My earliest Star Wars memory involved the vague outlines of hulking metal behemoths, ghostly and ominous, approaching on the horizon. I was probably about five or six; and had no idea those shadowy creatures were AT-ATs sent by the evil Empire. But I do remember a sense of impending doom, of dread looming in the distance, of confronting an enemy so vast and unrelenting that the only victory would be escape.
In agreeing to do a new Star Wars, writer, director, and all-around pop culture geek J.J. Abrams did not have an enviable task. Most people still had the acrid aftertaste of Lucas’ overly manufactured prequels in their mouths. The franchise’s biggest fans were seemingly either males over fifty or kids under twelve. Yet as a brand, Star Wars was still largely bulletproof. All previous movies, quality notwithstanding, garnered legions of fans and made millions at the box office. In many circles, Star Wars remained at a level of fandom that could most aptly be described as religious, for better and for worse. This is all to say that Abrams had both the easiest sell -- of course people will line up to see it! -- and the toughest -- would people accept something new so easily?
The good news is I thoroughly enjoyed The Force Awakens. It has charm. It has thrills. It has humor and wit and fun. This sounds simple enough to do, but it’s surprising how many mega-million-dollar blockbusters nowadays can conjure up everything imaginable except heart. Congratulations J.J. Abrams, you took on a project with incalculable pressure and succeeded… mostly.
The Force Awakens starts with key data being hidden in a droid. Alone and lost, the droid finds its way into the hands of Rey, a scrappy scavenger, who unknowingly has just stumbled upon information that could impact the entire galaxy. If this sounds like the setup to A New Hope, that’s because it is. There are countless echoes of both A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back -- the desert planet, the droid with key info, the masked villain, the planet-destroying superweapon, a jazzy cantina, the X-Wing trench run, and so on. Whether you see these similarities as reverential homage or outright theft will depend on your level of cynicism. There are people who lament the lack of original ideas in movies nowadays, especially with several high-grossing films of 2015 closely retreading their respective franchise’s glory days (read: Jurassic World, Spectre, The Force Awakens); there are others who feel invigorated by revisiting a world they grew up loving so many years ago.
I must admit I fall somewhere in the middle. The Force Awaken’s tilt towards nostalgia over novelty should have been expected. It’s the more conservative approach, the safe choice. None of this would even be a point for discussion if it wasn’t for Abrams’ involvement. With The Force Awakens, Abrams has seemingly retread some of the same territory he traversed in Star Trek Into Darkness, specifically his affinity for -- or perhaps the better term is reliance upon -- a franchise’s superior forebears, to the point of slavishly re-purposing the same story beats and narrative model. Star Trek Into Darkness was essentially a vague mimic of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn; in many ways, The Force Awakens is a vague mimic of A New Hope. This could be seen as paying respect to the beloved stories from yesteryear; but it could also be seen as a lazy storytelling crutch used to hold up an ostensibly flimsy script.
Already, critics of Abrams have latched onto his weaknesses as a storyteller, namely his adherence to indulgent fan service. Andrew O’Hehir of Salon even went so far as to call Abrams “a one-man industry of cultural recycling and repurposing… everything he makes is in danger of being overshadowed by all the stuff it references.” O’Hehir goes on to describe The Force Awakens as “the work of a talented mimic or ventriloquist who can just about cover for the fact that he has nothing much to say.”
Those are harsh words; but I can’t completely disagree with O’Hehir. Abrams is a technically proficient filmmaker, and one that is more emotionally in touch with characters and tone than your average blockbuster director. But he is also limited in his inventiveness and more importantly, his ability to follow through with storytelling concepts. He asks good questions, but often fails to provide adequate answers. His initial involvement with ABC’s Lost was groundbreaking for network TV; yet he failed to conclude the show as intriguingly, resulting in a lukewarm series finale, at best. His time-bending conceit for the 2009 Star Trek reboot is, in my opinion, one of his most fascinating and adroit ideas; yet he failed to fully explore his newly-established parallel universe in the sequel, Star Trek Into Darkness. Even Abrams’ Super 8 was a tonal mimic of Spielberg’s earlier work, resulting in an oddly forgettable and languid monster movie.
The Force Awakens mostly accomplishes what it sets out to do. It’s surprisingly light-footed and moves at a brisk pace. It has an abundance of humor and a wallop of emotional complexity. But its story is also awkward, seemingly at odds with itself. One half wants to introduce the new characters and their search for Luke Skywalker. The other half seemingly focuses on Han, Leia, and the Resistance and their quest to destroy the new planet-sized superweapon. It’s a strange juxtaposition of storytelling ambitions, relegating the quest to find Luke -- which I presume is meant to be the central backbone of the new trilogy -- to nothing more than a framing device in this chapter.
At the end of the day, I can’t help but see The Force Awakens as the compromise of multiple creative forces. This movie had the unenviable task of assembling a new cast for a new generation, bringing back the original movies’ heroes, somehow passing the baton from the past to the present, and producing a thrilling new adventure for old and new fans alike. Considering the sky-high expectations and cultural significance of the Star Wars institution, Abrams created the best possible outcome -- a watchable if not mind-blowing product that sets the stage for bigger and better adventures in the future. Star Wars after all these years, is still marching forward -- hulking, overwhelming, and unstoppable -- for better or for worse.
In agreeing to do a new Star Wars, writer, director, and all-around pop culture geek J.J. Abrams did not have an enviable task. Most people still had the acrid aftertaste of Lucas’ overly manufactured prequels in their mouths. The franchise’s biggest fans were seemingly either males over fifty or kids under twelve. Yet as a brand, Star Wars was still largely bulletproof. All previous movies, quality notwithstanding, garnered legions of fans and made millions at the box office. In many circles, Star Wars remained at a level of fandom that could most aptly be described as religious, for better and for worse. This is all to say that Abrams had both the easiest sell -- of course people will line up to see it! -- and the toughest -- would people accept something new so easily?
The good news is I thoroughly enjoyed The Force Awakens. It has charm. It has thrills. It has humor and wit and fun. This sounds simple enough to do, but it’s surprising how many mega-million-dollar blockbusters nowadays can conjure up everything imaginable except heart. Congratulations J.J. Abrams, you took on a project with incalculable pressure and succeeded… mostly.
The Force Awakens starts with key data being hidden in a droid. Alone and lost, the droid finds its way into the hands of Rey, a scrappy scavenger, who unknowingly has just stumbled upon information that could impact the entire galaxy. If this sounds like the setup to A New Hope, that’s because it is. There are countless echoes of both A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back -- the desert planet, the droid with key info, the masked villain, the planet-destroying superweapon, a jazzy cantina, the X-Wing trench run, and so on. Whether you see these similarities as reverential homage or outright theft will depend on your level of cynicism. There are people who lament the lack of original ideas in movies nowadays, especially with several high-grossing films of 2015 closely retreading their respective franchise’s glory days (read: Jurassic World, Spectre, The Force Awakens); there are others who feel invigorated by revisiting a world they grew up loving so many years ago.
I must admit I fall somewhere in the middle. The Force Awaken’s tilt towards nostalgia over novelty should have been expected. It’s the more conservative approach, the safe choice. None of this would even be a point for discussion if it wasn’t for Abrams’ involvement. With The Force Awakens, Abrams has seemingly retread some of the same territory he traversed in Star Trek Into Darkness, specifically his affinity for -- or perhaps the better term is reliance upon -- a franchise’s superior forebears, to the point of slavishly re-purposing the same story beats and narrative model. Star Trek Into Darkness was essentially a vague mimic of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn; in many ways, The Force Awakens is a vague mimic of A New Hope. This could be seen as paying respect to the beloved stories from yesteryear; but it could also be seen as a lazy storytelling crutch used to hold up an ostensibly flimsy script.
Already, critics of Abrams have latched onto his weaknesses as a storyteller, namely his adherence to indulgent fan service. Andrew O’Hehir of Salon even went so far as to call Abrams “a one-man industry of cultural recycling and repurposing… everything he makes is in danger of being overshadowed by all the stuff it references.” O’Hehir goes on to describe The Force Awakens as “the work of a talented mimic or ventriloquist who can just about cover for the fact that he has nothing much to say.”
Those are harsh words; but I can’t completely disagree with O’Hehir. Abrams is a technically proficient filmmaker, and one that is more emotionally in touch with characters and tone than your average blockbuster director. But he is also limited in his inventiveness and more importantly, his ability to follow through with storytelling concepts. He asks good questions, but often fails to provide adequate answers. His initial involvement with ABC’s Lost was groundbreaking for network TV; yet he failed to conclude the show as intriguingly, resulting in a lukewarm series finale, at best. His time-bending conceit for the 2009 Star Trek reboot is, in my opinion, one of his most fascinating and adroit ideas; yet he failed to fully explore his newly-established parallel universe in the sequel, Star Trek Into Darkness. Even Abrams’ Super 8 was a tonal mimic of Spielberg’s earlier work, resulting in an oddly forgettable and languid monster movie.
The Force Awakens mostly accomplishes what it sets out to do. It’s surprisingly light-footed and moves at a brisk pace. It has an abundance of humor and a wallop of emotional complexity. But its story is also awkward, seemingly at odds with itself. One half wants to introduce the new characters and their search for Luke Skywalker. The other half seemingly focuses on Han, Leia, and the Resistance and their quest to destroy the new planet-sized superweapon. It’s a strange juxtaposition of storytelling ambitions, relegating the quest to find Luke -- which I presume is meant to be the central backbone of the new trilogy -- to nothing more than a framing device in this chapter.
At the end of the day, I can’t help but see The Force Awakens as the compromise of multiple creative forces. This movie had the unenviable task of assembling a new cast for a new generation, bringing back the original movies’ heroes, somehow passing the baton from the past to the present, and producing a thrilling new adventure for old and new fans alike. Considering the sky-high expectations and cultural significance of the Star Wars institution, Abrams created the best possible outcome -- a watchable if not mind-blowing product that sets the stage for bigger and better adventures in the future. Star Wars after all these years, is still marching forward -- hulking, overwhelming, and unstoppable -- for better or for worse.
