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Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Review

As someone who was there at the beginning that fateful summer of 1977, I’ve rode the highs and the lows of the Star Wars saga over the years. During that time, there have been, shall we say, some truths I’ve clung to that depended greatly on my own point of view. I’ve reevaluated these films so many times over the years that in the end you just have to make peace with what you love and what you don’t when it comes to Star Wars.

It’s such a wide menu of choices, and everyone can take what they adore about these films and cherish them while punting the less savory aspects to the side. Ask any Star Wars fan and they’ll tell you – they just ignore the things that they don’t enjoy and focus on the things they do.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Review

There was little in Episode IX that I could focus on, and too much that I cannot ignore, no matter how many emotional and mental exercises I try to make to justify what I saw: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is a bad movie, and I wish fervently that it was not so. It breaks too many rules carefully established over the last 42 years, it is spiritually vacant that goes directly against the intentions of George Lucas in the first place, and it spends so much time fighting against the other films in the saga, especially the prequels and The Last Jedi, that it almost feels like a film made out of spite.

There are wide swaths of fans who may not enjoy the prequels, but let us be fair – Lucas may not be a very funny or a very romantic man, but there was a subtext to the prequels that absolutely works in the larger scale, a worldbuilding that is deeply rooted and makes solid sense. Same for the original trilogy, although a lot of that was done on the fly. That’s because characterization was key, not some need to provide thrills every few minutes. The Rise of Skywalker cynically refuses to be quiet because it confuses silence with emptiness. It is busy, frantic, and scattered, and ignores years of established story and characterization for cheap nostalgic thrills.

The Force Awakens had a particular job to do, and while it may not have been elegant about it, it does succeed in bringing Star Wars back to a place of relative familiarity after the prequels took the saga away from its pulpy underpinnings to something wider in scope.  Rian Johnson took the ball that The Force Awakens handed to him and brought needed spirituality and a deeper context in The Last Jedi, reminding many of us why we fell in love with the saga in the first place – the themes and concepts may be boilerplate fortune cookie platitudes, but they still meant something.

There was a deeper connection in The Last Jedi that felt, and still feels relevant: that it’s okay to be at your lowest point, it’s okay to fail, as long as you use those failures and struggles as a foundation to build upon.  Many fans may not have liked certain aspects of The Last Jedi, but the film provided meaning and conviction and not simply nostalgia, which The Force Awakens has in abundance. The Last Jedi is about something. The Rise of Skywalker isn’t about anything.

Now, it’s clear that J.J. Abrams loves Star Wars. He’s a part of that generation of filmmakers that was directly inspired by those films, and probably used them as fuel to become an artist in his own right. Star Wars has that effect on people. But Abrams either ignores or doesn’t understand the underpinnings of why Star Wars resonates as strongly as it does with so many of us. Star Wars never existed in a vacuum.

Even from a cinematic standpoint, Star Wars was always the culmination of many decades of influences – Westerns, Japanese cinema, Saturday matinee serials, and heroic movies since the medium’s invention. Star Wars was also a response to the cynical films of the 1970s, and the malaise of a generation coming out of the Vietnam War and the tumultuous times surrounding it. Lucas also infused Star Wars with the examination of myth and why certain stories seem to resonate through the years.

All the Joseph Campbell deconstruction and study of those stories roots itself in Star Wars. Then we have a sense of spirituality that, while perhaps basic and superficial at times, still infuses the films with a depth that took root in a generation of fans. None of that has seemingly registered with J.J. Abrams at all. None of that is in The Rise of Skywalker, except at a level that only works as a function of the plot. Abrams may sure enjoy driving the Star Wars car around the lot, but he has no idea how the engine works.

Then there is the rulebreaking that The Rise of Skywalker freely engages in, and that is what got me truly angry at the film. There may be rules established that we do not care for, but those rules were at least thought out and placed within for a reason. We may not like midichlorians too much, but George Lucas had his reasons for putting them into the saga, and the least The Rise of Skywalker could have done was acknowledge them. But it is quickly forgotten or ignored.

Same with the concept of the Sith, or hyperspace, or even the nature of the Dark Side of the Force and the balance of the Force. The film has too much plot to stop and examine these things, and so they are freely tossed aside. The first hour of The Rise of Skywalker plays almost exactly like a video game – retrieve this item to find this item to find this person that knows where this person is being kept, and so on. The first hour of The Rise of Skywalker is terrible, terrible filmmaking, disorientating and erratic.

So what works about The Rise of Skywalker? The acting of both Daisy Ridley and Adam Driver. They manage to find an emotional center to the story and hold on to that center for dear life. Same goes with the camaraderie between Oscar Isaac and John Boyega, and, surprisingly, the work of Anthony Daniels’ C-3PO, who may have the most satisfying arc of the whole movie. Threepio has always been a lovable annoyance throughout the saga, but here he is given real agency and a purpose, and I loved seeing Daniels rise to the occasion.

While the sequences with Carrie Fisher do not mesh as well as the filmmakers hoped they would, they are still effective and provide a lot of narrative drive. There is a lot of action in The Rise of Skywalker, to varying degrees of success. Abrams certainly knows how to film an action setpiece. Certainly there are a lot of thrills to be had in The Rise of Skywalker, but for the most part, they are empty thrills.

There are certainly moments of weaponized nostalgia in The Rise of Skywalker that will elicit an emotional response to all but the most hardened fan – this saga is a part of so many of us, and it’s difficult to extricate Star Wars from much of our lives, and so you may be crying through moments that make no logical sense because it’s Star Wars and you just can’t help it. But the film falls apart like a Tatooine sand castle with the slightest push.

I am angry that The Rise of Skywalker ends this saga with a resounding thud. The Last Jedi set everything up to at least give the saga a deeper, more satisfying finale, even if you didn’t like how that film went about it. But so much of The Rise of Skywalker‘s fan service seem false and… well, let’s just say it, corporate. The Force Awakens was the product of that Disney/Lucasfilm sale, but it only felt like that in a few moments. The Last Jedi never did.

At the end of The Rise of Skywalker, I felt elated that the saga was over, and not in a good way. At least I can put this obsession to bed for a while. I’m sure I’ll come back to the Star Wars saga and remember it in fondness, enjoying the aspects I love while conveniently skipping over the things I don’t. But there’s too much you have to skip to make The Rise of Skywalker work in my mind. I guess I should be somewhat thankful that I can move on from Star Wars to some degree. But for now, I am angry, unsatisfied, and disappointed. This is no way to end a generations-long story, and no way to make that story resonate for generations to come.


The Walt Disney Studios and Lucasfilm’s Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker opens in theaters the evening of Thursday, December 19. You can view all our coverage on the movie by clicking here.

Serpico Jones

Wednesday 12th of February 2020

Alan Cerny is friends with Rian Johnson and the fact that he did not disclose that as well as his connections to the Alamo Drafthouse (who basically serve as Rian Johnson’s press agency) makes him a complete and total hack and a shill. All you have to do is look up pictures of Cerny on twitter and you’ll see his Johnson friendship/obsession on full display.


Tuesday 7th of January 2020

You lost me when you started going on and on about TLJ like it was a good movie. It wasn't even mediocre, for the reasons other reviewers have stated. That immediately brings into question your bonafides to review pretty much any other piece of literature, cinema, TV, etc. because the important parts of all of those forms of entertainment/art are plot and characterization (you know, the areas TLJ absolutely failed in).

Also, the statement of "no review is objective" is a lazy cop-out. You should still either try (note I said try, not be) to be objective, or recuse yourself from the discussion entirely.


Thursday 19th of December 2019

I appreciated this review, which more or less dovetails with others. But relevant to any bias, what threw me was this line: "Rian Johnson took the ball that The Force Awakens handed to him and brought needed spirituality and a deeper context in The Last Jedi, reminding many of us why we fell in love with the saga in the first place ..." "Deeper context?" If you mean characterizations, sorry, it completely distorted and trashed most of these. But mainly, it's impossible to see on what basis TLJ "brought needed spirituality" when TLJ threw out the entire question of the Force, the "religion" of the Jedi, onto the ash heap of history like worn-out socks.

One of the most bitter disappointments in TLJ (aside from characterization, plot, and some dopey special effects - that is, everything else) was indeed Johnson's peremptory and even sneering dismissal of the Force. It has always lent grandeur and mystery to the cheesy characters of Star Wars saga, and its use, and misuse, had framed everything from the start. TFA raised some fascinating questions about the Force that had raised high expectations for TLJ: we would find the Jedi Temple and discover what it is, what it means, and what one might do there relevant to the perennial struggle against 'evil'; we would get to understand the intriguing suggestion that the Jedi had originally charged with maintaining a "balance" between the Dark and Light sides (what happened to that balance? can it be revived? what would happen if it is?); we would get the answer to Rey's phenomenal talent with the Force, which made her an extraordinary autodidact with abilities exceeding that of any other character (how, who?). All this was openly dissed and blown up, reduced to a few moldy books in a tree that were then demolished with the back of Yoda's hand. And without that mythic resonance, the entire Campbell dimension, "spirituality" was thrown into the drink, reducing Star Wars to interminable boring cowboy chase scenes and even more interminable shoot-em video bang-pow fights. I have't seen TRS yet, but if this last film doesn't resurrect the Force, then I can't think of one reason to see it.


Wednesday 18th of December 2019

It's difficult for me to take this review seriously, when The Last Jedi did all of the above for me. Let's admit it here Alan once and for all -- Rian is a friend. You've met him. You've conversed with him. You've been at Butt Numbathons with him. You're a fan of his. How can you possibly be objective about the film that destroyed this franchise. You want to talk about "breaking lore"? Yoda using force lightning as a ghost? You're okay with that? That didn't cause you to wonder why no other Jedi who became a ghost didn't use their ability to affect the living world in the other films? And please don't tell me it's a new power Yoda learned. If it happened off screen, it didn't happen.

While I agree with you that IX is terrible and seems to be out to please way too many masters, The Last Jedi killed the magic. It broke lore. The tone was horrific. It killed the magic. You're friends with the guy who did it. You criticizing that film is silly since there is no way you can remain objective in this scenario. You should recuse yourself from debate on it and/or put up a disclaimer like FilmCritHulk did when he admitted he's personal friends with the guy and can't possibly be objective.


Wednesday 18th of December 2019

Dear Lobot, It's okay that you didn't like TLJ. But you have to understand that there are a lot of people who adore TLJ, and not because we are all friends with Rian. I personally love the film, and you should be glad for me, that I see beauty where you don't. Hating something is never a win, but a loss. I totally agree with this review. I'm very sad that I find that this last movie is such a disappointment, but can't get angry at people who like it, I can just envy them. Cheer up and move on.

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