if the film addressed her power and made it a struggle for her to attain self control).
  • Character relationships are pretty interesting. It is genuinely heartwarming to see Finn, Poe, and Rey connect as they do, but it's even more interesting to see Leia and Han treat Rey as a kind of surrogate daughter. It's led fans to speculate if Rey could have been Kylo's long-lost brother (although that was ultimately debunked).
  • I admire the scene where Kylo and Poe meet for the first time--Poe's icebreaker is funny, but more importantly it reveals his character in a natural way.
  • That moment when a random stormtrooper yells "traitor!" and challenges Finn to a one-on-one fight. For a time, this became a meme, and the one stormtrooper was given an identity (as TR8R). It is a pretty cool moment in a fight scene would have otherwise been less remarkable. Moreover, fans like it when an underling rises up above the rest and gives the heroes a bigger challenge.
  • The comedy in general always manages to elicit a chuckle or two from me. There are quite a few jokes and lines I love (most especially Han scolding Finn, "That's not how the Force works!"). Few jokes don't hold up, but the majority of it gives the film a lighthearted appeal and personality to the characters. I feel that it works.
  • The production value is phenomenal. Designs for the costumes, props, ships, weapons, creatures, and worlds are all top-notch and they look phenomenal on-screen. Filmmakers made a conscious choice to use as many practical effects as they could, and it reflects well in the final product.
  • Every Star Wars film endeavors to feature a planet with a specific environment (this does give rise to a cliche that's probably looked down on today--that planets have only one climate--but part of the joy of a Star Wars is seeing what exotic location the backdrop will be. With The Force Awakens, we're given an alpine environment and a lush forest, which lends the film some of the nicest scenery of the series. Can't say I'm that thrilled that the film retreads desert territory, but I appreciate the new locales quite a bit.
  • There are times when a Star Wars movie will flex some cinematic muscle and use its cinematography to show aspects of its story rather than relying on dialogue. In The Force Awakens, these shots really blew me away:
    • The opening shot, which shows a First Order battleship cutting across the frame as if stabbing the planet behind it.
    • The first shot of Rey, in which we only see her in a mask, but she's looking directly at the camera (as mentioned earlier, this is also a match-cut with Finn and his helmet).
    • There's a spectacular shot during the Jakku chase where the camera follows the Falcon as it does a 360-degree loop in the sky. That might be one of the most inventive camera moves I've seen throughout the 2010s.
    • When Han Solo dies, the scene darkens as the Starkiller base drains a nearby star. The lighting ultimately matches the on-screen action, in addition to contrasting the blue and red lights. The scene overall looked very theatrical and unique.
    • The film's last scene, where Rey wordlessly holds the lightsaber towards Luke. The last couple of minutes leading up to this moment were gorgeous, especially with the background of Skellig Michael. The expressions both Rey and Luke give tell us everything we need to know. It is shame we have to see the next moment in the next movie (and the next movie wound up ticking off lots of fans by having Luke toss the lightsaber over his shoulder). But I wouldn't know of any better way to end this chapter.
  • Sound design is decent.
  • John Williams' score is generally solid--the themes for Rey and Kylo are memorable standouts. Rey's Theme in particular stands out from all the usual marches and fanfares since it has a more flowing, light-hearted, whimsical sound. Very fitting for a fantasy story, and I think it sounds nice.
The ultimate Red vs Blue episode.
The Force Awakens is a fun film--maybe even one of the funnest of the series. It looks spectacular, the characters are lovable, and the film invokes strong nostalgia through its production and by bringing back classic characters. Unfortunately, it does all this without saying a whole lot that's fresh or new. You could say Rey is so perfect that she faces no challenges and is boring. You could say that Kylo is a wimpy villain compared to Vader. You could say the story is exactly like A New Hope. You could say a lot of things that undercuts the integrity of the story, even though it sets up enough mystery boxes to keep you invested in the series.

I prefer to see the film for its strengths--there are many weaknesses, but any disappointment I have is directed solely on the payoffs we're given in the next installments (especially Rise of Skywalker). This movie succeeded in laying the groundwork and winning fans' hearts back. There was an awakening, and we all felt it for a time.

No comments:

Post a Comment