In seeing the The Rise of Skywalker (ROS), I was blown away. That in no way means it’s perfect, nothing is, but it was fulfilling — for my heart, my fandom, and my inner child. That last part will be important later. What I won’t say is that it fulfilled my expectations, because I try not to go into movies with expectations, especially a movie of this magnitude in my life and one steeped in as much history and lore. Expectations are at best boring (if what you expect is what you get) and at worst volatile (in that subverted expectations prompt extreme feelings, some good, some very bad — as this fan base knows too well).
ROS was frenetic and packed “to the gills” but in my opinion the right way to end the saga. I loved it. In a Facebook post in one of the Star Wars groups I follow I expressed that Star Wars has enriched my life and some of my most treasured relationships in ways few other things have, or even could. My father and I shared the OT in the theater and still share these movies. My kids (now 18 and 15) were inducted at ages 7 and 4 to “A New Hope” (which was not yet named that when I saw it at age 7 in the theater in 1977) are huge fans, and came with me to the premiere this week. And I said, when the lights go down, I would simultaneously feel 7, 37 and nearly 50 years old, full of life, childlike wonder, love…and Hope. And that is what I felt.
Because of my “no expectations” rule, I have enjoyed every Star Wars movie and show. I’ve liked some better than others, and can acknowledge both the flaws, as well as the fact that my view is my opinion, and nothing more. I acknowledge we all don’t like, interpret or consume the same way. And all I ask in return is the acknowledgement that when it comes to Star Wars, and art generally, it is subjective and that because of that, no one’s opinion is wrong — or definitively right.
To wit, I actually loved The Last Jedi (TLJ). I loved what it was and tried to be, in exposing our heroes humanity, and the effects/dynamics of the passage of time/generations. The reason these characters and our original friends are so different in these movies, is because while the underlying themes of Star Wars are timeless, the time in which each movie comes out has its own themes in culture. And in watching ROS, I actually think this movie enhances TLJ. In my opinion, while a few questions are left open, it gives some aspects of TLJ greater weight and it finishes some arcs that were created/advanced. ROS/TLJ are siblings. Not the same, sometimes at odds, but bound and ultimately complementary.
However, after seeing the endless “hate” for TLJ, and watching the angry predictions and then reactions to reviews that preceded ROS, I watched and came out of this movie — and the timing of when the movie is out is both a trigger and wonderful metaphor for this — thinking about, at least from my perspective, why there is such a stark and in some cases aggressive division in fandom with these movies. Let me be clear, I am not talking about the minority of true toxicity connected to the movies, as the source of that behavior is very easy to pinpoint. I’m talking about the real fans who do “hate” movies or parts of them. I will not use the term “hater” as it’s derisive and reeks of that absolutism that I don’t like from fans who can’t acknowledge or respect opinion.
So here we go. I believe strong disappointment and “hate” for any of the movies comes with those aforementioned expectations. These movies are not intended to be thought provoking. They are intended to provoke emotions, and I think at varying levels, too many go into the theater — or even a pre-discussion — with too much head and not enough heart. And the head is filled with not just expectations, but in some cases even assumptions based on disconnected threads born in an Extended Universe, now Legends, from which they can’t let go.
We’re all fans and deserve that title, but as some have aged, they seem to go into these movies from the perspective of a collector, instead of a kid. They are huge, committed fans, but seem to treat memories as fragile. They focus on, and are fiercely protective of, the perceived value in preserving them, instead of trying to recapture the wonder and fun when we saw them for the first time. They are “mint-in-box” as they say, and anything that is outside the box has the potential to decrease the value of what they hold dear. To put it another way, they go into the movies in a “parent,” not “play” mindset. Kids play with no filters, no baggage, no rules and no fear. Parents (myself included with my own children) approach play as fun, but the experience is (sometimes small, sometimes big) tempered and even sometimes eroded by a fear of risk, and a (truly noble) intention to protect what is dear. But the reality is that Star Wars isn’t our child. We are the child, and we need to run, and laugh and play and not concern ourselves about 5 minutes, 5 days, or 5 years behind or ahead — at least while we’re in that theater. There was a small moment near the end of ROS where Rey slid down a hill of sand on a makeshift saucer. There was what I believe to be genuine joy — both for Rey and Daisy — in that moment. She could have walked down the hill but it made me wonder from where in the scriptwriting that moment came. It was beautiful. THAT relatively insignificant moment, to me, encapsulated what that entire movie meant, at least to me.
Finally, and I hope this next analogy is taken in the spirit which it’s intended, which is to help us all find the place of joy we DESERVE as fans, and children of Star Wars. The fact that the big Star Wars movies are released around Christmas is of course a wonderful present, but it also prompted me to think of this final scene from the Polar Express. Take the two minutes if you can to watch, even if you’ve seen it a million times. Pay attention to the words — of the parents and then of the narrator. I feel like that is indicative of Star Wars fandom, and I encourage everyone to hear the bell, and continue to believe…