Thursday, December 28, 2017

The Esteemed Critic Reviews The Last Jedi

Luke's milk face.

The Critic once must again log on to the interwebs and let the cretins know his esteemed opinion regarding their big-budget blockbuster detritus, in this case, the latest entry in the now immortal Star Wars franchise. There seems to be something of an internet hubbub centering around the Last Jedi, with many people either exclaiming the film to be the cinematic equivalent of feces, or a very high quality film bringing some much needed character development to a series fairly devoid of it. The movie certainly subverts many Star Wars troupes, e.g., the outlaw with the heart of gold turns out to be opportunistic rather than heroic; the seemingly all-powerful wizard is defeated simply by a lighsaber trick instead of a highly-choreographed duel; yet rather than trolling the audience, as I believe some fans have concluded, director Rian Johnson walks the rather tight rope of making a recognizable Star Wars movie while also making a film that feels different from what came before. The questions raised by The Force Awakens (I've heard these referred to as J.J. Abrams "mystery boxes") are dismissed as irrelevant to the story at hand, which certainly rubs the hardcore the wrong way, for they have spent countless hours of their lives on reddit postulating stupid theories, none of which turned out to be right. Sure, the humor falls flat a few times (Poe's opening your mom joke perhaps the most glaring example), but the sheer weirdness of certain scenes (Luke milking a pregnant sea monster) endeared this film to my heart. The theme of failure runs through this movie--no one's quest is entirely successful, and by the end, the heroes are few. Yet I am truly excited to see what comes next, even with J.J. Abrams taking over the helm for the final film in the trilogy. Hey, it certainly can't be worse than Return of the Jedi (those goddamn teddy bears get me every time). And even if it is, you can be certain that Disney has a Star Wars movie planned for the next one-hundred years, so surely one will check all of your boxes. All hail our monolithic capitalist overlord, Micky Mouse.

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