Kurt Halfyard, Contributing Writer
The movie-magic for me, was not in any way ‘awakened’ by this new tale in the all too familiar galaxy far, far away. I believe the chapter-title, The Force Awakens, is intended to evoke a return to 'a feeling' for a certain type of Star Wars fan. Perhaps I am older and my tastes have simply (sadly) evolved out of this universe; one where nearly everyone of any importance is (alarmingly) related to everyone else of importance. A bloodline dynasty of coincidences that reduces the vast reaches of space, millions of worlds with trillions of sentient folks struggling with their lives, to the midichlorians in the Skywalker blood. The force in this extended family and ancestry apparently being the only thing to enact change. To adult me, this seems ridiculously small, and safe -- downright timid in scope.
In the fuzzy 21st century fashion of reboots, remakes, and re-envisioning, we get J.J. Abrams, the filmmaker we deserve (the masses have voted via box-office dollars), a fan-first, filmmaker-second studio hack, who does spiffily renovated homage, sparkling with high sheen, but fails to follow through bold new ideas or concepts. You know, the thing that makes a story memorable to a generation. He hears the notes, but fails at constructing any kind of memorable symphony. A beat by beat redo of Star Wars (Episode IV for the kiddies out there) with a few colour and gender fixes, little more. This is Abrams’ rebooting of Star Trek all over again: action over ideas, momentum over thought, with superb casting and an eye for visuals, cut short by fan-boy glee and worship. If Lucas went to Campbell, Kurosawa and world religions for inspiration, Abrams goes to the original Trilogy, and a smidge into the Prequels; the pop-cultural snake is eating its own tail.
That all is to say, I paid to see the most expensive fan film that money can buy. Slavery to 'the rules' is no way to make a movie, no matter how good the characters are. Poe, Rey, Ren and Fin(n) are all wonderful new faces and iconic-ly memorable three-letter handles. The gender and racial balancing to the Force are more than welcome, too. Nevertheless, no matter how sharp the one liners, nor how beautiful the cinematography, this is still fan service on the $250 million dollar scale, to be lapped up by an undemanding (or nostalgia eager) audience. Who ever made the They Live mashup of the poster for The Force Awakens was a genius. Too much fan-culture is toxic and stunts us collectively as a species.
For the sake of going forward do NOT give us what we want, give us what we are unaware we need. Ridley Scott’s R-rated Prometheus, with its corporate mission full of schemers and fuck-ups is looking better and better in hindsight of safe Marvel-Disney pandering for box-office. To re-ignite the tiniest flicker of hope remaining towards getting a great Star Wars film in the cinema again, it will take an artist with big ideas (and a willingness to fight his corporate Empire if necessary to use them), a sense of risk and adventure, not just a snappy sense of polish.
(Note: A longer version of this take appears on Kurt's other site, Rowthree.com)