Movie Review: "Hereditary"

For the record, excitable quotes like "Heredity takes its place as a new generation's The Exorcist" does zero favors for either film. IMHO, this new film bears as much resemblance to Bill Friedkin's grueling art / s(c)h(l)ock masterpiece as Time Out contributor Joshua Rothkopf does to a knowledgeable horror movie critic. Make no mistake, Hereditary wears its influences on its sleeve, but the power of its execution and the depth of its subtext ensures that the movie is its own animal.

Toni Collette plays Annie Graham, a woman mourning the protracted and painful death of her cold and secretive mother. It's just the latest blow to a family that seems cursed with chronic mental illness and suicide. It's so prevalent that Annie's psychiatrist husband Steve (Gabriel Byrne) is powerless to exorcise the cloud of misery that lingers in their home like a dark physical presence. This pall is clearly taking a toll on their insular and fragile daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro) and their withdrawn and uncommunicative teen-aged son Peter (Alex Wolff).

Almost inevitably, tragedy strikes again, fracturing the family in such an unimaginable way that Annie believes supernatural manipulation is at work. An escalating series of odd things start to occur leading to a Gotterdammerung-style climax that will leave most viewers feeling as if they were struck in the head with a 2 x 4, And even though the finale is increasingly-steeped in cheesy scary movie  tropes, veteran horror hounds like myself will still be put off-kilter thanks to how well it's realized and how freakin' weird the whole thing is.

With auteur film-making becoming increasingly rare, its refreshing to watch a movie that's clearly the product of one person's vision. To that point, if you're looking for a committee-made, thrill-a-minute fright fest you'd be well-advised to look elsewhere. First time feature writer / director Ari Aster deliberately thumbs his nose at modern sensibilities, taking his sweet ass-time to establish his characters and the harmful, oppressive environment they're marinating in. Thankfully, both creator and viewer are rewarded for their patience because when things inevitably start to go shit-house, we're deeply invested by then and want to see how things shake out.

Aster shows considerably visual acuity, using plenty of Kubrickian symmetry to create an eerie, unnatural visual tableau. He also clearly likes to use depth of focus to plant startling sights in the background to freak out the viewer. Sorry, but if I have a choice between loud, boisterous and showy special effects extravaganzas like The Conjuring or Insidious, I'll take sly and understated every time. Nothing gives me the creeps quicker than barely catching some bizarre, half-glimpsed oddity lurking in the hinterland of a movie frame. 

And while the visual shocks are effective, what makes the film greater then the sum of its parts is the treasure trove of subtext lurking just below the surface. The opening shot is particularly telling. It starts on the tree house; a completely innocuous structure that eventually reveals its importance later on in the film. The camera pulls back from this into Annie's studio, pivots over to the  model of their home and then slowly zooms in on a miniature version of Peter's room. When this tiny diorama suddenly springs to life, the mind reels.
     
It's not just subtext, it's the sheer depth of the subtext that I marvel at. For example, it doesn't take a clinical psychologist to realize that Annie's profession is designed to compartmentalize and deal with her family's pain. At one point she even designs a diorama inspired by the film's most heart-wrenching moment, an act that confounds and horrifies her psychologist husband. To me, that opening shot is more than just Aster suggesting that higher powers are at work and the characters are just pawns in a labyrinthine construct. It suggest that Annie herself is the creator of the film's sensationalist threats.

To further this point, Aster realized the Graham's home as a series of interior stage sets, giving the environments the appearance and feel of a giant doll-house. The resulting viewing experience is decidedly voyeuristic, as if you're watching something that you shouldn't be privy to. And when these environments get back-filled with oddball visuals and creepy ambient sound effects, the effect is downright unnerving.

As Hereditary surrenders its secrets, the script is forced to embrace certain genre conventions. But by linking these revelations directly to Annie's lineage, a hoary old horror movie trope becomes a powerful analogy for her family's genetic-like predisposition towards mental illness. Mercifully,  Aster's cool direction, eye for twisted imagery and willingness to go for broke all help to elevate the film's pedigree.

The film's note-perfect performances also prevent the film from tipping into self-parody. Given all of the rigorous emotional gymnastics that Toni Collette is asked to navigate, it's to her credit that she doesn't betray a single miss-step. Gabriel Byrne is appropriately world-weary and laconic as Annie's put-upon husband Steve. Milly Shapiro's unforgettable debut as Charlie is nothing short of heart-breaking. She deserves some major props since most young actors wouldn't be able to make such a sullen, weird and petulant kid so sympathetic.

Perhaps the most interesting performance is that of Alex Wolff who plays Peter. Detached and distant for most of the film, Wolff makes a bold move during the seance scene, manifesting infantile levels of grief. This was pretty off-putting to me at first but then I thought about Wolff's motivation in this scene. By this point in time, Peter is a powder keg of bottled-up emotions, so when he finally breaks, it makes sense that it's messy. It also draws some interesting comparisons to his little sister, a choice that begs further scrutiny.

Having said that, there are a few baffling miss-steps during the finale. An anticipated moment of Oedipus-style self-mutilation, constantly hinted at, never materializes on-screen. In a another missed opportunity, a symbol referenced throughout the film could have been used to great effect, but it's also conspicuously absent. In its place, Aster serves up a clunky exposition dump delivered by an off-camera narrator which feels as if it was decreed by some wrong-headed test audience screening.

Perhaps the best thing I can say about Hereditary is that it virtually demands to be viewed a second time. Personally, I'm can't wait to re-watch it again for the express purpose of looking for early tells, especially anything that might fuel my own personal interpretation of the film. For that reason alone, I recognize Hereditary as a genuine artistic achievement that's sure to inspire debate and analysis for years to come.

Tilt: up. 

Movie Review: "Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse"

Back in the mid-80's, when Marvel Comics was in dire financial trouble, they sold their flagship character's exclusive film rights to Sony for a mere song and dance. Then, after years of development hell, everyone's favorite web-head finally appeared on the big screen in 2002. Thanks to a solid script by David Koepp, the distinctive and sure-handed direction of Sam Raimi and some excellent casting, the movie was a solid, if flawed, effort. By some minor miracle, the 2004 sequel was even better.

But that cinematic saga didn't have a happy ending. After Sam Raimi got sick of corporate interference, resulting in the tonally-schizophrenic and messily-plotted Spider-Man 3, the veteran film-maker walked away from a proposed fourth entry in the series. The concept was resurrected six years later, not-coincidentally around the same time when Marvel's remaining assets were blossoming from a string of vaguely connected hits into a bonafide cinematic universe.

Thinking they could piggy-back on Marvel's success, Sony rebooted Spider-Man in 2012. Unfortunately, despite the solid casting and hiring a promising young director, the resulting film featured a barely-recognizable Peter Parker, a superfluous parental mystery plot and a boring, one-dimensional villain. Worse still, Harry Osbourne's OsCorp was used to set up Spidey's legendary rogues gallery of villains in the scripting equivalent of throwing down an expandable pup tent. 

Sadly, this lumpen mess was followed by a downright embarrassing sequel two years later. In fact, Amazing Spider-Man 2 was such a rampant dumpster fire that Sony was forced to accept joint custody of Spidey with Mama Marvel in order to produce Spider-Man: Homecoming. And while that movie felt more John Hughes than J.M DeMatteis, it was still a perfectly acceptable romp.

Note to Kevin Feige: please, please, please ditch that friggin' OP Stark Spidey-suit, already. Our boi was never about tech, he's all about inner fortitude.

*A-hem*...sorry. I digress.

Anyway, when an animated Sony Spider-Man movie was announced it was barely a blip on my radar. Especially considering that the main character appeared to be Miles Morales, someone I had snobbily written off as an alternate reality version of our beloved web-head at best or fan fiction at worst.

Well, shiver my webs when Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse turned out to be not only one of the best Spider-Man properties ever released, but also one of the finest animated movies in recent memory. 

The premise, like so many other super hero flicks, is no great shakes. After The Kingpin (Liev Schreiber) loses his family in a car accident, he attempts to use a dangerous particle accelerator to pluck facsimiles of them out of another dimension. When the unwitting Miles (Shameik Moore) and a dogged Spider-Man (Chris Pine) intervene, the machine is temporarily disabled, Spidey is killed and Miles is forced to become the hero he needs to be.

Much of the film's charm comes from the pretense that the malfunctioning accelerator is creating a rift between dimensions, pulling Spider-people in from multiple realities. This results in Miles sharing copious screen time with a crusty, jaded, middle-aged Peter Parker (Jake Johnson), who acts like a barely-competent and nominally-engaged Mr. Miyagi. The scenes with Peter begrudgingly showing Miles the (web) ropes are among some of the best in the film.

This sci-fi MacGuffin also gives screenwriters Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman a chance to spin some deep cuts from Spidey's colorful history, ranging from the popular to the downright obscure. Hailee Steinfeld charmingly inhabits the dual role of Gwen Stacy / Spider-Woman, stealing her fair share of scenes in the process. For a welcome dash of Anime flair, Kimiko Glenn plays Peni Parker, a Japanese American teenager who co-pilots a Gundam-style robot (!) with a sentient radioactive spider (!!). By the time Nic Cage shows up as the hard-boiled Spider-Man Noir and John Mulaney bombs in as Peter Porker, The Spectacular Spider-Ham, fans will be firmly be on-board the crazy train.

Comic book nerds will also enjoy a plethora of established Spider-lore. Not only do we get the coolest incarnation of Aunt May ever thanks to a spirited vocal turn by Lily Tomlin, we also get a wildly-successful, gender-swapped version of Spidey's arch nemesis Doc Ock. Kathryn Hahn brings a fun, sprightly and cheerily-psychotic quality to this role, making it all her own. Add in welcome appearances by Tombstone (played by L.A rapper Krondon), Scorpion (Joaquín Cosío) and Zoë Kravitz as Mary Jane Watson and Spider-philes will be in seventh heaven. 

Thankfully the movie has plenty of heart to validate all of this fan service. Central to this is the relationship between Miles and his family. His Dad, Jefferson, distinctively voiced by Brian Tyree Henry, is a world-weary cop who's relentlessly driving his son towards a better life. This is tempered somewhat by his sympathetic mom Rio, played Luna Lauren Velez. Despite her best efforts, the relentless pressure forces Miles to seek solace in the company the black sheep of the family, his edgy uncle Aaron (Mahershala Ali). This dynamic plays out in unexpected and gratifying ways, putting many live-action non-genre films to shame.

Even this crusty ol' geek felt his withered heart thaw incrementally at times. Beyond the producers using an archived audio clip from the 2002 Raimi film of the late Cliff Robertson as Uncle Ben, the movie employs a powerful one-two punch of New Yorkers reacting to Spidey's demise and Stan Lee's posthumous cameo. Back to back, this threatened to reduce me into an emotional wreck.

With the bedrock of good plotting and characterization established, the film's wholly original visual style feels complimentary and not overwhelming. The animation is like nothing I've ever experienced; it's like an Alex Ross painting come to glorious life. I'd go so far as to say that this is the most "comic booky" film I've even seen, right down to written sound effects appearing on screen. The film's audio palette is just as immersive. Beyond the ambitious sound design, the musical score is absolutely incredible. Witness the distinctive, spine-jangling cue that accompanies the appearance of new Spider-foe The Prowler whenever he pops up.       

One admitted negative is in the depiction of The Kingpin. Liev Schreiber does a fantastic job, but I've never really viewed Wilson Fisk as a Tony Saprano-style mob boss. After Vincent D'Onofrio gave us the definitive final word on the character in the Netflix Daredevil show, I suppose the writers wanted to do something in contrast. That's all well and good, but we spend so little time with Fisk that this version doesn't hold a candle to D'Onofrio's.

Sure, the wonky particle accelerator is an easy way to dismiss the script's many vagaries, but who cares? Besides being tightly-plotted and well-voiced, the film's revolutionary visual flair never threatens to eclipse Miles or the other characters because they're so well defined. I urge you to see this one on the big screen, or at the very least, consider upgrading your home theaters so you can fully appreciate the spectacle in 4K.

   
Tilt: up.

Movie Review: "Terrifier"

So the other day I fired up the ol' GoogleMachine, queried "best recent horror movies" and out popped Terrfier. Since I've been on a slasher kick lately and it's right there on Netflix, I thought "Hey, why not check out what a modern example of the genre has to offer?"

The fact that the movie prominently features a creepy killer clown is also a bit of a personal dare. Full disclosure: I hate clowns. Actually that's putting it mildly: I effin' despise clowns. Every time my parents took me to a fair, flea market or car show as a kid, there'd always be some weirdo there dressed up like a falking clown. And every time, my brain would fail to reconcile this inexplicable sight.

'Okay, you're tall, so clearly you're an adult. But no sane adult would act or dress like that in public. Ergo, they must have a screw loose.'

Soon I'd be tugging on my parent's shirt-tails,  glancing over my shoulder and muttering "Hey, guys I'm just gonna go lock myself in the car, sit on the backseat floor and rock back and forth for awhile. The tire iron is still under the spare, right?" 

After re-visiting the classic 1978 version of Halloween recently, the visceral experience of watching Terrifier was downright jarring. But, hey, guess what? Horror movies, real horror movies, aren't supposed to be a montage of cheap jump scares, grainy night vision footage of doors slamming shut or anachronistic trips to the library to research why some hooded ponce with a dog keeps showing up. After emerging from the other side of a proper horror movie, you should feel inspired to find out if the director is still at large, walking around in polite society, free on their own recognizance.

Movies like The Exorcist, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the first and only truly great one), The Shining, Alien, Evil Dead, An American Werewolf in London, and Return of the Living Dead have all made me question the sanity of the film-makers. And such is the case with writer-director Damien Leone. Terrifier might not represent the high water mark of technical film-making, acting and screen-writing, but it also has a balls-to-the-wall, go-for-broke attitude that I find both admirable and decidedly nauseating.

The film opens with a severely disfigured woman being interviewed about her mutilation at the hands of a psychotic clown named Art who went on a killing spree one year ago. Later, when the same exploitative journalist is shown making snide comments about the victim, the interviewee just pops up from out of nowhere and murders her in her eye-holes.

Strap yourself in, kiddies. It's only gonna get worse.

Cut to our two protagonists, Tara (Jenna Kanell) and Victoria (Samantha Scaffidi) who are heading  home after some "drunken" Halloween shenanigans. They spot Art skulking at them from a distance and beat a hasty retreat to a nearby pizza parlor for solace...and a slice. Unfortunately, the grinning lunatic bombs in, "proposes" to Tina, and then gets thrown out after his "do-it-yourself" redecoration of the bathroom goes over like a lead balloon. After Tara and Victoria vamoose, Art returns to the pizza shop and gives the staff a stern lecture about how "the customer is always right"...by decapitating and / or viciously stabbing their eyes out.

Seriously, it's as if Damien Leone has some personal vendetta against intact eye sockets.

Almost by fate, Tara and Victoria inadvertently wander into the clown's spider web, which turns out to be a virtually-abandoned, dilapidated garage / tenement building that's inexplicably slated for fumigation. What follows is a grand guignol of violent murder, narrow escapes and visual depravity that'll put even the most hardened gore hound off their mixing bowl of Boo Berries.

Okay, so let's talk about the pros. First off, even though Terrifier looks like it was made for about forty-five bucks worth of Canadian Tire money, the low production values actually work in the film's favor. Like the original Dawn of the Dead and Texas Chainsaw Massacre, this movie actually looks like it smells bad. Between the dilapidated settings and Art himself (not to mention his gnarly bag of murder implements), the flick looks like it was shot in Smell-O-Vision and the knob snapped off on the "Reeks To High Heaven" setting.

The scant cash the producers did have is generally well-spent. Looking like the love child of a mime on bath salts and the Mouth of Sauron, Art himself is brilliantly realized. He's also impeccably inhabited by actor David Howard Thornton, who confidently steers the villain through bouts of playfulness, rage, resignation, and gleeful psychosis. He's creepy beyond all measure and single-handedly drags the entire production over the goal line.

And although the facial mutilation makeup shown at the beginning of the film is so over-the-top that it looks unintentionally goofy, the rest of Art's handiwork is up-chuckingly convincing. As a professional makeup artist, Damien Leone's practical gore effects are flawless and all of the kills are creatively brutal. In fact, there's a hacksaw decapitation scene that's so nasty and well-executed (pun not intended) that it would inspire a slow-clap from Tom Savini.

There's another sequence that had me just sitting there, staring at the screen and muttering to myself "Nope. No way. They're not gonna do that, are they? Naw...there's no way that they could possibly...Welp, nope, there he goes!" In one fell swoop, this scene:

1. Avenges every Friday the 13'th flick that had it's creative makeup effects savagely and mercilessly hacked out by the biased MPAA. 
2. Shows up all the milquetoast PG-13 dreck that's been passing for horror films lately.
3. Informs the viewers that the kid gloves are off and absolutely anything can happen. 

Between this and some painfully-protracted scenes of Art slowly stalking and toying with his victims, the tension just builds and builds.

Also, with typical mainstream Hollywood fare, you know exactly who's gonna be left standing when the end credits roll. That isn't the case with Terrifier. Since Damien Leone is a bonafide psychopath, he's clearly not beholden to established tropes. Just because you've decided to make a slasher movie, it doesn't mean that you have to advertise who your FINAL GIRL is within five minutes of run time.

As for the performances, it's a real mixed bag. In addition to the aforementioned and thoroughly- exemplary David Howard Thornton, Jenna Kanell is resolute and likable as Tara, although her growing discomfort isn't always convincing. Catherine Corcoran is suitably boorish and amusingly fake-drunk as Victoria. Samantha Scaffidi is appropriately tired as Tara's put-upon sister Victoria and acts shell-shocked as the nightmare unfolds. And while most of the minor performances are pretty ham-fisted, they don't occupy enough screen (scream?) time to sink the proceedings.

Where the film suffers the most is in the writing, or lack thereof. My two-to-three-word descriptors of the performances also pretty much sum up the characters as a whole. Tara is the GOOD GIRL, Victoria is the PARTY GIRL and Victoria is, um...ANOTHER GOOD GIRL. It also doesn't help that the interview and hospital scenes that book-end the film are both pretty pointless. The fact that Tina just so happens to randomly wander into "Uncle Art's High Rise of Blood" is also pretty far-fetched. Then there's the scene where Art experiences some sort of supernatural "re-charge". Perhaps this was explained in his prior on-screen appearance but in the context of the story here it makes zero sense.

The movie also suffers from some sloppy technical issues as well. While the cheap, shot-on-digital image quality gives the film it's "bargain basement" aroma, it also looks like a student film. The scene where the second exterminator shows up even goes wildly out of focus at one point. The coroner's lab sequence is also a complete failure. This should be a pristine and sterile environment but instead it looks as if it was shot in the same run-down apartment building. There are some glaring gaffes that took me out of the film as well, such as when Art "strangles" Tara but he's barely touching her throat.

Like I said, experiencing Terrifier was quite the system shock after watching Halloween. Whereas the latter is an oddly-classy thriller with a distinctive score, memorable characters, generally good performances, tight direction, intriguing back-story and wonderful cinematography, the former doesn't aspire to any lofty goals.

Say what you want about Terrifier, but at least it does what it says on the tin. It's mean-spirited, vicious, nasty, repellent, tense, vile and uncompromising. It's a sleazy carnival fun-house that you dare your friends to try to get through without soiling their Underoos™ or yarfing up their candy corn.

With frayed nerves and bleary eyes, I managed to stumble out of Terrifier's finale, but unlike the experience provided by venerable predecessors like Halloween, I have no intention of subjecting myself to this particular spook show ever again.   
       

Tilt: down

Movie Review: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

Have you ever heard so much universally bad stuff about a movie that you started to think: '*PFFFTTT!* It can't possibly be that bad. Can it?'

Between Man of Steel's tone-deaf franchise launch and the venomous word of mouth surrounding Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, I decided pass on seeing the latter in theaters. Or on video, for that matter. But when it recently landed on Netflix like a bag of wet cement I thought to myself: 'Seriously, this flick has three iconic superheroes in it. How bad could it be?'

Now, movies can have a lasting impact on the viewer for several reasons. Some are wild n' crazy roller-coaster rides that serve up a truly visceral experience. Others unfold slowly and deliberately, like a satisfying visual novel. Some movies make you so invested in what you're watching that you never want them to end.

But occasionally you encounter a movie that's so thoroughly and completely devoid of any redeeming features that it baffles you. The sheer awfulness of what you witnessed stays lodged in your brain like a splinter and you're left trying to fathom how in god's name they managed to cock things up so spectaculalrly.

And that's where I'm at right now with Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. I'm trying to figure out who's most to blame for this burning trash heap. A lot of people have pointed the finger exclusively  at director Zack Snyder but honestly, unless the dude gave explicit marching orders to screenwriters Chris Terrio and David S. Goyer, then those two chuckle-heads are just as complicit.

Like many of Snyder's past films, including Dawn of the Dead, 300 and Watchmen, Batman v Superman looks good at the very least. Granted it would have looked even better if it wasn't cloaked in the same muted, boring, grimdark color filter that seems to taint every modern blockbuster nowadays. The incessant Blade Runner-levels of rain, fog and smoke certainly don't help matters any.

So, there you go, I said a good thing. It looks fine. Oh, and Jeremy Irons' Alfred is salty good fun. But everything else, and I mean everything else, is a complete and utter waste of time and effort.

Awrite, let's get on with the autopsy.

So the whole conceit of the film is that we're eventually gonna see Bats and Supes go mano-a-mano with each other. Now, based on seventy-odd years of comic book lore, we already know that these two are the superhero equivalent of oil and water. In spite of this, they still generally get along with each other and it would probably take a lot to put them at loggerheads.

And this represents the film's two biggest failures. First off, I didn't believe for a second that Batman and / or Superman were even in this movie and secondly: I wasn't convinced that these two impostors had any legitimate reason to be pissed off at one another.

The movie starts with a flashback to the protracted, obnoxious, hyperactive orgy of mayhem that was the finale of Man of Steel. Bruce Wayne (played by an alternately sullen or unhinged Ben Affleck) realizes that one of his office buildings is smack dab in the middle of the destructive tilt between Superman and General Zod. But instead of calling someone in the building and telling them to evacuate or, better yet, hiring employees capable of autonomous thought or a sense of self-preservation, we gets this hilariously over-the-top sequence whereby Bruce drives his SUV directly into the heart of ground zero.

He arrives just as the building collapses. Throwing caution to the wind, OUR HERO rushes into the smoke cloud, frees an employee who's legs are pinned under a steel girder and then pauses to hug an orphaned girl who clearly picked the worst possible time to participate in "Take Your Moppet To Work Day". As the camera closes in, we see Bruce seething in helpless rage as the two super-titans continue to clash overhead.

Notwithstanding the rank idiocy of the execution, there's actually some potential here. In fact, here's the story I would have explored:

Given the widespread carnage that Superman blissfully presided over at the end of Man of Steel, it makes perfect sense that the entire population of Earth is scared shitless of Superman and other Kryptonians. This immediately renders all of Batman v Superman's conspiracy crap entirely superfluous.

This also serves as the perfect impetus for Batman to emerge from the shadows of Gotham and start formulating a plan to contain Superman and his ilk. Inter-cut between Batman's efforts, we see Supes trying to make amends by re-building the damage, working overtime to rescue people, and getting cats down from trees. Y'know the kinda stuff we actually expect to see Superman do.

Being the observant dude that he is, Batman picks up on Superman's contrition tour and this colors his opinion of the guy. So when they finally meet, Batman believes that our boi is sincere and they step away from the brink of confrontation. But little do they know, a rat bastard by the name of Lex Luthor is cooking up ways to derail this budding bromance. He uses Red Kryptonite to turn Supes to the Dark Side, which, in turn, activates Batman's contingency plan and they end up tangling.

But since Batman is a sharp cookie, he realizes that something is seriously wrong. He exposes  Luthor's scheme, reverses the effect, and they rush off to confront the baddie together. Lex is ready for them, tho, and takes them on wearing a Kryponite-fueled Power Suit. In the end, teamwork saves the day and the villain is defeated. Close curtains.

I think this idea (working title: World's Finest, natch) would have made gobs of money and, most importantly, viewers wouldn't have felt compelled to slit their wrists and climb into a warm bathtub.

But nope, that's not what we got. Here's what we got instead:

• A boring, pointless subplot about a bullet which is nothing more than a thinly-veiled Lois Lane make-work project. Look, if there's any sleuthing to be done here, it needs to be done by The Worlds Greatest Detective. *PSSSTTT*...I'm talking about Batman, kids. 
• Speaking of the Dark Knight, we get a Batman here who's a dim, psychotic, Crossfit-obsessed goon that murders people at will and isn't much better than the scumbags he's annihilating. Particularly moronic is his habit of branding people, which is supposed to convey a "death sentence" in prison. Dafuq? Wouldn't your fellow criminals sympathize with you for being branded by an unhinged nutjob? Don't worry, just throw it over there on the pile of other shit that doesn't makes sense. 
• More wasted screen time in the form of a Russian weapons trafficker.
• A very confused Lex Luthor. Notwithstanding a few throw-away lines of over-wrought dialogue about God and his daddy issues, I guess Luthor was scared of aliens just like everyone else. But, wait, that doesn't make any sense because he ends up hand-crafting the greatest  rogue alien threat on the planet. At first Lex offers to help the government prep their Kryptonian defense but when they realize that he's crazier than a shit-house rat they cut all of their ties to him. Didn't anyone find it odd that the film's primary villain has the exact same motivation as Batman? Luthor is most certainly a bad guy since he blows up a bunch of innocent people and molests poor Ma Kent, so why didn't they just give him a distinctly different and self-serving motivation? In my scenario, Lex would be an ethically-bankrupt / Martin Shkreli / corporatist scumbag who's never heard the word "no" during his entire cushy life, so he starts to panic when two incorruptible super-powered vigilantes start sniffing around. *BAM!* Instant motivation! But, hey, what do I know? I'm just simple man who has a soft spot for frivolous crap like logic, plotting, character motivation and common sense. 
• In order to fast-track the DCEU and "keep up with Marvelses", Wonder Woman was  unceremoniously shoe-horned into this shlock-pile. Is there anything sadder than making "creative" decisions based on playing catch-up to your competitor? Oh, wait, how 'bout waiting seventy plus years to give one the most iconic super heroes ever a live-action movie role only to make her third banana to a couple of already-prolific assholes? Oh wait, it was also done to set up a Justice League movie that hasn't been earned and trick fans into buying more movie tickets. Disgusting.  
• Speaking of completely cynical corporate decisions, I love how Lex Luthor was meta enough to compose three l'il teaser trailers for Wonder Woman, the Flash and Cyborg for us. He even had the presence of mind to design some tres-marketable thumb-nailed logos for all of them. Convenient.    
• There's no story here, just a series of stitched-together clips of random shit. Witness Bruce's nightmare where he envisions Superman's dystopian future state. I'm still trying to pinpoint the worst thing about this sequence. Is it our first look at the Batsuit, which looks completely ridiculous in broad daylight? Maybe it's the screenwriter's decision to show Superman callously murdering people with his heat vision and Batman gunning down enemies without a second thought? Or what about those inexplicable winged creatures flying around like locusts? Yeah, I'm gonna go with the latter because, unless you're heavily steeped in comic book lore, you'd likely have no clue that these things are supposed to be minions of the DCEU's future Big Bad: Darkseid. When you throw in Bruce's non-sequitur "Flash"-back, you realize that none of this was done to improve the quality of the movie you're currently watching, its designed to set up sequels that the audience no longer wants because you haven't bothered to make a good movie yet. Hey: Zack Snyder, Chris Terrio and David S. Goyer: live in the now.  
• Oh, man, do not get me started on the laughably inept character of Wallace Keefe played by Scoot McNairy (!). Wallace is the employee that Bruce Wayne rescues at the beginning of the film. Look, it makes sense that Wallace has a grudge against Superman, but I can't fathom why he'd refuse Bruce's compensation checks and then suicide bomb himself. Does he agree to do this just because Luthor paid for his bail and bought him a shiny new wheelchair? How did Lex sweeten that particular pot? Did he convince this dumb, sad fuck that the wheelchair was transferable to the afterlife? 
• Granny's Peach Tea. 'Nuff said.
• I assume Zack Snyder is the main reason for my next gripe but Terrio and Goyer are likely accessories to the crime. I hate how this piece of junk shamelessly cribs from The Dark Knight Returns. At the end of that classic graphic novel, Superman and Batman have a knock-down, drag out, Pier 6 donnybrook. It's the stuff of comic book legend. The key difference between The Dark Knight Returns and Batman v Superman is that the former earns this confrontation thanks to meticulous plotting and character development while the latter just uses the former as a storyboard reference. The most odious implication: if anyone tries to lens a live-action adaptation of Miller's seminal work in the future it'll probably be viewed as derivative by morons who saw Batman v Superman and somehow liked it. Fuck, that pisses me off.
• Snyder and company somehow manage to double down on the sickening vein of Objectivist bullshit that tainted Man of Steel. Ma Kent, played by Diane Lane, spins a few of Ayn Rand's greatest hits for both her son and the oblivious audience. After the general population turns on Superman, for good reason mind you, Clark goes to see his moms and gets the following piece of sterling advice: "Be their hero, Clark. Be their angel, be their monument, be anything they need you to be... or be none of it. You don't owe this world a thing. You never did." What a giant crock of horse-shit. The whole point of Superman is that, in spite of his boundless power, he's completely selfless and wants to do good by others. He could easily enact Batman's future-nightmare scenario, but he doesn't. Trying to turn an intrinsically-good character like Superman into a selfish prick is the heights of cynicism. Please, Zack, go make The Fountainhead already and get this sophomoronic crap out of your system. At least that garbage comes pre-ruined.  
• As if that wasn't bad enough, Clark goes to visit his Dad's grave site and a haggard-looking Kevin Costner suddenly materializes like a Force Ghost and tells him the following "inspirational" tale: "I remember one season the water came bad. I couldn't've been twelve. Dad had out the shovels and we went at it all night. We worked 'til I think I fainted, but we managed to stop the water. We saved the farm. Your grandma baked me a cake, said I was a hero. Later that day we found out we blocked the water alright...we sent it upstream. A whole Lange farm washed away. While I ate my hero cake, their horses were drowning. I used to hear them wailing in my sleep." Now, need I remind you that this pretentious drivel is in a movie featuring a flying indestructible man in a cape, a guy dressed up like a bat and an Amazon? Hey, kids, are ya havin' fun yet? Remember this message: don't even try to be good 'cuz it's only gonna blow up in your face! Jesus Christ, the makers of this film should be sued for criminal de-hope-ification and misappropriation of heroic icons.
• "SAVE...MARFA...!!!" Y'know, if this scene had been presented with a deft hand, it could have been an effective and dramatic TSN Turning Point. Unfortunately, between Henry Cavill's hammy delivery, Ben Affleck's scenery chewing, Batman's goofy suit of armor, the glowing green spear thingie and Snyder's pretentious direction, the whole thing comes off as unintentionally hilarious.
• Even I have to admit that the Martha Kent rescue sequence is legitimately well-staged and features the best Batman-related hand-to-hand combat I've ever seen on screen. Pity its ruined when Batverine snaps and starts blowing up, stabbing and shooting people with gleeful abandon. 
• Similarly, there's a pointless action set piece earlier in the film when Batman attempts to steal Kryptonite from Lex Luthor. Granted, on-screen Batmobile chases of yore have always featured a certain level of, shall we say, collateral damage but this time we see Batman machine-gunning enemy vehicles and flinging cars all over the place with a grappling hook. I.E. he's straight-up murdering motherfuckers. Its the equivalent of Snyder and company shouting at the audience: "See, kids?!? This ain't yer daddy's Batman! Our Batman is a total EDGELORD. He's SAVAGE as FUX!" The really funny thing is that Batman doesn't get the Kryptonite and all of that death and mayhem is completely pointless. In the end, the Dork Knight sneaks into Lexcorp and steals it off-screen. Man, that would have been a much more tense, character-appropriate and inexpensive thing to do! 
• The whole comedy of errors with the spear smacks of the screenwriters trying to appease Amy Adams' agent. 
• Lex Luthor molests the body of General Zod and turns him into an Uruk-Hai....er, Doomsday.  Great, yet another story thread that's completely frittered away. Here DINO (Doomsday In Name Only) amounts to a giant CGI orc that Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman have to team up to defeat. Honestly, it's as if Snyder, Terrio and Goyer saw X-Men: The Last Stand and thought "Yes! This is the perfect way to alienate fans, confuse casual movie-goers and piss away a bunch of perfectly good story points all at the same time!" 

Now, those might be the movie's most obvious sins, but Batman v Superman isn't even good from a nuts n' bolts perspective. In fact, he film's most crippling liability is that the atrocious writing and the ham-fisted dialogue results in some pretty dismal performances.

Although I staunchly maintain that all three of our principal heroic leads are well-cast, they aren't given anything remotely interesting to do. Henry Cavill's Superman gets a particularly short shift. He floats through the entire film with a permanently-furrowed brow and a sour expression nailed to his face. Whenever he's on screen as Superman he's either put upon or surly or both. Also, since there's no perceivable difference between Clark Kent and Superman in either appearance or behavior, it's ridiculous to think that not a single investigative journalist at the Daily Planet has put two and two together yet.

In theory, Ben Affleck should be a great Batman / Bruce Wayne. Unfortunately all he's asked to do here is act like a sad bag of spoiled milk. He oscillates constantly between mopey and apoplectic. Gal Gadot is the physical embodiment of Wonder Woman but she's mainly on hand to help the two menfolk beat up a giant cartoon monster. The script also manages the impossible task of making Amy Adams a liability. Every time she's on-screen the script makes us feel as if we're all in purgatory. 

But Jesse Eisenberg as Lex Luthor is definitely the film's cardinal sin of casting. And even though I kinda dig the idea of Luthor being a Mark Zuckerberg / Silicon Valley nerd, Eisenberg's take is too manic and too silly to work. I wish he'd been more reserved and socially inept as opposed to unhinged. As it stands, Eisenberg is about as threatening to me as, well, me...ranting about this stupid movie. I also can't help but picture someone with the gravitas of Bryan Cranston in the role. 

So, yeah, beyond some decent casting and cool visuals pilfered from a vastly superior piece of legitimate art, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is a vast wasteland. The dialogue is heavy-handed and self-important, the story feels as if it was improvised on set, it's completely devoid of any joy and the entire cast looks like they're on Xanax. Even worse: the titular tilt that takes forever to come around ends up throwing in the kitchen sink and becoming inadvertently funny. 

  
P.S. normally at this point in the review I'd say something diplomatic and / conciliator such as: "Yeah, well, even though the movie didn't work for me, I'm glad it worked for you." Not this time, folks. In fact, I'm just gonna come right out and say this: if you think that Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is a good movie then I'm afraid you're part of the problem.

The way I look at it, you can't be a fan of the source material because the characters are so far removed from their comic book counterparts as to be unrecognizable. It's the equivalent of yodeling and banging the butt end of a mike stand on a snare drum and and calling it your cover of "Master of Puppets". And you can't claim that it's good as a regular ol' film because the plot, dialogue performances and editing are all universally terrible.

In fact, the only reason why someone might like Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice is because it's full of spectacle. But since the movie is so dour, depressing and poorly edited it scarcely qualifies on a purely superficial level.     

I hate to break it to you, but if you like this movie, you really need to take a long, hard look at yourself. Your aesthetic is broken and you need to fix it.

           Tilt: down

Hey, guys! If you enjoyed this review, please consider buying me a Coffee. Maybe then I can afford to watch a better movie. 

S̶e̶v̶e̶n̶t̶e̶e̶n EIGHTEEN Things That Annoy Me About "The Force Awakens"

When Star Wars first hit theaters in May of 1977, it was the first of its kind. As such, audiences just kinda rolled with it. The opening crawl and the capture of the Tantive IV was more than enough to get movie-goers on board. We knew that an evil Empire had taken over this galaxy far, far away and a plucky band of Rebels, led by Leia, stood to oppose them. Simple.

The Force Awakens didn't enjoy that same privilege. Indeed, the 2015 sequel came pre-burdened with over thirty years worth of missing chronology, a gap that writers Lawrence Kasdan, J. J. Abrams and Michael Arndt largely chose to ignore. Instead, they decided to sew a bunch of ambitious but superficial new story threads which The Last Jedi found virtually impossible to explore in any original or satisfying way.

Now, in reading this list, you might conclude that I completely hate this movie, but I don't. In fact,  compared to the prequels, I think this movie is a reasonably well crafted piece of entertainment. It's just that, whenever I'm watching it, stuff niggles at me like a splinter in my brain.

So, here then are "Seventeen Things That Annoy Me About The Force Awakens".

(18) Rey the Resplendent

 
So, right from the get-go, Rey, our main protagonist...

• Understands both droid and Wookiee. 
• Flies the Millennium Falcon like a pro despite the fact that she's never been at the helm. 
• Instinctively knows what a Jedi Mind Trick and a Force Pull is...and knows how to perform them with scarcely any effort. 
• Handily beats a seasoned Force user in a lightsaber duel.

Because if this, I find it virtually impossible to connect to Rey. Luke is my all-time favorite Star Wars character and its not because he's male, its because he's flawed. Indeed, for half the saga's run time he's moody, reckless and impatient but he learns from his mistakes, grows up a little bit and eventually becomes a Jedi.

As for Rey, she's already fully formed right from the outset. Where's the struggle, the change, the growth...her freakin' character arc fer Chrissakes?!?

It's one thing to have a boring, flawless protagonist, but the writers don't even bother to acknowledge this. Sure, we get a few token scenes where she finds some parts, goes home, cleans 'em up, sells 'em, makes bread and has a nosh while wearing a rebel pilot helmet, but none of this qualifies as character development.

Look, if you're gonna front-load her with all of these inherent abilities, at least give us some insight. Perhaps some peril befalls her in the belly of the downed star destroyer, and only through an uncanny combination of skill and luck she barely manages to survive. Then, during the flight from Jakku, she pulls another instinctive, but otherwise impossible, stunt which prompts a dumbfounded Finn to just stare at her and say "That was impossible! We should be dead...how did you do that?" Then she could briefly explain that she's always had this ability to do things without the benefit of training, as if these memories and talents have been bred into her.

After all, isn't this what the writers were alluding to? Unfortunately Rey's set up was so glossed over that The Last Jedi just saw fit to ignore it. Doing things my way would have at least quantified this intriguing mystery and obliged Rian Johnson to pursue it. Other than learning a few lessons about heroes and history, Rey feels just as two-dimensional at the end of Episode VIII as she did at the beginning.

(17) Poe the Perfect

It makes sense that this new trilogy introduces a fresh-faced, hot-shot pilot, but does he have to be the aerial equivalent of Legolas in Return of the King?

He has no problem piloting a T.I.E. Fighter, he miraculously survives certain death (see below) and during the defense of Maz's castle he shoots down about dozen enemy ships and countless ground troops in quick succession as if they're standing still.

Which leads me to my biggest issue with The Force Awakens: there's hardly any peril. Unlike the original trilogy, the heroes are all hyper-competent and the bad guys are a bunch of incompetent fuck-ups.

(16) "WHAT IS GOING ON  HERE?!?"

 
What exactly is The Resistance? And who are the First Order? When we last left the Rebels, they'd struck a decisive blow against the Empire. We felt content that the story was told and good guys had won the day. So, what the hell happened in the galaxy over the past thirty / forty years?!?

Maybe the remnants of the Imperial fleet retreated to some distant corner of the galaxy, re-branded themselves and eventually came back with a vengeance. And maybe the New Republic, weary of conflict, just let them do their thing, underscoring the dangers of capitulation. Maybe the Resistance sprung up because Leia recognized the impending threat and could see where things were headed.

Unfortunately, everything I just typed above is an assumption. I've never read any supplemental Star Wars books and I flat out refuse to. Frankly, if I gotta read an effin' novel just to give this movie some badly-needed context, then things are clearly flawed.

All we needed were a few quick lines of dialogue to flash-paint in a few details and we would have been fine. Instead the producers leave us fumbling in the dark and assume that we'll give a shit about what transpires, despite the fact that there's scarcely any frame of reference.

(15)  Finn the Fickle

Like all of the other grunts, Finn was hypothetically brainwashed since birth to be completely loyal to the First Order. So why is he the only one to freeze up, go rogue and start slaughtering his fellow soldiers? What makes him so special? Sure forcing someone to go from sanitation to mass murder is pretty extreme, but this is never explored.

Instead a very interesting story thread is left twisting in the wind. And since modern blockbusters don't believe in dialogue and character development anymore, we'll likely never know Finn's story.

(14) First Order Stormtrooper Helmets Are Apparently Strictly Ornamental 

As if stormtrooper armor wasn't useless enough, Finn tells Rey that their helmets don't filter out toxins, just dust. Um...why? One of the selling features of original stormtrooper armor is that it's vacuum sealed and the wearer can exist in open space for a brief time.

Nit-picky? Sure. Idiotic?  Definitely. Worse still, this dumb-ass reference only seems to exist to legitimize Rey's "gas-trap" scheme, which doesn't even materialize anyway.

(13) "A Good Question...For Another Time." 

"Hey, Maz! Ever hear the phrase 'there's no better time than the present?'" 

Nothing irks me more than this exchange between Han and Maz at the mid-way point of the film:

Maz: I've had this for ages. Kept it locked away. (casually gives Han Luke's long-lost lightsaber)
Han: Where did you get that?
Maz: A good question...for another time.

Now, if I was Han, and I'd just been casually handed one of the most valuable artifacts lost during a  pivotal point in the Rebellion, I'd be like "Look, bitch, I don't care if we're under attack. I'm gonna pull up a chair and a Rubik's cube, we're both gonna sit down and you're gonna explain this to me or  I'm gonna punt your wrinkly ass right up against that basement wall."

Unless Rian Johnson had strict marching orders not to talk about this, I think it's unforgivable that we haven't been given any insight into this, the single biggest question posed by The Force Awakens. And, I swear to Crom, if Abrams doesn't spill the beans on this in The Rise of Skywalker I'm gonna be sending him my own effin' "mystery box", if you know what I'm sayin'.

Spoiler alert: the box is gonna be filled wif mah poo.

(12) "I LIKE this thing!"

You mean to tell me that after forty fucking years, Han has never, ever used Chewie's bowcaster? Mondo bullshit like this makes me suspect that Abrams was shining us on every time he professed to be a massive Star Wars fan during every interview.

(11) Starkiller Base

Okay, so, an enslaved galaxy producing a moon-sized battle station in the original trilogy is far-fetched enough but how did the First Order get the manpower and resources to convert an entire planet into a super weapon? If my suspicions RE: the First Order existing on the fringe of the galaxy for decades are accurate, then this concept becomes even more ludicrous.

I think it would have been better if the New Republic built the thing as a defensive weapon against the surging First Order, with Leia protesting its construction. Then maybe the bad guys could bomb in and steal it. The fact that it gets blowed up, Death Star-style is also pretty boring.

It would have been a lot more interesting if the Resistance only managed to disable it. That way the producers wouldn't have to wrack their brains coming up with yet another improbable mega-weapon for Episode IX.

(10) Hux's Rant

 
Look, I know the Empire, and now the First Order, are just a bunch of thinly-veiled Space Nazis but isn't Hux's apoplectic speech a tad on the nose, not to mention comically over-the-top? Seriously, who's he trying to convince here? If Mussolini was in the audience he'd be like "Dude, take it down a notch!"

(9) Science Fantasy...To The XXX-TRM

Star Wars was never been known for hard science, but its getting ridiculous now. In an effort to let the heat blow over, Han takes Rey to Maz Kanata's backwater planet because its supposed to be out of the way. Well, if that's the case, how the hell can they see the core planets of the Republic getting blown up by Starkiller Base? And, um, wouldn't the entire solar system be boned if the base drained the closest sun of all of its energy?

(8) "TRAITOR!!!"...To Good Storytelling

  
The stormtrooper who throws away a perfectly good blaster to engage Finn in melee combat is a fucking idiot. And why doesn't he at least flinch when Finn produces a rare, notoriously-deadly weapon like a lightsaber? Shouldn't this clown be taken aback ever so slightly?

And instead of using a random nobody like FN-2199, why didn't the screenwriters use this as an opportunity to explore Phasma and Finn's mutual animosity? Instead, we get a pointless sequence featuring two unrelated characters who whale on each other just for the sake of an obligatory duel.

(7) Pop-Up Poe

 "What took you guys so long?"

Despite being written off as dead, Poe Dameron miraculously materializes back at the Resistance base with zero explanation. Honestly, if blatantly-lazy storytelling like this doesn't bother you, then you might be part of the problem.

(6) Maybe It's Him, Maybe Its Mandalore

 "HuuuNNN!!! Rrrowoooaaarrr...!!!"

Translation: "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!"

Why does Chewbacca look so goddamn well-coifed? I know that wookiees are long-lived and all but its been forty years and he looks better than he did in Jedi. What kind of galactic Benjamin Button shit is this? Will he look like Lumpy in the next trilogy?

This could have been a good opportunity to make him look a tad scruffier, perhaps sporting a distinguished grey streak. Instead he looks like a wookiee version Sofia Vergara.

(5) The "Dialogue"

Finn: Not anymore. The name's Finn and I'm in charge. I'm in charge now, Phasma. I'm in charge.
Han Solo: [to Finn] Bring it down. Bring it down.

Han Solo: I'm trying to be helpful.
Leia: When did that ever help? And don't say the Death Star.

I don't know what's worse, the blatant fan service or the contemporary humor which sticks out like a sore thumb. 

(4) The REAL Traitor

"HALT! Or I'll ask you to halt again!"

Despite Phasma's bad-ass appearance, she ends up folding quicker than Barry Allen on laundry day.

Why would a fanatical military leader, who's likely conditioned to resist torture and intimidation, voluntarily lower the Starkiller Base shield, risking its destruction and the lives of countless allies? It just smacks of script convenience.

Since the First Order models itself after the Empire, Phasma must know that they don't suffer failure, let alone outright capitulation, very lightly. At the very least, The Last Jedi shows us that Phasma suffered some pretty major repercussions for her surrender.

Oh, wait, she doesn't. Like at all.

(3) Convenience Earthquake

 
I really would have preferred just about any other way to break up the Rey / Kylo fight. What is this, The Search for Spock?

(2) "What, That Walking Carpet? *Ugh*, He's Soooo 1983."

 
Why does a sad Chewbacca (Sadbacca?) just drift past an oblivious Leia at the end of the movie? Shouldn't they console each other first before Leia goes to Rey?

You had one job, Abrams! Well, admittedly you had a lot of jobs, but putting Leia and Rey's grief before Leia and Chewbacca's was inexplicable. 

(1) Not Particularly E-luke-sive.

 
If Luke was so hell-bent on never, ever being found then why did he leave a map to his location floating around out there in the galaxy? And why did he deliberately plant a part of it in R2's memory banks? I know Mark Hamill is famous for playing the Joker, but is he also auditioning for The Riddler?

And just because a computer is in "low power mode" it certainly doesn't mean that you can't see the files it has on it. Even if Luke buried the map deep in R2's memory banks or password protected that shit, surely one talented Resistance slicer could dig it up?

Fun fact: if you were to tear Branson, Missouri out of a map of the United States and then give it to someone, they'd still be able to travel to Branson, Missouri.

Finally, how does R2 know precisely when to "come to" at the end of the movie?

Honestly, so much in this flick completely baffles me.

***

Because The Force Awaken was so derivative of A New Hope, I think it's solely responsible for this current Last Jedi fan schism. People lost their shit over the new film because it didn't spend its run time aping Empire and hand-picking the most popular fan theories.

And, honestly, I don't blame writer/director Rian Johnson one bit. When he sat down to write Episode VIII, he knew that he'd end up with a boring, predictable, workmanlike story that added nothing new if all he did was fill in the blanks. This all adds up to an important lesson. You can add as many fancy eaves, towers and parapets as you want to your house, but if the foundation is rotten, it's still gonna collapse.

I don't envy the writers of  Episode IX since, in my opinion, they still need to address the questions lingering from the first film while giving people a satisfying and reasonably-original conclusion. And if the third film fails, this whole new saga is gonna founder under the weight of unrealistic expectations while sullying the classic trilogy that came before it.

Oh, for the record: I have a very simple solution to all of this. Just invent a time machine, go back to 1997 and convince George Lucas to let three talented directors helm the Heir to the Empire trilogy.

Done. 

Movie Review: "Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi" (REDUX)

Review Addendum added 2/16/2022.

Since Disney always intended to make a trilogy after acquiring the Star Wars property from George Lucas for $4.1 billion dollars, I always suspected that my initial reviews of the first two films were little more than temporary placeholders. 

So, now that Star Wars: Episode IX - The Rise of Skywalker has been out for a good two years now, I find myself in a very unusual situation. Even though I'm loathe to  revisit reviews, I feel compelled to do it in this particular case. Based on the final product, I want to go back and take a good, hard look the first two films of the trilogy.

Naturally, I started things off with The Force Awakens, but now it's time to move onto the contentious middle chapter: Rian Johnson's The Last Jedi. 

Instead of deleting, augmenting or altering my original review in any way, I've decided to annotate any places where time, deeper consideration, or The Rise of Skywalker, have altered my opinions. You'll see these comments throughout in bold italics.

Okay, so on to the original review:

So, here we are. Another year, another Star Wars movie.

Hey, Disney! Since I know you read every one of my reviews, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret:

People can get sick of Star Wars.

Don't believe me? Well, I've seen it happen before. After 1983's Return of the Jedi, people were positively done with it. And that included me, the most passionate, crazed fan that George Lucas ever could have hoped to indoctrinate. But, even at the tender age of thirteen, I knew that the brightest flames burn out the quickest. And, honestly, at that stage in my life, I was okay to put Star Wars behind me and move on to other things. 
 
So, Disney, I really think you need to cool it after Episode IX. Because, I assure you, there can be too much of a good thing, especially when good things are getting increasingly scarce.

Reading this now, it's as if I knew what was coming. A huge contingent of Star Wars fans absolutely loathed The Last Jedi, and basically boycotted Solo when it was released six months later. Which is kind of a shame, since I think that flick has the most cohesive script of all the Disney Star Wars movies. 

Fun experiment: if someone tells me that they loathed The Last Jedi, I always ask them what they thought of Rogue One. If they say "Oh, bro, I totally LOVED that movie!" then I just smile politely and change the conversation 'cuz I recognize a bridge too far when I see it. 

More on the inexplicable cult of Rogue One later. 

Before we continue, please permit me a brief autobiographical note. I've been a diehard Star Wars fan since May of 1977. After the saga went to fallow for over fifteen years, the prequels had tremendous potential to tap into nostalgia and add to the myth. Unfortunately, the resulting "films" were clearly made by someone who couldn't reconcile his role as THE SOLE CREATOR with the obvious limits of his talent.

I never thought I'd say this, but in some ways, the sequel films kinda make the prequels look good in comparison. Sure, the prequels have shitty dialogue, infantile situations, bad CGI, boring characters, questionable motivations and nonsensical plotting, but at least they have a single cohesive and thematic story...and they're the product of one man's creative spark. As opposed to something rushed out the door as a return on net assets.  

The Force Awakens brought me back into the fold somewhat. Even though that movie was blatantly derivative and many of the things that happened on screen ranged from inexplicable to downright stupid, I still liked the characters. Sure, we didn't get nearly as much time establishing Daisy Ridley's Rey as we did with Luke in A New Hope, but it was more than I expected. After all, we live in a day and age where solid character development and good dialogue is unfairly written off as "the most boring-est parts" of a movie.

Attention spans aren't what they used to be. Jay Bauman of Red Letter Media tells a pretty sad story about a screening of Jurassic Park. During the show, he noticed that there were two 18-year-old girls on their phones the entire time. When it was over, one turned to the other and said "Well, that was the most boring movie ever!"

But then I think about how many people love talky, character-driven stuff like Breaking Bad, Mad Men, The Expanse and Game of Thrones. Clearly, people don't mind intricate plotting and decent character development. Which makes me wonder if it's a case of the tail wagging the dog: I.E. movie producers hire ADD hacks like J.J. Abrams because they think that the average movie-goer has the same power to focus as a squirrel. 

And then there's Rogue One. Whooo, boy, what can I say about that crushing bore? The first third is a meandering, intergalactic travelogue, the second third is a tangled mess of failed character development and senseless plot points and the final third is a bloated action sequence. The latter, BTW, might be thrilling at first, but it starts to feel increasingly vapid and boring when you realize that nothing that came before it makes a lick of sense.

I know that this is a really unpopular opinion, but I still don't like Rogue One. Beyond the aforementioned reasons, I also hate how drab and murky-looking the films is. It doesn't jibe visually with A New Hope at all. Add in a creepy-looking CGI Peter Cushing and Carrie Fisher, a lack of design innovation, needless Vader cameos and low-key stupid shit like a Star Destroyer suspended in a planetary atmosphere (a bigger universe-breaker than a Holdo maneuver, IMHO), I actually hate this movie a little bit more every time I see it.  

So, when I sat down to watch The Last Jedi, I was feeling pretty guarded. And even though it's the best Disney-stamped Star Wars entry to date, I still can't shake that sinking feeling that nothing is planned out and the creative team is hurtling off in a bunch of random directions.

BING! BING! BING! Give the man a prize! When The Rise of Skywalker was released two years after I wrote this, my suspicions were confirmed. And that's why it's so important to go back and re-evaluate my take on these first two movies. It's kinda hard to pass judgement on something when you only have access to two-thirds of the story.  

Not like there isn't any historic precedence for this. Nowadays, story arcs for books, television shows and even movies are meticulously pre-plotted out. However, if you know anything about the making of The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi you'll know that virtually nothing that ended up on-screen was planned out back in 1976. And, honestly, if the sterile, predictable safety net that passes for a plot in The Force Awakens gets irreversibly shredded, I won't shed a single tear.

I still agree with this. If the choice is seeing something new versus a sitting through a soft reboot, I'll always opt for the former. Usually the latter turns out to be a dull, predictable shadow of its original inspiration. 

For the first time since The Empire Strikes Back, I had no effin' clue what was going to happen in a Star Wars movie and that's just about the highest praise I can give to it. Conversely, a lot of people, particularly rabid fans, seem pissed off by what happens, and even more telling, what doesn't happen in this movie. Good. When movies cater solely to expectations and don't challenge people, that's when they cease to be interesting and become the cinematic equivalent of fast food. 

I still support this statement 100%. If you don't think I'm right, go watch The Rise of Skywalker. The script for that mess plays out like the accumulated blizzard of script notes from a Reddit post.

Oh, and for the record, I love the idea of expectations being subverted, but not if it's merely contradiction or the automatic nay-saying of whatever the other person said. Then it becomes the equivalent of a Monty Python skit.  

First off, the opening battle sequence is fantastic. Oscar Isaac's hot-shot pilot Poe Dameron is trying to take on the whole First Order fleet by himself. Of all the characters in this movie, it's his arc I like the best. Yes, that's right, a legitimate, bonafide, died-in-the-wool character arc. It's the sort of basic storytelling ingredient that's completely absent in the inexplicably-lauded Rogue One.

After going against the direct orders of General Leia Organa (elegantly realized by the late, great Carrie Fisher), Poe literally gets smacked down with a demotion. Eventually he starts to realize that  rash, emotional, gut decisions often results in more ruin than right. Needless to say, this is a particularly relevant sentiment as we move into 2018.

Now armed with 20/20 hindsight, Poe's "arc" is really problematic. First off, the "bombing run" scene isn't "fantastic", it's patently idiotic. Clearly, these ships are slow, ponderous and meant to attack stationary ground targets. They shouldn't even be in the Resistance Fleet, but Rian Johnson wanted his World War II / Dam Busters homage, so we'll let it ride.

In The Force Awakens, Poe is introduced as a perfect pilot and tactician. So, when Rian Johnson inherited this non-starter set-up, he did what any decent writer would do: find the flaws in his hero. So he takes the prior film's suggestion that Poe is an impulsive hot-shot and has him attack the dreadnought alone, which leads to the bomber fleet getting wiped out. It's a long, dumb walk to get there, but at least he's got something to work with now.    

Unfortunately, Johnson quickly muddies the waters. After Leia tells Poe that "not every problem can be solved by jumping in an X-Wing and blowing things up", the fleet is attacked again and she immediately ignores her own advice. 

What happens between him and Holdo makes this situation even worse. 

Poe eventually learns this lesson, even if the script has to do some pretty kooky contortions to get him there. His main foil, Laura Dern's Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo, is great and all, but her entire role should have been split between Leia and fan-favorite Admiral Ackbar. I think it would have been a lot more impactful if writer / director Rian Johnson used already-established characters instead of dragging new ones into the mix.

The Last Jedi is my favorite Disney sequel film. I know that ain't sayin' much, but do with that what you will.  

I like it mainly because it tries to do something different, as opposed to the paint-by-numbers bookends that Abrams crapped out. Honestly, what hurts The Last Jedi the most is Rian Johnson's galloping ego. Instead of focusing on the toys left for him, he casts them aside so he can make his own mark on the Star Wars saga, in the form of  Holdo, DJ and Rose. More on that rogues gallery a bit later.  

Given Leia's recent admonishment and their oil-meets-water chemistry, I suppose it makes sense that Holdo keeps her secret plans from Poe. Unfortunately, this drives him completely nuts with curiosity. Regardless, I love the fracture this creates in the Resistance leadership. It's a new dynamic which we haven't seen before and, like I said, if it ain't new, it ain't worth bothering. 

Honestly, I'm just making excuses for Johnson here. As I see it, there are two practical  reasons why Holdo doesn't keep Poe in the loop, both of which make zero sense from a plot perspective. They are:

1. It inspires and drives the Finn and Rose sub-plot.
2. It forwards Poe's "arc." 

Unfortunately, these are the audience take-aways:  

1. Just who is this bossy, bitchy purple-haired chick? Since we've already spent time with Poe, we know and trust him. After all, he helped destroy Starkiller Base in the first movie, so he's kind of a big reason why the Resistance still exists. We're never really on Holdo's side, and we actually want Poe to remain resolute. Yeah, his attack on the dreadnought was reckless, but he did it out of bravery. 
2. In order for Poe's "arc" story to work, Holdo must be right and our favorite hot-headed pilot must be wrong. Unfortunately, that's not the case. As a top-tier member of the Resistance, he's completely justified at being pissed off for being shut out of Holdo's orbit. 
3. But Holdo doesn't just shut Poe out, does she? She's snarky, evasive and condescending to him, I.E. a terrible leader. With so many women marginalized, patronized and flat-out dismissed in so many work environments, I can only assume that Johnson is making some sort of "space shoe on the other foot" observation. If that's the case, two wrongs don't make a right and we've got bigger fish to fry and we've got a star war to worry about here!  

Going back to Carrie Fisher for a moment: she's wonderful. It's a cruel twist of fate that took her from us so early, especially when you consider how hypothetically pivotal she was to the resolutions we'll hopefully get in Episode IX. Here she's elegant, sardonic, commanding and funny. I just wish the Force was a real thing and we could get Carrie back again. We all miss her terribly and the world is a darker place without her in it.

Holdo should never have been in this movie...it should have been Leia versus Poe the entire time. Poe does something hot-headed and impulsive, he fucks up, Leia has to teach him discipline and restraint, he applies this knowledge and, in the end, this helps him save the day. 

Keep in mind that "learning discipline and restraint" is a far cry from Rian Johnson's final message to Poe which seems to be "don't think independently, follow orders blindly and then hope for the best." This is downright contrary to the original message that kids picked up back in 1977.   

This leads me to Adam Driver's Kylo Ren. I've said this before but it bears repeating: if Disney is gonna force-feed (pun not intended) us a bunch of arguably-superfluous Star Wars movies, I'm really glad that he's a part of it. For far too long, the villains in Star Wars have been overtly fetishized. Back in the day, we recognized the stormtroopers, Darth Vader and Boba Fett as undeniably cool, but we also saw them as major assholes. Nowadays, the Dark Side is increasingly represented as a legitimate choice.

And that's what makes Kylo Ren such a wonderful character. I see him as a living, breathing parody of neck-bearded fanboys who orgasmed in their Underoos when Darth Vader made his "bad-ass" appearance in Rogue One. He shows us that the Dark Side isn't particularly rewarding or welcoming, it's more like a half-way house for sad, bitter, dorky outcasts who won't be happy until everyone else is equally miserable. Adam Driver does a great job oscillating back and forth between menacing, petulant and vulnerable.

Yup. I loves me some Kylo Ren and Rian Johnson did some genuinely interesting stuff with him here. 

Then there's Daisy Ridley, who continues to be inhumanly charming and charismatic as Rey. Unlike Poe, Rey doesn't really get a character arc and seems just as lost and confused at the end of the film as she was in the beginning. Sure, she learns that blind hero worship is bad and slavishly-adhering to the failed tenants of the past are a symptom of madness, but I'm not sure this qualifies as legitimate character growth.

Again, faced with the crushing bore of making Rey the offspring of Luke or Obi-Wan,  Rian opted out and made her a nobody. And honestly, his democratization of the Force was really interesting to me. Unfortunately, J.J. Abrams bombed back into town and dust-binned all of this with his cheap and obnoxious laser light show. 

Which is a real pity. At one point, Rey and Kylo share the callback to Empire where Vader invites a beaten Luke to join him, defeat Palpatine and rule the galaxy as father and son. Even though things do play out differently, I really wish Rian Johnson had doubled down on this departure. I think it would have been great if Rey actually joined Kylo and convinced him to stay his hand against the Resistance. The next movie would then be all about Rey trying to steer him back to the light and hand over the reigns of power.

I still love this idea and wish The Last Jedi ended with Rey taking Kylo's hand. It would have been bold, original, interesting and I would have legit cared about the final film. 

Some folks are also losing their shit over Rey's domestic origins, but I completely understand why Rian Johnson went this route. What else were you expecting? People with entirely too much time on their hands have spent the past two years speculating about her parentage ad nauseum, so wouldn't it have been boring to go down one of these obvious avenues? I'm delighted that Johnson willfully upset this OCD apple cart, democratizing the Force in the process. Hopefully J.J. Abrams wont retcon this in the cinematic equivalent of dueling banjos.

Hi-yo! I totally called it! 

Sadly, John Boyega's Finn continues to be a non-entity to me. Once again, we get absolutely no explanation as to why his First Order programming didn't take, why he switched allegiances on a dime and then proceeded to massacre his equally-deluded squad-mates without hesitation. I wish he'd been allowed to go AW.OL after Rey instead of being saddled with a wacky misadventure. We might have gotten some legit character development and maybe his story would have dove-tailed with the main plot a bit better.

This x 100. As I mentioned in my Force Awakens Redux review, Finn got shortchanged more than any other character. And John Boyega knows it. 

The Canto Bright scene is fine enough. In fact, I really appreciate the social commentary that writer Rian Johnson makes about war profiteering. Using Empire as a template, one might see the First Order's pursuit of the Resistance fleet as Vader's hunt for the Millennium Falcon. That would make Rey's storyline comparable to Luke's training on Dagobah. Unfortunately, that leaves "Finn and Rose go to Space Las Vegas" feeling decidedly superfluous. 

Correction: the Canto Bight scene isn't fine...it's a spectacular waste of time, money and effort. I basically boils down to another superfluous pleasure palace decreed by Rian "Kubla Khan" Johnson. 

One thing I do like about their mission is that, once again, things don't work out the way they (and we) expected. Such is life. Yes, their mission is kind of a bust but Finn and Rose manage to put a sizable space fly in the punch bowl of some interstellar one-percenters,  while giving the next generation some hope and heroism. I just wish this could have been done in a more economic fashion. 

Hey, look, I love it when a movie breaks away from conventions. I like it when unexpected  complications force a plan to be altered and our heroes are constantly walking a tightrope of disaster. But this whole sequence feels like a completely pointless diversion from Finn's main goal as it was established in The Force Awakens. As soon as he "came to", he should be left to find Rey in an effort to protect her at all costs.     

Perhaps the most unfortunate example of Finn's storyline getting short-shift is his truncated confrontation with Phasma. Honestly I have no clue why Gwendoline Christie took this role since all Phasma ever does is show up and get her shiny metal ass kicked. During their brief tete-a-tete, not only do we get zero insight into the origin of their mutual hatred, the goofy spectacle unfolding all around completely flushes any tension down the space-loo.

Even though Rian Johnson is David Lean compared to J.J. Abrams, the Finn / Rose / BB-8 escape scene feels shockingly fake and, as a result, completely devoid of any genuine tension. Phasma's fate was so boring, anti-climactic and pointless that I kinda hoped that she wasn't dead. By the time she failed to materialize in The Rise of Skywalker, I switched to feeling happy for Gwendoline for dodging another bullet.    

As for the dynamic between Finn and Rose, it's pleasant enough, but if it was done just to set up a love triangle and make some superfluous points about arms dealers, there were certainly easier and more relevant ways to accomplish this. Like Admiral Holdo, the things that Rose is tasked to do could have been given to a preexisting character. This would have kept the focus on our established heroes and not inflated the film's run time. 

Again, Rose is there simply because Rian Johnson wanted to put his own, personal stamp on the Star Wars saga. And while I have no issue with him doing that, these characters have to serve some sort of purpose. Otherwise, please concentrate on developing the characters you inherited.   

P.S. Kelly Marie Tran is an absolute delight and she didn't deserve all of the insane hate that asshole fans sent her way. She was legit happy to be in a Star Wars movie and you pricks tore her apart. When will you mouth-breathers realize that, nine times out of ten,  shitty characters begin and end with the writer and director?  

But, alas, I can only talk about the film that was made, not the speculative one. At the very least we're treated to a twitchy, hypnotic and unpredictable Benicio del Toro as DJ. Notwithstanding his Roger Rabbit-esque speech pattern, del Toro gets some choice lines which call into question the very nature of Star Wars. In much the same way that Randall in Clerks ponders the fate of innocent contractors on the second Death Star, del Toro makes us wonder where all of this war materiel is coming from and how fuzzy the line is between "good guys" and "bad guys."

D.J. is fine, but you already had a shady, fringe character in the form of Maz Kanata. Unfortunately, here she's relegated to a dumb, pointless cameo. Which makes you wonder: is this another example of Baby Rian refusing to play with the older toys he inherited from his big brother J.J.?  

Awrite, let's talk about Monsieur Skywalker. First off, I love his reaction to the lightsaber. Folks have to understand that we haven't seen Luke in thirty years, so naturally he isn't the same resolved, idealistic person we see at the end of ROTJ. He's come to the logical conclusion that the Jedi are nothing but an abject failure, so he's sequestered himself away to atone for his past deeds, reflect on his hubris and make sure that he never makes the same mistakes again. 

Again, what do you do if you're Rian Johnson here? Basically he's taken on the unenviable task of trying to explain why Luke Skywalker, one of the most beloved and resolute heroes in modern fiction, abandoned his family and friends and went into hiding. Rian can't even spend very much run time to do this 'cuz he has to deal with the Abrams crew and all of his stupid new characters. 

If Luke experienced something so traumatic that he had a mental breakdown, that might make sense. I'm willing to buy that Snoke stoked (snoked?) the fire of the Dark Side in Ben, and when the boy snapped, Luke's perceived failure as a Jedi Master really fucked him up. But, in the same way it's monumentally stupid for Padme to "lose the will to live" after giving birth to twins, it's also fundamentally idiotic that Luke didn't to try to  make things right by Leia and Han. 

That's why everyone hates Luke's depiction in The Last Jedi. The most skilled writer in the world couldn't square those edges over the course of a dedicated trilogy, let alone a few scattered flashbacks in a single film.     

That's all well and good, but I can't quite reconcile his stubborn refusal to leave the island and help. He's just been told that his best buddy is dead and his sister is on the verge of capture or annihilation. Upon hearing that, I don't think even bitter, jaded, crusty ol' Luke would continue to milk sea cows and go spear fishing. My main reason for believing this is that he left a map to his location lying around.

Precisely. With Leia and Han left heartbroken, I Luke that would willingly die in the attempt to get Ben back from Snoke.  

So, honestly, if Star Wars fans are gonna hate on anyone, hate on J.J. Abrams. He's the moron who crammed Luke into one of his stupid mystery boxes and neglected to punch any airholes for him.   

Otherwise I really like what they did with him. Mark Hamill is at the height of his thespic powers and he's riveting whenever he's on screen. Despite my own doubts, Hamill's conviction sold me on Luke's resolve, regret and trepidation. The way he factors into the film's climax is surprising, satisfying and, most importantly, it doesn't undermine everything that came before it. In the end, Luke learns that buying into your own hype can be dangerous, but legends are instrumental in sparking a revolution.

Despite famously telling Rian Johnson that he "fundamentally disagrees" with Rian's "concept of Luke and how you use him, Mark still gave it his all. Bless his heart. It's a testament to his ample skills that he managed to sell Luke's uncharacteristic behavior as well as he did.

This alone is a minor miracle since The Last Jedi script seems bound and determined to put Rey on a pedestal while shoving Luke into a gutter. Witness:

• She respectfully tries to give Anakin's recovered lightsaber back to Luke, who  immediate hucks it away like she just handed him a religious tract.
• Rey tells Luke about Han's death and his reaction is best described as "nonplussed." 
• During a lesson, Luke tells Rey that the Force is "not about lifting rocks." But guess how the movie ends? 
• “You think what? I’m gonna walk out with a laser sword and stare down the whole First Order?” Well, in the end, he does precisely that.
• When they eventually have a physical confrontation, Rey nearly puts the legendary Luke on his ass.  
• Sure he delays the First Order invasion, but when Luke schools Kylo in the "projection duel" it seems to have zero impact on the fallen pupil's behavior. 

A part of me thinks that a film-maker has to be a bit nuts in order to tackle a Star Wars movie. You know, the same level of narcissism needed to to be the President of the United States. Like J.J., I think Rian really wanted to foist Rey up as a great new, modern, diverse character...but he felt compelled to make the older guard look weak and diminished in the process.  

So, I guess all that's left now is address the nitpick-y crap that people are losing their collective marbles over. So let's knock these off as quickly as possible:

• How do the Resistance bombs drop on the dreadnought? Ummm...because there's gravity in the bomber and the momentum carries them through space? Don't buy that? Then stick around and I'll trot out at least a half dozen more reasons as to why you really need to get a life. I think this scene's biggest issue isn't the bombs but the bombers. There's no reason for the Resistance to own these ships, let alone deploy them against an enemy dreadnought. 
• The humor. Actually I kinda liked the humor for the most part. Poe is this trilogy's Han Solo so why wouldn't he act like a disrespectful twat to Hux? Rey inadvertently wrecking the caretaker's wheelbarrow also really cracked me up. In hindsight, Poe's "yo momma" joke only serves to devalue Hux and the First Order as credible threats. At no point in the trilogy do the villains ever seem particularly competent or effective. Hell, most of the time they don't even seem particularly villainous. 
• Yoda. Some folks are wondering why Yoda is acting like his goofy, pre-reveal self in Empire. Well, what's wrong with that? Clearly that's a part of his persona, so why not use it to make a point with Luke? Honestly people, pick and choose your damn battles. Agree. The point is moot. 
• "Space Flight" Leia. Look, I love the fact that my girl finally gets a chance to manifest the Force, I just would have chosen to do it a bit differently. Perhaps when the First Order hit the bridge, she could have used her powers to "act on instinct" and prevent explosive decompression. The way it happens in the film it's clearly designed to generate some cheap tension and put her out of commission for a bit.  I still despise this scene, but mainly because it sidelines Carrie Fisher in lieu of moving Holdo to the forefront. Basically it happens to further Rian Johnson's idiotic "keep away" mystery. 
• Porgs. They're cute and not nearly as annoying as Ewoks. I'm amused by their sense of entitlement and get a kick outta that one little feller stamping on the discarded lightsaber. Two flightless wings up for these imminently-marketable, but still harmless, l'il fuckers. Bonus points: Chewie's Galactic Test Kitchen proves that they plump up nicely when you cook 'em! Related.
  

Last but not least, the people who are livid over The Last Jedi really need to do some soul searching. First off, they need to re-watch the prequels, which, in my opinion, barely qualify as a series of moving images. Moreover, they need to ask themselves what they expect to see in these new Star Wars films...and then promptly chuck it all into the trash compactor.

Did they really want to see Snoke as Palpatine 2.0? Did they really want Rey to be related to Han or Luke or Obi-Wan or Lando? Did they really want to see Kylo and Luke fight to the death? C'mon, people! We've seen all of that done so well before that we keep loitering around like lost dogs sniffing around for table scraps. 

I think it goes without saying, but I would never have written this paragraph if I thought there was the remotest chance of Abrams bringing Palpatine back in The Rise of Skywalker. 

In light of what we got, even my half-baked ideas sound better. My concept would have explained Rey's inordinate power, retained her humble origins, kept the Emperor dead, justified Luke's decision to exile, had Kylo and Snoke preserved as the main villains and followed through on Maz's "story for another time." 

In my sequel trilogy, we'd see that Luke's lightsaber was recovered by the Imperials on Bespin and ends up with the First Order after the fall of Palpatine. With Luke's hand still gripping the weapon, the villains attempt to clone him. Thanks to Snoke's dark influence, one candidate from this experiment lives. 

Maz Kanata hears about this through her connections and, realizing that no good can come of it, co-ordinates a raiding party which recovers the clone child and the weapon. Fearing for Rey's safety, Maz entrusts the baby to adoptive parents on Jakku who, unfortunately, turn out to be deadbeats. 

Over the intervening years, the First Order continues to surge, prompting the New Republic to develop a super-weapon designed to annihilate their fleet. Leia is opposed to the concept and she's soundly supported by Han and Luke, which would give us a badly-needed scene of all three of them together. During this time we also see Luke teaching at his Jedi Academy, trying to deal with Ben Solo, Leia and Han's headstrong son. 

At one point, Luke is overcome by the Dark Side of the Force. Convinced that Ben is on the verge of doing something awful, he confronts the young man, fully intent on killing him. Ben defends himself, and a vicious battle ensues at the school, with Ben and his allies killing Luke's loyal students and leaving the Jedi Master for dead.

It's revealed that, in addition to Snoke luring Ben to the Dark Side, he's also responsible for Luke's murderous impulses. Concerned that he might harm someone else, Luke goes into self-exile. He retreats to the first Jedi Temple to seek solace and answers, while Ben, now renamed Kylo Ren, leads a daring First Order attack on the super-weapon. Instead of destroying it, they capture it to use against the New Republic fleet, destroying some key planets in the process.

After Poe is captured while seeking information about Snoke, he's busted out by a rogue stormtrooper named Finn and they encounter Rey on Jakku. Han rushes to save them and eventually the Force leads Rey back to Maz and the Skywalker lightsaber. With that, the stage is set for a decent conclusion.  

Hey, I know it's not perfect, but I'm willing to wager that I just put more thought, effort, care and insight into this story than J.J. Abrams ever did.    

One last point before I drop the saber hilt and peace out. I was there in 1980 when The Empire Strikes Back broke my fragile eggshell mind. Ten year old me came out of that first screening legitimately pissed off. How dare they take my fictional friends, who's G-rated adventures I'd been continuing via action figures over the past three years, and drag them through a black hole of misery? 

Well, it taught me a valuable lesson that I'll paraphrase from The Rolling Stones: "you don't always get what you want but you might just get what you need." And like it or not, this post-modern Star Wars film is precisely what we need. Otherwise, the entire saga is in danger of become 

Given my time back, I'd definitely replace "like it or not, this post-modern Star Wars film is precisely what we need" with "we really need a post-modern Star Wars film to give us what we need."  

'Cuz, as it turned out, "an irrelevant and repetitive passion play" is just about as apt a description for The Rise of Skywalker as I can think of.  

Tilt: down.