Star
Wars: The Force Awakens
(2015)
(SPOILERS) Is Star Wars: The Force Awakens the Star Wars movie devotees of the Original Trilogy grail have been
awaiting for more than 30 years? Obviously not, or it would have Episode VII in the title. There has been
much talk of fan service in respect of the picture (not least from George
Lucas), and the accusation at least partly stands, although the notion of “fan
service” and what fans actually want
tend to be two entirely different things (usually symptomatic of giving
professional fans the keys to a kingdom, here JJ Abrams, on television Steven
Moffat).
On first viewing at least, this latest chapter
hews closer to the Star Wars movie
I’ve been hoping for since The Empire
Strikes Back, its abundant flaws admitted, because it’s the first one since
to attend to its characters across the board. I may not have always been
invested in the plot of The Force Awakens,
but I was invested in the new inhabitants of George Lucas’ galaxy. That’s no
mean feat and one those operating entirely from the level of fan service would,
if not forsaking, have likely paid only lip service.
Abrams has been here before with a
franchise, of course. Star Trek 2009
also manufactured vital and compelling characters in the face of a
disappointing plot. It’s difficult to pick the winner of the newbies between
Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren and John Boyega’s Finn, but they edge ahead of Daisy
Ridley’s Rey and Oscar Isaac’s Poe Dameron by offering something a little less
expected.
And that’s not to ignore BB-8, a post-R2
droid who achieves an adorable lovability his forbear could never quite muster,
and without being irritably cute or whacky (just cute and whacky). It’s a fine
line, but its entirely understandable that all those remote-controlled versions
are flying off shelves this Christmas; it’s rare these days to make a new piece
of character design work so perfectly, particularly in a movie so scrupulously
referencing the series’ history at every turn.
Private Godfrey’s great-grandniece more
than delivers the necessaries to attract a female following to the franchise
(or, to note the accusations concerning which Abrams inadvertently dug a hole for
himself, a greater female following).
As you’d expect from the director, he assembles a group of co-stars who display
keen chemistry (even Ford, despite his regular uptake of snoozy drops, or other
inducements to a soporific state), but it’s for Ridley to assume the mantle of
new series lead.
Hampering her somewhat are Rey’s sometimes crudely
etched in background notes, or rather not etched in; her background is a mystery
box, to be continued; with two character mysteries presented to us (her and
Finn, although it’s debatable how important the latter’s roots will be;
hopefully not so much, so he’s allowed to be just another character, rather
than a fated-to-be-special one) it begins to feel like a crutch, and the rate
at which Rey awakens is effectively a Speed Learn version of Jedi training.
While it’s clearly intended that she has markedly greater aptitude for the
Force than her peers (and doubtless more midichlorians than Master Yoda), one
is left feeling that Abrams (and co-writer Lawrence Kasdan) has gone for the
bigger-faster-more approach at the expense of the slow, rewarding build, most
typified by the hologram showing how much vaster than a Death Star Starkiller base
is (and yet, only very vaguely more difficult to destroy).
There’s an element of narrative balance to
Rey’s powers, at least, a mirroring of
unmarshalled Force power in Rey and Ren, and it isn’t as if either (Supreme
Leader Snoke states Ren is ready to complete his training only after killing
his father) is intended to be in control, hence their choppy, inelegant
rage-fuelled duel (one nice touch is that, when Ren calls attention to Rey’s
potential for joining him, she immediately finds her still point as a counter; Return of the Jedi rather stumbled with
the Emperor clumsily alerting Luke to giving into his hate, and so having the
opposite intended effect, and Abrams and Kasdan seem to be recognising the
tactic as a counter-productive measure).
Rey is able to resist Ren probing her mind
(Kylo may not have completed his training, but if his idol and grand pappy
could have, he would surely have elicited the location of the rebel base from
Leia in the same way), and quickly moves on to messing with stormtroopers’
freewill (the asides granted stormtroopers here are welcome, an effective
response to the CGI clones of the prequels, and consistent with making one of
their number central to the plot). But have Kasdan and Abrams made Rey a bit
too damn perfect? She’s an engineering maestro (to Han’s vague annoyance) and a
shit-hot pilot (Poe Dameron will have to content himself with being only the
second best in the Resistance now), and it seems the only peg of future character
development we can hang on her is her mysterious past. Which is a bit thin.
We’ll have to see what Rian Johnson can come up with.
In contrast, Kylo Ren’s shambolic yearning
for darkness has, as many have noted, made him something of an ultimate fanboy,
but one with motivation. Unlike Jurassic
World, where the franchise referencing was a weak meta point, with Ren it
is valid and verisimilitudinous. He studies the iconography at the expense of
the core ethos, unable to summon the unadulterated Dark Side and worshipping at
a shrine of someone he presumably must know turned back to the light at the
end. He has amazing abilities (including stopping laser bolts mid-sentence) but
is plagued by terrible temper tantrums (again, very amusing to see the
stormtroopers self-preserving responses; best not to go in there when the boss
is having one of his mood swings).
As with Bond,
when the villain has issues, the content itself tends to become incrementally
richer for all concerned; the scope is broader, and the possibilities more
extensive. If you don’t care about Vader’s interior life, there’s a dimension
of the picture left unexplored, and, aside from the whining Anakin, it’s only
really Return of the Jedi that
consistently presented this (Palpatine’s deviousness may have been rewarding,
but he was never really up against it). Ren has an inferiority complex, resentful
that General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson) has priority over him; it’s an overt echo
of Tarkin and Vader in A New Hope, ‘youthed-up”
but effective thanks to the manner in which this is foregrounded. Hux is self-satisfied
and enjoys point scoring against Ren for Snoke’s trust, while Ren thinks it’s
so unfair that he doesn’t have the same completely (just as he is unable to
inhabit the Dark Side completely).
Ren’s interior conflict leads to repeated
mistakes, ones that work for the narrative (rather than the many elsewhere that
don’t); he sees no reason to find BB-8 any longer because he is in no doubt he
can extract the information on Luke’s whereabouts from Rey. After rising to the
challenge of killing his father, he drops his guard, because it affects him
despite his pronunciations, which means Chewie can get a crossbow bolt on
target. Which means, in the final fight, despite his superior skills, he is
disadvantaged through injury, beating on his wound to steel himself.
While the use and discovery of the Force is
central to the movie, though, and even has former non-believer Han extolling
its truths, Abrams treats it in a disappointingly perfunctory manner. It’s the
area where this new trilogy opener most short changes the original trilogy,
rather than the frequently clumsy plotting. There’s no room for the awe and
mystery of the Force here; the Force is merely currency to sell a franchise.
It’s as if, despite being a fan, Abrams can’t bring himself to inhabit the
mind-set of an all-powerful force controlling everything. The physicality of
the Star Wars universe has returned,
complete with primary, grounded locations (desert, jungle, snowy planets), but
missing is the ability to let this galaxy breathe, to instil it with wonder
(there are amazing shots, but they don’t linger).
In a way this is perhaps surprising, since Lost was all about a seductive sense of mystery,
and Alias fuelled much of its run on
the same principles, although Abrams’ movie choices have, despite the ever-present
mystery box, been fairly linear affairs. It rather emphasises that the box
itself is a cynical, mechanical tool. We have characters talking earnestly about
the Force (Lupita Nyong’o’s Maz Kanata, a bar tender with the philosophy of a
Yoda), and visions of fates befallen at the lightsabers of the Knights of Ren,
but Abrams treats this awakening as something of a blunt instrument; there’s no
grace or serenity.
Indeed, as far as they extend beyond the
characters themselves, the moments that are narrative call backs to the
Original Trilogy, be they visions, or teachings, or the death of the
father/mentor, lack the resonance required for true cinematic mythmaking. Shattering
events happen, and there’s an emotional rollercoaster, but the spiritual trappings
are left untapped. This is nowhere truer than in John Williams’ score; where
formerly he infused the life blood of the franchise, even in the prequels, with
vital and compelling themes, here the octogenarian is apparently entirely
uninspired, despite visuals and character cues that deserve investment on a
level the prequels never warranted. The score for The Force Awakens is, simply, unmemorable, and it would have been
wiser to bring on Michael Giacchino outright (assuming he gets the gig for Episode VIII).
It’s probably no coincidence that the
character of Finn succeeds most on his own terms; funny, brash, fearful, regretful
and very human, the decision to delve into a cinematically unexplored aspect of
the saga – that of stormtroopers – bears fruit in a manner emphasising that this
is what they should be doing more concertedly, rather than raking over coals.
Lucas managed to pay the ethical aspect of millions of clone troopers scant
regard in the prequels, despite their being crucial to the plot. Here, it might
have been more satisfying if Finn’s conditioning didn’t go awry right from the
moment he enters combat (so he isn’t really complicit).
But that aside, his imperfect hero, and
Boyega’s playing of the humour in the character, is immensely engaging, be it Finn’s
unnecessary attempts to save the damsel in distress or digging himself a hole
in terms of his background and motives. Or calling Han “Solo” all the time. I
liked that Finn makes the choice to save Rey at the expense of being honest at
about his knowledge of Starkiller Base, thus putting the entire Resistance in
jeopardy (it’s one of the many weak contrivances that he pretty much instantly
extricates himself from this dilemma, however), and his have-a-go attitude, be
it using a lightsaber, unskilled against a stormtrooper with a charge stick or,
even more so, up against Ren.
It was assumed Poe would be more the Han
character of the new trilogy but, in terms of wild cards, of a normal, flawed
guy in a world populated by very special people, Finn better fits the bill. I
just hope this continues, and that his true identity doesn’t turn out to be
important to the history of the saga we know (so not Lando Calrissian’s son,
thank you very much; but bring back Billy Dee Williams, by all means). And
also, Finn’s interaction with Poe is the best thing about that character.
Yes, Poe. It’s a good thing they have
someone of Oscar Isaac’s calibre to play Poe Dameron (still a terrible name,
they might as well have called him Pob) as he’s so thoroughly a good egg, a
great pilot, a noble hero, always has a nice word to say to a BB-8, that he
kind of makes himself redundant. I’m not sure how they’re going to make more of
him going forward, as whatever problems Rey may have in terms of being provisioned
with an arc, Poe has in abundance. At the moment, he’s glowingly non-descript,
like Wedge Antilles, but with more lines.
Of the First Order types besides Ren, I’ve
mentioned Gleason, and I found his performance almost as enjoyable as Driver’s.
The First Order might be nothing very interesting, but Gleason gives Hux a
certain smirking self-regard that makes prospect of his returun in Episode VIII especially appealing. And
it might just be a consequence of the chosen accent, but I liked the irony of
his tones sounding rather Churchillian in an otherwise Hitler-esque speech to
the First Order (that sees Abrams picking up the Leni Reifenstahl motif from A New Hope).
Captain Phasma, though. Yeah, the cossie’s
cool, but everything else, even down to Gwendoline Christie’s insufficiently
modified voice, is a resounding disappointment. About the only point of
comparison with Boba Fett is that both derive from designs for their trilogy’s
(main) villain. Perhaps the weakest of all the plot developments in the picture
(and there are a great many weak ones) is that Phasma readily complies with the
instruction to drop the shields on Starkiller Base. What kind of stormtrooper is she? She should
be drummed out of the First Order at once.
As for Snoke, apart from assuming, until
his hologram was switched off, that he was about 30-foot high, there’s very
little to say about him. Is he interesting as a piece of CGI, as a new face of
the Dark Side, or even as name? Not really, although his name would be more
fitting for Garindan spy from A New Hope.
This is where aping things like the master and apprentice leads to banal
repetition, as we’ve had this with the Emperor, and there’s nothing thus far to
make Snoke other than your standard-issue ringmaster baddie.
Obviously the main focus of attention among
the Original Trilogy old-timers has been the return of Han Solo (and the
peculiar absence of Luke Skywalker from promotion materials), so imagine my
surprise that the best showing for any of the old characters is easily
Chewbacca. More than that, it’s probably Chewie’s best showing in any of the
movies. He gets wounded (and tells Harriet Walter all about it), shoots Ren,
sets off the charges on Starkiller Base, rescues Rey and Finn. I was never
really that fussed by the walking carpet before, but Abrams has succeeded in
rejuvenating more than his nice shiny coat (Pedigree Chum aided, no doubt).
Quite rightly, given their over-exposure
and indulgence in the prequels, C3P0 and R2-D2 are side-lined, the latter as a
rather convenient plot point (his galvanising into action appears predicated on
the arrival of Rey, which suggests she’s Luke’s daughter, which makes there one
too many special Skywalkers in the universe that have absconded from the nest,
at least unless Johnson handles the situation with remarkable care and flair).
Luke, of course, doesn’t even get to speak, standing around on an Irish island
while all around him the galaxy goes to pot. Hamill’s is the most interesting
of the original characters though, so it’s both a frustration and impetus to
get to the sequel.
Leia? One can only wonder why Luke didn’t
teach her the ways of the Force as Yoda suggested. It makes sense that she and
Han would split, though, even without the valid reasons set out in the
storyline. Carrie Fisher’s okay, but nothing more. There’s no great surge of
feeling to the reunion between her and Han, but that’s equally down to Ford.
Who is intermittently fine, but this isn’t
the redressing the balance of Han Solo that would lay to rest his mis- (or lack
thereof) use in Return of the Jedi.
Ford gets his way finally, killing off his second-best loved character, and he’s
awake at least (until Han isn’t), but he still seems like an old man stumbling
around when he’s shooting people. Which he is, of course. He’s at his best when
interacting with the younger cast (particularly Ridley and Boyega), but the big
meeting with the chip off the old block is a bit of shrug really, telegraphed
as an Obi-Wan-Vader moment but lacking the same wallop.
Maybe it’s that we only really believe Han
and Ben are father and son because we’re told it’s so, whereas Guinness and
Jones convince you undeniably that their characters were master and pupil. It’s
a more difficult bridge to build anyway, though, even if Ford was operating at
full powers; Han isn’t the character to suddenly flip into meaningful discourse
with a son, and, while the actually details of the scene engage (Ren/Ben
requesting his father to help him, but that requesting being the death of Han),
the emotional core is absent.
After his turn in Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, this is pretty much the Ford performance
I was expecting, to be honest, so I wasn’t disappointed per se. It does mean
his Blade Runner 2 return as Rick
Deckard will be at about the same level as the original, so there is an upside to all this. One thing I
wasn’t keen on was handing Han cheap gags, like never having used Chewie’s
crossbow before (or call backs concerning trash compactors). It’s too
self-conscious, and no more fitting here than if, in The Empire Strikes Back, he had observed “These lightsabers are
really cool” and summarily went off with Luke’s.
But the main sticking point in The Force Awakens is the degree of
contrivance and coincidence required to get this plot in motion, even in a galaxy
with the Force binding everything together; so much so, characters are required
to call attention to the sheer unlikelihood, presumably because the writers
think that makes it more palatable. Rey is hiding out on a desert planet (and
obviously related in some way to someone important in the mythos),
coincidentally living in the vicinity of the Falcon, and coincidentally she
just happens to bump into BB-8 who is looking for Luke Skywalker, and then
coincidentally bumps into Finn (at least in A
New Hope they arrived where they did because Ben himself was being looked
for). Han is coincidentally searching for the long-missing Falcon and happens
to be doing so just at the moment it lifts off. Luke’s lightsaber just happens
to be residing in a box on the rounds he is doing (and what’s the story there;
who picked it up from Cloud City?)
The cumulative effect, along with another big
planet-destroying weapon, is a little on the patience-testing side. Without the
character work to support it, it would be a bust, frankly (whereas, in the main,
the reverse was true of the prequels; they had solid plots – whether you
appreciated them or not – but failed miserably with character). There was also
surely more than enough material to play with here without the Starkiller Base,
and excising it would have enabled room to breathe and get one’s bearings (and a
sense of atmosphere). It’s quite possible the big fearsome weapon was a mandate
enforced on Abrams and Kasdan, but the final attack itself, including Poe, is
as redundant as the one in Return of the
Jedi; as in Jedi, and The Phantom Menace, other finale threads
are required to do the heavy lifting.
The stir-and-repeat of Starkiller Base extends
to the reformed ham of the First Order, and the New Republic, and the
Resistance. It’s very so-so, same again, without furnishing us with any clear
understanding of the circumstances. There’s a whole New Republic (I didn’t even
realise the Senate Home world gets destroyed) but the will and means to combat
the First Order effectively escapes it? So to counteract the slight-versus-might
(the First Order being very much junior in scale to the Empire), the Resistance
needs to be a vulnerable offshoot of the New Republic. The construction is
rather unfocussed and lopsided, smacking of lacking the will to come up with
anything better because, well, it’s the characters that are important.
I don’t mind most of the visual and character
shout-outs, be it Admiral Ackbar or Nien Nunb, and I actually very much do like the return of the used future with
the partially-forgotten Empire’s derelict spaceships littering the landscape.
Some of the action/effects conceits Abrams comes up with are ingenious and have
just the desired effect (the Falcon needing to be in just the right position
for Finn’s locked guns to destroy the TIE Fighter), but others smack of the
kind of sci-fi silliness Abrams inflicted on the transporters in Star Trek (Han’s hyperspace special jumps
from any place, anywhere), “Wouldn’t it be cool if?” fan spit-balling that serves
to unravel the overall tapestry.
And, while the opening scroll emphasises the
importance of Luke in defeating the First Order, it ultimately proves not to be
the case. Which rather emphasises his status as a MacGuffin, since they instead
needed (Luke’s daughter) to get the Resistance to a place where they don’t need
Luke. While The Force Awakens certainly
commits fan service a tad too much, it also shows commendable restraint and
shrewdness at points; keeping Luke boxed-up until the last two minutes is something
surely no one else would have had the self-control for; Ren’s dad isn’t a
Luke-Vader reveal, it’s a matter-of-fact beat in a discussion between Snokey
and his bandit apprentice; the suggestiveness of the embrace between Leia and
Rey, without committing to why, that perhaps they share a familial bond
(although, against this, Rey is early told she must choose between Luke and her
family, so we’ll see). And why was Max von Sydow in the thing for all of two
minutes? I have absolutely no idea. I’d like to think his importance at the
start is significant as Luke’s at the end, but I didn’t really get that impression.
Star
Wars: The Force Awakens is some way from being the
bright new dawn of the franchise, but it does serve to clear the decks for a
new cast of characters, all of them with potential (well, we’ll see about Poe).
And it’s never less than invigoratingly directed by Abrams, whose compositions
are exactly what you’d hope for from a continuation of the Original Trilogy. What
Episode VIII really needs though (and
then Colin Trevorrow’s IX, but let’s
not dwell on that just now) is something as fresh in terms of plotting as the characters
Abrams and Kasdan have devised. It isn’t immediately obvious how Rian Johnson
will do that, but as of now he’s the saga’s new hope.
