Warning: This review contains spoilers!
My life changed forever that summer evening in 1977 when my parents took my brother and me to the Côte-des-Neiges cinema to see the original Star Wars before it was re-christened A New Hope. George Lucas’ cinematic classic became a childhood obsession that has lasted well into adulthood. The space cowboy Han Solo was my boyhood idol (and the reason why I to this day almost always wear a vest). Now finally, as of this holiday season, the long saga of The Force and the struggle against the Dark Side has, after a few false endings, come to a final conclusion with Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker.
Star Wars fans are notoriously difficult to satisfy. They waste no time going from the movie theatre to the internet to express their displeasure at any minor detail that didn’t live up to their fastidious standards. Times like those I am reminded of how Ambrose Bierce once defined a critic as “a person who boasts himself hard to please because nobody tries to please him.” (page 26, The Devil’s Dictionary, Dover Edition.) I for one have grown tired of the internet trolls who give Star Wars fans a bad name like the ones who were personally offended by Rose Tico’s (played by actress Kelly Marie Tran) hairstyle and body type in The Last Jedi. After screening The Rise of Skywalker Christmas Eve morning I spent most of the rest of the day and night watching a Star Wars marathon on the Showcase channel, and you know what I noticed? Most of the movies in the series have plot holes large enough to fit the Death Star (with the exception of Rogue One which is, in my opinion, still the best and most perfect Star Wars movie), and contain countless moments of monumental bad acting and atrocious dialogue! To those fans I suggest they look into the Japanese aesthetic principle of wabi-sabi: Appreciating something despite its imperfections.
As for The Rise of Skywalker, the movie is well-paced and never stalls or sputters, and J.J. Abrams’ directing is spot on in tone and style. John Williams score is excellent but delivers nothing new for us to hum as we are leaving the theatre. Plot-wise at several points they veer a little too close to the Lord of the Rings territory for my liking but I appreciate that they end the movie by bringing us back full circle to where the saga began. However it felt like they were trying to play it safe and wanted to wrap everything up quickly so as not to offend the aforementioned trolls. At least The Last Jedi took some risks.
Episodes VII, VIII and IX do not give us a clear, despicable villain to hate and I did not care much for the sudden recycling of Emperor Palpatine, which to be honest seemed a little forced (no pun intended). And the reveals where not all that shocking; certainly not anywhere near as iconic as “No! I am your father!” (Episode V).
I liked that they gave Carrie Fisher top billing in the film, even though she appears in The Rise of Skywalker courtesy of the magic of special effects in what is the greatest cinematic resurrection since Bruce Lee starred in The Game of Death, although this time it is done far more tastefully. I am also grateful that they replaced the Episode VII & VIII unsightly rectangular sensor dish on the Millennium Falcon with the traditional circular one, which now matches the tattoo on my chest. And that is the last nice thing I have to say about those Disney extortionists who are trying to force (once again no pun intended) the fans into subscribing to their service to see The Mandalorian, unlike Star Trek which is making the new Picard series easily accessible.
So what was it like watching Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker? It was like going to a concert in your mid-forties featuring a band you first saw live in your teens: The players are older, and a few of them are absent with fairly reasonable replacements. You enjoy yourself. It is a great nostalgic experience. They are still good. But not quite as good as the first time.
