*SPOILERS*
In 2015, I developed an almost unhealthy obsession with Star Wars: The Force Awakens. I spent hours searching through Reddit, hoping to uncover every single detail I could find about J.J. Abrams' seventh chapter in the Star Wars saga. I exploded with excitement when individual stills from the film hit the web, and for months I was determined to find out exactly when the hotly anticipated trailer would be released. One day, I even discovered a leaked synopsis of the film, which unfortunately turned out to be nearly 100% accurate. As a Star Wars fan since birth, this seemed like an inevitable response in a way, the natural reaction to a fresh installment in the series. But my feverish hype for The Force Awakens was something else entirely- this was the most excited I had ever been for a movie. While personal extenuating circumstances caused the premiere of Abrams' film to be defined more by tragedy than elation, I think it's safe to say that the release of the actual movie was practically an afterthought. I loved what Abrams did with the franchise, but the months of uncontrollable expectations really became part of the fun for me.
My experience with Rian Johnson's Star Wars: The Last Jedi has been the exact opposite of my journey with The Force Awakens. Sure, I was thrilled when the trailers for the film debuted online, and I scooped out my tickets at the earliest possible opportunity. But over the last year, The Last Jedi has barely been a blip on my mind. I made plans with my best friend to see it as soon as possible, and then I just found myself busy with other things. Since hype is such a massive part of the Star Wars experience, I kept wondering what was wrong with me. Why wasn't I more excited? The buzz has been terrific for months! I was waiting for that moment where every fiber of my being would be utterly captivated by Star Wars anticipation, and it just never happened.
This was a blessing in disguise. I knew almost nothing going in, and after my disappointment with Rogue One helped to temper my expectations, I was able to completely give myself over to The Last Jedi. From start to finish, I was immersed in the world that Rian Johnson had brought to life on screen, a world that felt familiar, fresh, and entirely wonderful. I was blown away by what is unquestionably the best Star Wars movie in decades. This is the one we've been waiting for. When The Force Awakens premiered, many complained about its structural similarity to A New Hope, and I noted that it was more than okay as long as the sequels charted their own path. With The Last Jedi, Johnson has done that and then some. He has made a film that combines the wistful nostalgia of the seventh chapter with the gritty war intensity of Rogue One, taking our new heroes in bold directions and reuniting us with old friends, sometimes in unexpected ways. The result is nothing short of spectacular, a film that speaks to this cultural moment while simultaneously acknowledging the iconic mythos of this franchise. It's a blissful, astonishing slice of pop brilliance.
After introducing a new generation of heroes in The Force Awakens, the Star Wars saga picks up right where it left off. Even after the destruction of Starkiller Base, the Resistance is still at a massive disadvantage against the First Order, the military regime built by General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson) and Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) from the ashes of the Empire. As the film begins, the First Order is chasing the last of the Resistance through the galaxy, taking out their base and preparing to exterminate hope once and for all. To save the day and strike a blow against the Order, Commander Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) orchestrates a stunning assault that ultimately comes at a great cost. Meanwhile, on the remote world of Ahch-To, Rey (Daisy Ridley) prepares to reunite with Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), the last of the Jedi order, in the hopes that he'll return to help the Resistance.
But Luke isn't interested in training another Jedi, still reeling after the failed training of Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), the emotionally tortured son of the late Han Solo and General Leia (Carrie Fisher). While Rey pleads her case, the Resistance is caught in a new predicament after their narrow escape- the First Order can now track them through hyperspace. The subsequent assault puts Leia in the medical bay, leaving Vice Admiral Holdo (Laura Dern) in charge of the survival of the Resistance. Poe, unsatisfied by the Admiral's course of action, recruits the recently awoken Finn (John Boyega) and mechanic Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran) to infiltrate a Star Destroyer and disengage their tracking mechanism. To do this, Maz Kanata (Lupita Nyong'o) informs them that they'll need the help of a master codebreaker on Canto Bight, a casino city populated by some of the most vile individuals in the galaxy. And while all of this is going on, a newfound connection emerges between Rey and Kylo Ren, a bond that could tip the scales of balance in the galaxy.
How does one go about reviewing a Star Wars movie that they loved? Even after seeing The Last Jedi three times, I have yet to find the answer to this question. I managed to pull it off with The Force Awakens, but this time, it just feels different. The Star Wars films have transcended their roots as "just movies" to become something else entirely, a franchise that means a whole lot to a large chunk of people around the world. It's easy to pick apart these movies when you're relatively unamused, when you don't find yourself along for the ride. For example, it isn't difficult for me to bash the one-dimensional characters of Rogue One, or the cringe-worthy dialogue and excessive CGI of the prequels. That's a simple task. But when one of these movies really works for me (and I mean really works), it's simply impossible to convey everything that I felt while sitting in that theater. It can't be quantified, it can't be compared, it can't be described- it is a pure experience that is downright magical.
Over the last week, I've had plenty of conversations with people who either disliked or outright hated The Last Jedi. And I get a lot of the complaints. I really do. The stories don't always go where you want them to go, there are some plot holes that are noticeable, and some odd occurrences that stand as risky moves in the Star Wars universe. And even though I'm able to come up with a logical rebuttal to all of the flaws, I keep reverting to something intangible. When it comes to Star Wars movies, it isn't so much about how objectively "good" they are. They're all cheesy sci-fi movies with heroes and villains we've seen before and familiar narrative structures as old as time itself. Even the original trilogy features some of that trademark George Lucas dialogue. No, it's all about how they make you feel, how the archetypes play with your emotions to achieve some kind of effect. And watching The Last Jedi, I felt like I was on cloud nine. The experience overwhelmed me, and then it touched me in a very profound way.
The Star Wars franchise has been trying to find its footing in the aftermath of the prequel trilogy. After a series of movies in which George Lucas boldly took on new challenges and explored radical ideas, J.J. Abrams delivered the cinematic equivalent of comfort food with The Force Awakens. And it was good- it was what we needed at the time. After the Plinkett reviews and the backlash and the changes in digital cinema, Abrams answered every complaint about the prequels and delivered a cast of new characters that we've already come to love. Make no mistake- The Last Jedi is not nearly as good without the foundation set by Abrams in the seventh installment. Many fans are already using one film to bash the other, and that need not be the case. They have a symbiotic relationship, and both are excellent Star Wars films on their own merits. But I love The Last Jedi so much because it feels like the franchise has finally figured out what it wants to be in the modern era. Rian Johnson's film is deeply nostalgic and reverent, but it also realizes that keeping it fresh is the only way these movies can continue to thrive in engaging ways. And while he's aware that the quirky creatures and unique visuals became the subject of fan vitriol in the era of the prequels, he knows that imagination is part of what makes Star Wars so great in the first place.
After seeing The Last Jedi for the first time, I thought to myself "This is a Star Wars movie that I believed could only exist in my dreams." That's a strange thought to have, especially considering the fact that the movie deliberately and intentionally subverts expectations at every turn. You think Snoke is the arch-villain of this new trilogy? Nope, he's just a red herring who gets sliced in half by Kylo Ren. Convinced that Rey is destined to be part of the Skywalker lineage? In reality, she's the daughter of drunken junkyard traders, someone who doesn't "belong in this story," to use the words of Kylo. Are you adamant that Luke tried his hardest to train Ben Solo, only to be betrayed by his Padawan? Unfortunately, it was Luke who failed Kylo, and not the other way around. And of course, any Star Wars fan knows the nature of redemption in the universe, and has likely convinced themselves that Kylo Ren will turn good. Not a chance- he just wants to burn down the galaxy and create something new. Some people hate these twists, and understandably so. Everything that you think will happen is thrown to the wayside in this film. And for me, that was thrilling- it was invigorating to watch a Star Wars movie that could go anywhere, to see a film alive with endless possibilities.
But because of Johnson's intelligent screenplay, every character arc and decision makes sense on a basic level. Johnson takes these wonderful characters in smart directions, using this story to develop their leadership skills and their own personal determination. Rey's story is focused on the idea of learning to accept what can be changed, forcing her to believe in herself more than anything else. Rey's connection with Kylo provides some of the most dramatically rich scenes, and their mutual manipulation of each other takes the story in some fascinating directions. There's a moment at the end that I think signifies Rey's total exclusion of Kylo and his influence, but I don't think these characters are done with each other. Many have complained that Finn's B story in this film is unsatisfying, and that he's basically learning the same lesson that he did in The Force Awakens. But this seems to ignore a simple fact- Finn is still always running in the 7th film, and the only reason he sticks around is for Rey. His adventures on Canto Bight with Rose are all about solidifying his commitment to the Resistance, and it culminates in John Boyega's perfect delivery at "Rebel scum" at a crucial moment.
And if you thought Oscar Isaac had little to do as Poe Dameron in the last film, you'll be glad to see that the best pilot in the Resistance is a major player in The Last Jedi. In fact, Poe becomes the crux of the film's thinly veiled political message, a metaphor that could either be read as completely deliberate or a byproduct of the times. Art reflects reality, and any story about a ragtag group of rebels known as the Resistance being hunted by a massive regime run by an uncontrollable, petulant child is sure to resonate in 2017. But Johnson is less interested in anti-Trump messaging than he is conveying the nature of hope, distinguishing between Poe's brash fighting spirit and Holdo's survive and advance tactics. Like Dunkirk and Wonder Woman before it, The Last Jedi is a mainstream blockbuster about finding the courage to move forward, taking solace in our love for each other, and surviving against all odds. And that's truly beautiful to behold.
The Force Awakens gave the Star Wars franchise a tactile sensibility that was sorely lacking in the prequels, a lived-in griminess that calls back to the days of the original trilogy. Johnson expands on that even further, taking us to new worlds that have never existed, and delivering what may be the most visually stunning Star Wars movie in the process. Luke's misty island, Snoke's blood red throne room, the opulent casinos of Canto Bight, the dusty mineral wonderland of Crait- Star Wars is at its best when it gives us a feeling of exploration and discovery, and Johnson knows this very well. The cinematography of Steve Yedlin (Looper, San Andreas) is absolutely gorgeous, and this film contains some of the most eye-popping sequences of the Star Wars franchise. The Last Jedi moves at a mile-a-minute, chugging along with verve and energy from start to finish thanks to some sharp editing from Bob Ducsay. Even the quiet moments feel engrossing in a way that I didn't expect, and the action scenes are some of the best of the year. From the spectacular opening space battle to the jaw-dropping lightsaber battle in the Throne Room to the entire finale on Crait, The Last Jedi fulfills the promise of blockbuster magic that comes with every Star Wars film.
But it's more than that. It's more than just another spectacle and it's more than just another great adventure with these characters. The Last Jedi represents the re-birth of the Star Wars saga- while the past may not entirely be gone, there's a new beginning in sight. This is a film about the loss and regain of hope, a theme that is somehow felt by Kylo (to more violent, tragic ends), Rey and the Resistance, and most prominently, Luke Skywalker. While this new series belongs to Rey and Kylo and the new guys, this is Luke's story as well. And as much as I get the complaints that Johnson plays fast and loose with established Star Wars history, I'm shocked that the disappointed fans aren't responding to the nostalgic moments in this film, which stand some of the greatest scenes in Star Wars history. There's a scene with Yoda and Luke that is as poignant and moving as anything I've seen in theaters this year, and I have no shame in saying that it was a fanboy moment the likes of which I haven't had in years. Luke's return to action is sure to give goosebumps to anyone with an attachment to this saga, and his monologue that summarizes the film's themes is magnificent. And of course, there's that brilliant final shot of our beloved hero. After transcending the rules of time and space, giving the Rebellion one last chance to survive, Luke sits and watches the binary sunset, creating an image that will soon define this series. The farm boy who became a hero watches the horizon once more with resolve and strength, fading away with "peace and purpose" as his story comes to a close.
Which brings me to the last scene. In a somewhat peculiar coda, we're taken back to Canto Bight and reunited with a little boy who helped Finn and Rose in a crucial moment. After being berated by his boss, the boy goes outside to sweep. And.....he uses the Force to get a broom. As he stares out at the Millennium Falcon, we see the red insignia of his Rebel ring, and the twinkle in his eyes as he stares out at the vast wonder of space. Many have speculated that this ending shows us that there are more potential Jedi out there, and that they'll all come together in Episode IX.
But I think it achieves a more symbolic, less direct purpose. Johnson has stripped the mythology of Star Wars down to its essence, taking away the convoluted rules and traditions and leaving us with one simple image- a young kid, looking out at the horizon, desperately pining for an adventure. It could be Luke, it could be Rey, or it could be this young boy, but in the end, it's why we come to these films. There's a little piece of us in that distinct image, looking out in the distance, hoping for purpose, hoping to be a part of something greater. Johnson has expanded the limits of the Star Wars universe with this breakneck film, taking us to new worlds and shifting expectations at every moment. But at the same time, he has reduced this expansive saga to one recurring image, a perfect portrait of rebellion, determination, and hope. Johnson has simultaneously created one of the year's best movies and caused a massive ripple effect in one of the greatest franchises of all time.
Simply put, The Last Jedi is a moving, rousing delight. Even though I've devoted thousands of words to explaining why I loved the film, I can't possibly do justice to the power of the experience.
The best I can do is offer a short quote. After watching the film last week, my friend said "Wow, that was a roller-coaster."
With all that The Last Jedi does over the course of such a short period of time, with all of the emotion and twists and dazzling pyrotechnics, I couldn't have summed it up better myself.
THE FINAL GRADE: A+ (10/10)
Images: IMDB/Lucasfilm
In 2015, I developed an almost unhealthy obsession with Star Wars: The Force Awakens. I spent hours searching through Reddit, hoping to uncover every single detail I could find about J.J. Abrams' seventh chapter in the Star Wars saga. I exploded with excitement when individual stills from the film hit the web, and for months I was determined to find out exactly when the hotly anticipated trailer would be released. One day, I even discovered a leaked synopsis of the film, which unfortunately turned out to be nearly 100% accurate. As a Star Wars fan since birth, this seemed like an inevitable response in a way, the natural reaction to a fresh installment in the series. But my feverish hype for The Force Awakens was something else entirely- this was the most excited I had ever been for a movie. While personal extenuating circumstances caused the premiere of Abrams' film to be defined more by tragedy than elation, I think it's safe to say that the release of the actual movie was practically an afterthought. I loved what Abrams did with the franchise, but the months of uncontrollable expectations really became part of the fun for me.
My experience with Rian Johnson's Star Wars: The Last Jedi has been the exact opposite of my journey with The Force Awakens. Sure, I was thrilled when the trailers for the film debuted online, and I scooped out my tickets at the earliest possible opportunity. But over the last year, The Last Jedi has barely been a blip on my mind. I made plans with my best friend to see it as soon as possible, and then I just found myself busy with other things. Since hype is such a massive part of the Star Wars experience, I kept wondering what was wrong with me. Why wasn't I more excited? The buzz has been terrific for months! I was waiting for that moment where every fiber of my being would be utterly captivated by Star Wars anticipation, and it just never happened.
This was a blessing in disguise. I knew almost nothing going in, and after my disappointment with Rogue One helped to temper my expectations, I was able to completely give myself over to The Last Jedi. From start to finish, I was immersed in the world that Rian Johnson had brought to life on screen, a world that felt familiar, fresh, and entirely wonderful. I was blown away by what is unquestionably the best Star Wars movie in decades. This is the one we've been waiting for. When The Force Awakens premiered, many complained about its structural similarity to A New Hope, and I noted that it was more than okay as long as the sequels charted their own path. With The Last Jedi, Johnson has done that and then some. He has made a film that combines the wistful nostalgia of the seventh chapter with the gritty war intensity of Rogue One, taking our new heroes in bold directions and reuniting us with old friends, sometimes in unexpected ways. The result is nothing short of spectacular, a film that speaks to this cultural moment while simultaneously acknowledging the iconic mythos of this franchise. It's a blissful, astonishing slice of pop brilliance.
After introducing a new generation of heroes in The Force Awakens, the Star Wars saga picks up right where it left off. Even after the destruction of Starkiller Base, the Resistance is still at a massive disadvantage against the First Order, the military regime built by General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson) and Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) from the ashes of the Empire. As the film begins, the First Order is chasing the last of the Resistance through the galaxy, taking out their base and preparing to exterminate hope once and for all. To save the day and strike a blow against the Order, Commander Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) orchestrates a stunning assault that ultimately comes at a great cost. Meanwhile, on the remote world of Ahch-To, Rey (Daisy Ridley) prepares to reunite with Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), the last of the Jedi order, in the hopes that he'll return to help the Resistance.
But Luke isn't interested in training another Jedi, still reeling after the failed training of Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), the emotionally tortured son of the late Han Solo and General Leia (Carrie Fisher). While Rey pleads her case, the Resistance is caught in a new predicament after their narrow escape- the First Order can now track them through hyperspace. The subsequent assault puts Leia in the medical bay, leaving Vice Admiral Holdo (Laura Dern) in charge of the survival of the Resistance. Poe, unsatisfied by the Admiral's course of action, recruits the recently awoken Finn (John Boyega) and mechanic Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran) to infiltrate a Star Destroyer and disengage their tracking mechanism. To do this, Maz Kanata (Lupita Nyong'o) informs them that they'll need the help of a master codebreaker on Canto Bight, a casino city populated by some of the most vile individuals in the galaxy. And while all of this is going on, a newfound connection emerges between Rey and Kylo Ren, a bond that could tip the scales of balance in the galaxy.
How does one go about reviewing a Star Wars movie that they loved? Even after seeing The Last Jedi three times, I have yet to find the answer to this question. I managed to pull it off with The Force Awakens, but this time, it just feels different. The Star Wars films have transcended their roots as "just movies" to become something else entirely, a franchise that means a whole lot to a large chunk of people around the world. It's easy to pick apart these movies when you're relatively unamused, when you don't find yourself along for the ride. For example, it isn't difficult for me to bash the one-dimensional characters of Rogue One, or the cringe-worthy dialogue and excessive CGI of the prequels. That's a simple task. But when one of these movies really works for me (and I mean really works), it's simply impossible to convey everything that I felt while sitting in that theater. It can't be quantified, it can't be compared, it can't be described- it is a pure experience that is downright magical.
Over the last week, I've had plenty of conversations with people who either disliked or outright hated The Last Jedi. And I get a lot of the complaints. I really do. The stories don't always go where you want them to go, there are some plot holes that are noticeable, and some odd occurrences that stand as risky moves in the Star Wars universe. And even though I'm able to come up with a logical rebuttal to all of the flaws, I keep reverting to something intangible. When it comes to Star Wars movies, it isn't so much about how objectively "good" they are. They're all cheesy sci-fi movies with heroes and villains we've seen before and familiar narrative structures as old as time itself. Even the original trilogy features some of that trademark George Lucas dialogue. No, it's all about how they make you feel, how the archetypes play with your emotions to achieve some kind of effect. And watching The Last Jedi, I felt like I was on cloud nine. The experience overwhelmed me, and then it touched me in a very profound way.
The Star Wars franchise has been trying to find its footing in the aftermath of the prequel trilogy. After a series of movies in which George Lucas boldly took on new challenges and explored radical ideas, J.J. Abrams delivered the cinematic equivalent of comfort food with The Force Awakens. And it was good- it was what we needed at the time. After the Plinkett reviews and the backlash and the changes in digital cinema, Abrams answered every complaint about the prequels and delivered a cast of new characters that we've already come to love. Make no mistake- The Last Jedi is not nearly as good without the foundation set by Abrams in the seventh installment. Many fans are already using one film to bash the other, and that need not be the case. They have a symbiotic relationship, and both are excellent Star Wars films on their own merits. But I love The Last Jedi so much because it feels like the franchise has finally figured out what it wants to be in the modern era. Rian Johnson's film is deeply nostalgic and reverent, but it also realizes that keeping it fresh is the only way these movies can continue to thrive in engaging ways. And while he's aware that the quirky creatures and unique visuals became the subject of fan vitriol in the era of the prequels, he knows that imagination is part of what makes Star Wars so great in the first place.
After seeing The Last Jedi for the first time, I thought to myself "This is a Star Wars movie that I believed could only exist in my dreams." That's a strange thought to have, especially considering the fact that the movie deliberately and intentionally subverts expectations at every turn. You think Snoke is the arch-villain of this new trilogy? Nope, he's just a red herring who gets sliced in half by Kylo Ren. Convinced that Rey is destined to be part of the Skywalker lineage? In reality, she's the daughter of drunken junkyard traders, someone who doesn't "belong in this story," to use the words of Kylo. Are you adamant that Luke tried his hardest to train Ben Solo, only to be betrayed by his Padawan? Unfortunately, it was Luke who failed Kylo, and not the other way around. And of course, any Star Wars fan knows the nature of redemption in the universe, and has likely convinced themselves that Kylo Ren will turn good. Not a chance- he just wants to burn down the galaxy and create something new. Some people hate these twists, and understandably so. Everything that you think will happen is thrown to the wayside in this film. And for me, that was thrilling- it was invigorating to watch a Star Wars movie that could go anywhere, to see a film alive with endless possibilities.
But because of Johnson's intelligent screenplay, every character arc and decision makes sense on a basic level. Johnson takes these wonderful characters in smart directions, using this story to develop their leadership skills and their own personal determination. Rey's story is focused on the idea of learning to accept what can be changed, forcing her to believe in herself more than anything else. Rey's connection with Kylo provides some of the most dramatically rich scenes, and their mutual manipulation of each other takes the story in some fascinating directions. There's a moment at the end that I think signifies Rey's total exclusion of Kylo and his influence, but I don't think these characters are done with each other. Many have complained that Finn's B story in this film is unsatisfying, and that he's basically learning the same lesson that he did in The Force Awakens. But this seems to ignore a simple fact- Finn is still always running in the 7th film, and the only reason he sticks around is for Rey. His adventures on Canto Bight with Rose are all about solidifying his commitment to the Resistance, and it culminates in John Boyega's perfect delivery at "Rebel scum" at a crucial moment.
And if you thought Oscar Isaac had little to do as Poe Dameron in the last film, you'll be glad to see that the best pilot in the Resistance is a major player in The Last Jedi. In fact, Poe becomes the crux of the film's thinly veiled political message, a metaphor that could either be read as completely deliberate or a byproduct of the times. Art reflects reality, and any story about a ragtag group of rebels known as the Resistance being hunted by a massive regime run by an uncontrollable, petulant child is sure to resonate in 2017. But Johnson is less interested in anti-Trump messaging than he is conveying the nature of hope, distinguishing between Poe's brash fighting spirit and Holdo's survive and advance tactics. Like Dunkirk and Wonder Woman before it, The Last Jedi is a mainstream blockbuster about finding the courage to move forward, taking solace in our love for each other, and surviving against all odds. And that's truly beautiful to behold.
The Force Awakens gave the Star Wars franchise a tactile sensibility that was sorely lacking in the prequels, a lived-in griminess that calls back to the days of the original trilogy. Johnson expands on that even further, taking us to new worlds that have never existed, and delivering what may be the most visually stunning Star Wars movie in the process. Luke's misty island, Snoke's blood red throne room, the opulent casinos of Canto Bight, the dusty mineral wonderland of Crait- Star Wars is at its best when it gives us a feeling of exploration and discovery, and Johnson knows this very well. The cinematography of Steve Yedlin (Looper, San Andreas) is absolutely gorgeous, and this film contains some of the most eye-popping sequences of the Star Wars franchise. The Last Jedi moves at a mile-a-minute, chugging along with verve and energy from start to finish thanks to some sharp editing from Bob Ducsay. Even the quiet moments feel engrossing in a way that I didn't expect, and the action scenes are some of the best of the year. From the spectacular opening space battle to the jaw-dropping lightsaber battle in the Throne Room to the entire finale on Crait, The Last Jedi fulfills the promise of blockbuster magic that comes with every Star Wars film.
But it's more than that. It's more than just another spectacle and it's more than just another great adventure with these characters. The Last Jedi represents the re-birth of the Star Wars saga- while the past may not entirely be gone, there's a new beginning in sight. This is a film about the loss and regain of hope, a theme that is somehow felt by Kylo (to more violent, tragic ends), Rey and the Resistance, and most prominently, Luke Skywalker. While this new series belongs to Rey and Kylo and the new guys, this is Luke's story as well. And as much as I get the complaints that Johnson plays fast and loose with established Star Wars history, I'm shocked that the disappointed fans aren't responding to the nostalgic moments in this film, which stand some of the greatest scenes in Star Wars history. There's a scene with Yoda and Luke that is as poignant and moving as anything I've seen in theaters this year, and I have no shame in saying that it was a fanboy moment the likes of which I haven't had in years. Luke's return to action is sure to give goosebumps to anyone with an attachment to this saga, and his monologue that summarizes the film's themes is magnificent. And of course, there's that brilliant final shot of our beloved hero. After transcending the rules of time and space, giving the Rebellion one last chance to survive, Luke sits and watches the binary sunset, creating an image that will soon define this series. The farm boy who became a hero watches the horizon once more with resolve and strength, fading away with "peace and purpose" as his story comes to a close.
Which brings me to the last scene. In a somewhat peculiar coda, we're taken back to Canto Bight and reunited with a little boy who helped Finn and Rose in a crucial moment. After being berated by his boss, the boy goes outside to sweep. And.....he uses the Force to get a broom. As he stares out at the Millennium Falcon, we see the red insignia of his Rebel ring, and the twinkle in his eyes as he stares out at the vast wonder of space. Many have speculated that this ending shows us that there are more potential Jedi out there, and that they'll all come together in Episode IX.
But I think it achieves a more symbolic, less direct purpose. Johnson has stripped the mythology of Star Wars down to its essence, taking away the convoluted rules and traditions and leaving us with one simple image- a young kid, looking out at the horizon, desperately pining for an adventure. It could be Luke, it could be Rey, or it could be this young boy, but in the end, it's why we come to these films. There's a little piece of us in that distinct image, looking out in the distance, hoping for purpose, hoping to be a part of something greater. Johnson has expanded the limits of the Star Wars universe with this breakneck film, taking us to new worlds and shifting expectations at every moment. But at the same time, he has reduced this expansive saga to one recurring image, a perfect portrait of rebellion, determination, and hope. Johnson has simultaneously created one of the year's best movies and caused a massive ripple effect in one of the greatest franchises of all time.
Simply put, The Last Jedi is a moving, rousing delight. Even though I've devoted thousands of words to explaining why I loved the film, I can't possibly do justice to the power of the experience.
The best I can do is offer a short quote. After watching the film last week, my friend said "Wow, that was a roller-coaster."
With all that The Last Jedi does over the course of such a short period of time, with all of the emotion and twists and dazzling pyrotechnics, I couldn't have summed it up better myself.
THE FINAL GRADE: A+ (10/10)
Images: IMDB/Lucasfilm
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