Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (J.J. Abrams, 2019) has been divisive to say the least: lauded by many critics and punters, but equally loved by many that I have spoken to. In an interview with the BBC’s Simon Mayo, director J.J. Abrams stated that: “We knew, any choice we made, literally any choice narrative, design. Location, would please someone and infuriate someone else, so we just knew this wasn’t about trying to please anyone, or certainly everyone because I wouldn’t know how to do that”. This is a statement that has been echoed in much of the discourse surrounding the film. There seems to be a concerted effort by many critics to keep the debate surrounding this film civil and free of the toxicity that makes the discourse surrounding The Last Jedi (Rian Johnson, 2017) so vitriolic and uncomfortable. As such, I do not wish to start any fires with this article; I merely wish to express the difficulty I find in analysing the latest Star Wars film in an impartial manner.

 

One plot point which suffers this problem is the revelation in the film that protagonist Rey (Daisy Ridley) is the granddaughter of series antagonist Sheev Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid). This will likely seem a strange twist to many who will watch these films in years to come absent of context. Given that, in part two of this trilogy, it was established that Rey did not hail from noble parentage, only for part three to make a big deal of how she was of noble grandparentage? That was less what grieved me however, than the fact that it meant what I previously saw to be a far more interesting narrative angle would no longer be fully explored. In that way, my criticism is more focused on what the film is not than what it is. This is a school of criticism that I have never been particularly fond of, but it can be a natural response to any work.

 

Another point at which I felt torn between interpretations was a point late in the film where Rey is burning Kylo Ren’s tie fighter, planning to take up hermitage on alien Skelig Micheal like her teacher Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) before her. At this moment, an apparition of Luke catches his father lightsaber before it falls onto the pyre, stating: “A Jedi’s weapon deserves more respect”. In the moment, I read this as a reaction to a small gag from The Last Jedi where a disregardful Luke chucks that same lightsaber aside. This reading largely spawned from me relating the moment to an overanalysis of this gag by many overinvested Star Wars fans, who saw that gag as a middle finger to their treasured childhood classics. A moment passed though, and I reflected, remembering that Luke’s arc in The Last Jedi was realising that people still believed in the Jedi. As such, this moment makes perfect sense as a continuation of the last film, not a contradiction. It was at this point that my annoyance was redirected to the discourse surrounding the previous film that was dictating the way I was now viewing this film.

 

While I still believe it was not the strongest or most novel narrative line to take, I must admit that the Rey-Palpatine twist is reasonably well-conceived on a thematic level. Rey is very clearly trying to defy what certain characters label her ‘destiny’, and is trying to forge her own path in spite of the sins of her grandfather. Had I not grown to define what I loved about The Last Jedi in opposition to its critics, I may have seen this film as merely being subpar, but enjoyable, as opposed to actively annoying to watch. While I would not describe Rise of Skywalker as a particularly good film, there is no doubt that it is tainted by the metanarrative discourse of it and its predecessors.

 

I think this episode, if you’ll pardon the pun, is a word of warning against the dangers of vitriolic discourse. I am not seeking to devalue film discourse, or say that anyone should shut themselves off from opinions retrograde to their own. Instead, I suggest that we should be careful not to allow ourselves to be drawn into conversations of undue heat, and furthermore, that we do not allow rants and ‘hot takes’ to monopolise this discourse, because in this case it left me wrestling more with presuppositions than narrative themes.