On this first week of the year, I’d like to start off with some ideas on beginnings.
And this is probably my longest post so far. So, dig in.
One of the ways I’d like to do the topic of beginnings is by discussing how the so-called Star Wars “sequel trilogy” has concluded.
This being a writing podcast and all, we’ll be talking about beginnings in terms of writing.
Never mind the fact that my first post of the year is a post some cannot read, if some are concerned about avoiding spoilers.
Now, concerning podcasts or stories… who’s expecting anything fancy? A lot of advice out there these days is about not caring about what other people think of you or what you believe in.
A lot of advice out there these days is also about not caring about the sloppiness of the beginning of anything. So, let’s just kick things off this year with the right spirit on a platform as public as a podcast to stand as an inspiration to those who are having trouble beginning.
Here, I shall begin this podcast with the prospects of having the ugly smears of beginning something, IE this podcast, on display for the world to see.
We humans aren’t perfect and never can achieve perfection through our own efforts. So, why try to hide it? It just brings strain and headache and heartache. Plus, it’s no doubt some kind of fabrication of oneself to go to the lengths it would take to come off as apparent perfection.
Now, if we just supposed that the makers of the Star Wars “sequel trilogy” used the same ideas when going about the creation of the “sequel trilogy,” everything would make a little bit more sense. But podcasting and filmmaking are two very different mediums.
I only went and saw The Rise of Skywalker because I was sick of the confusion that the shameful disgrace of The Last Jedi had left me with.
And why was The Rise of Skywalker called that? If the movie’s ultimately about Rey, and she’s not a blood-relative Skywalker, why is it called that? Because Kylo Ren stops being bad, throws his lightsaber in the ocean, and helps save Rey, doesn’t go to the dark side himself, and starts being called Ben?
I watched a super b-movie sometime within the last few… years. It was called The Horrors of Spider Island. And I saw it on a show called Mystery Science Movie Theater 3000. And if you know that show, you know it’s designed to make fun of super b-movies. And The Horrors of Spider Island was no exception.
You wanna know how many spiders you see in that movie? There’s one spider and you see it for about a second.
I am not kidding. At all. One second.
And most of the movie is really just guys making out with gals in bikinis. That’s it. And one of the things that the MST3K cast kept saying throughout the film while watching all this making-out was “the horrors of Spider Island!”
And it was funny every time they said it. There was nothing scary about that movie. And the fact that it was not at all about what the title said it was didn’t help it in the least.
So, which Skywalker rose? And speaking of ‘rose,’ I was immediately was reminded of Rose at the end of Titanic when she takes someone else’s name instead of her own. In that movie, it makes sense. In The Rise of Skywalker, it feels forced. No pun intended.
At the end of The Rise of Skywalker, Rey looks over and sees Luke and Leia as though they were a married couple and decides that their last name should be her last name too when she’s asked what her last name is.
Then we wrap everything up with a clear indication that some kind of sequel trilogy is on the way which means that this isn’t really the last of the Star Wars fan fiction films intended on being made. And then Rey goes over and stands in front the suns of Tatooine like Luke does in the Original Trilogy. Maybe that was supposed to help out with the whole Star Wars feel.
Have you ever been on a bike going at top speed and the chain busts and you go flying to the ground and you get wind knocked out of yourself?
That’s pretty much how that ending went. It fell flat.
Riding a bike is great. But too much pressure on that great thing and the whole thing will send you to the ground with no air to breathe. And there aren’t a whole lot of worser feelings than being unable to breathe.
One of the things about The Rise of Skywalker is the idea of people dying and coming back to life, making death, especially the first time it happened, less and less significant. If someone never stays dead, their death doesn’t have the same emotional punch as it did the first time they died.
Remember Tony Stark? Remember his heart-crushing death? It’s heart-crushing because it happened. And it’s undeniably irreversible. The same with Natasha Romanova and her death.
It’s a bad joke to keep bringing somebody back after making the audience pretty absolutely sure that somebody was dead already.
Who does it? Leia, Palpetine, Ben Solo, Rey, Fin, and anyone else?
The whole thing with Rey’s parents and her whole parentage deal. Palpetine is apparently still alive after hearing nothing from him or having any clues about his survival from his ostensibly definitive death three movies beforehand. Yet he has been resurrected.
Why was it so special that Rey was Palpetine’s granddaughter?
I get the feeling that was only the case because they needed a tie-in with the Original Trilogy that would be more resonant with audiences than it would be to not not bring somebody from the Original Trilogy in because the film needed a bad guy everyone, including the original fans which have, so far, HATED this new pretentious “sequel trilogy,” could hate.
Does anyone else get the feeling about these movies that they weren’t a story being told by a single man like the first six were?
The “Sequel Trilogy” hasn’t felt at all like one person telling a main character’s story. It has felt like Disney trying to make a Star Wars movie trilogy for the new generation while trying not to offend anyone by including all the basic nationalities (African, Asian, and Female) it can and pushing their own agenda.
There’s no heart in those films. What little human emotion there is, there’s only enough to tell it was only supplied for emotional kicks for the purpose of storytelling. And it was crappy storytelling.
The Original Trilogy and the even the Prequel Trilogy never pulled any plot twists just to confuse the audience. It was never about being unpredictable so that the audience had to watch the whole thing. It was never about creating a storyline so ridiculously chock-full of plot twists that no human on earth could remember what in the world happened so that they could just tell someone what happens in the movie.
The “Sequel Trilogy” was a bunch of crap designed to make audiences keep watching so that Disney could get their money.
It was a real story with those first six.
In a documentary on the Original Trilogy, Harrison Ford described Luke as symbolic of George Lucas growing up as an independent filmmaker, dealing with father issues and the “evil empire” of big-business filmmaking in Hollywood.
We see Luke in A New Hope dealing with losing the only family he thinks he has and discovering a new world of adventure serving the Rebellion.
In The Empire Strikes Back, Luke enters rigorous training which he continuously fails and then foolishly goes off to fight Lord Vader who undeniably defeats Luke and reveals to Luke his parentage which makes actual sense and explains most everything about the movies leading up to that point.
In The Return of the Jedi, we see Luke having grown wiser and older, humbly learning from his teachers and going on to save his father from the dark side, a mental and heart battle not easily won in any way possible.
Who do we find in The Force Awakens? Your average female; a nobody scavenger on a planet nobody knows about with uncontrollable, untamed, raw, immense power; someone who is unusually powerful and slightly skilled in the Force and learns all the training with seemingly extremely little effort.
Why? Well, until we find out the answer in The Rise of Skywalker, it’s ostensibly because she’s a woman and women these days are apparently just that way – naturally powerful and strong from within – or something.
The filmmakers try to sell the idea that Rey needs teaching. But only because every Jedi in the movies before has needed training. So, she should need it too, I guess, so it’s like the other Star Wars films.
And when we see her training, it’s no problem at all for her. There’s no emotional struggle as she learns the ways of the Force. There’s none of that like when Luke went through it.
This is our main character – a strong, naturally empowered, ostensibly flawless female with whom only females connect because she’s female.
Well, if she’s naturally this way (flawless, empowered, strong, independent, smart, not stupid like men [which is Poe’s role, to increase the idea of “women are stronger”]) than why are making such a stink about the fact that she’s empowered and strong if this is the norm?
And what is already strong in our reality today that she is being strong like?
What does ‘strong’ even mean? Masculinity?
Oh, males? But they’re weak, right? Selfish. Masculine? Why would you strive for masculinity if masculinity is something to be squashed?
If masculinity, which some, perhaps many, call “toxic masculinity,” is so toxic, why strive to do things that said masculinity has achieved already? Why not come up with actual definitions for new words that describe what you’re going for with the whole “strong woman” thing.
There are men. And there are males. Just because someone is biologically a male doesn’t make them a man. That takes time, effort, and diligence. Being a man does not come naturally.
So, why would women even want to strive for manliness if some already call manliness what’s wrong with society?
- Insert bullet into chamber in gun in hand.
- Aim gun at foot at end of own leg.
- Insert bullet in gun in hand into foot by pulling trigger on gun in hand.
These are just some of the issues I find in the new Star Wars fan fiction films. If I had the strength (or the seeming stupidity) to spend more time on this waste of time, I’d say more.
But I’m done.
Until we got The Rise of Skywalker, The Force Awakens was just a movie that was just like A New Hope in many ways that set up The Last Jedi… a movie which has nothing to do with The Force Awakens other than the fact that the same characters are in both.
And The Force Awakens is chock-full of people just excited to be in the world of Star Wars, with the new characters getting all bubbly when they hear names from the Original Trilogy as though they saw the movies growing up too.
The Original Trilogy never was about pushing anything. It was about normal family and normal gender roles. This new trilogy of fan-fiction has done nothing but push, push, PUSH.
And I don’t like being pushed. Nor do I like those I care about being pushed. And the filmmakers of the new Star Wars films were only ever pushing. And if there was ever any non-pushing moments, there were far too few of them to ever challenge all the pushing that went on.
That is why I wholeheartedly dislike like the most recent Star Wars fan fiction movies posing as a “Sequel Trilogy.”
They don’t add anything to society.
There’s a difference between pushing society and furthering society. Furthering is a process. There’s growth involved. Pushing involves force. A lack of patience. Maybe I’m changing the definitions or not doing them or my point justice in my use of the words. But there certainly is a lot of force (no pun intended) in the Star Wars “Sequel Trilogy.”
I could go on. But with a single mental glance of thought towards the myriads of stupid mistakes, I rest my case.
Rey’s seeming flawlessness, people dying and resurrecting over and over again, the ludicrous number of plot twists made just to confuse the audience, and all the rest of it… the whole “Sequel Trilogy,” like many other destructive things in this world, should never have ever happened.