Star Wars: The Last Jedi [Film Review with Spoilers]

Film Score: 2 out of 5 (Below Average)

Cast: Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Adam Driver, Benicio Del Toro, Oscar Isaac, Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Domhnall Gleeson, & Laura Dern

Director: Rian Johnson

Synopsis: Taking place directly after the events of The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi encompasses three story lines: the First Order who is attempting to vanquish the dwindling Resistance forces, the Resistance who is struggling for survival, and Rey who has located Luke Skywalker and is beseeching him to train her in the ways of the Force. All the major characters return from the The Force Awakens sans Han Solo (pour one out for the galaxy’s best smuggler). The Last Jedi runs for a two hours and a half making it the longest movie in the Star Wars saga. Sadly, that is not a good thing.

——————– Spoilers Ahead ——————–

 

 

 

Some people have praised Rian Johnson for taking Star Wars in a new direction. But I ask, did the movie even leave its docking station? The plot largely rotated around the First Order hunting down the Resistance’s remaining forces who were packed into three vessels that were running out of fuel. This meant that the Resistance could only stay outside of the First Order’s short range fighters (which for some reason did more damage to the Resistance fleet than the First Order armada’s heavy artillery? I think this was due to the fact that their TIE fighters could penetrate the Resistance’s shields?). This charade continued for two thirds of the movie. I kept wondering if the First Order lost the the plans to the Empire’s tractor beam technology. The Death Star sucked in the Millennium Falcon while the space station was so far away it appeared to be just a small moon. Even if the tractor beam wasn’t strong enough to pull in Leia’s smaller vessels, couldn’t Snoke’s flagship stall them? Or could the First Order not hail one of their dreadnoughts? Hyperspace jumps only take an hour or so. I realize I may appear to be arguing a trivial point, but THE ENTIRE MOVIE revolved around this chase. It bored me and removed “the fun” that so many people love in Star Wars films .

I longed for the scenes on Ahch-To, the planet where Luke hid for the entirety of The Force Awakens (TFA). On the planet, Luke slowly caves to Rey’s wishes to train her. This plot line held the most promise, yet turned out to be the most disappointing. In Rey’s first lesson in the Force, Luke asks her to feel it in all its vastness. Rey sees the Light side, the energy of the Force, every place it resides, and finally, she sees the Dark side. It reaches out to her and she immediately heeds its call. Her failure to resist its beckoning frightens Luke and it gave me hope this movie would not be a knock off of The Empire Strikes Back as TFA largely mimicked A New Hope. Rey going to the Dark side or at least testing the waters of the darkness with the possibility of Kylo turning to the Light would lead to new territory for Star Wars. However, this plot line never formed. Instead, when Rey journeyed to the place on the island where the Dark side resided it turned out to be an infinite mirror that failed (or refused?) to tempt Rey. That’s not the Dark side that existed in previous entries into the Star Wars canon. The Dark side always tempts. It makes Force-sensitive beings long for their darkest or most selfish desires. I also hoped (even though it would be a copy of Empire) that Rey would face a trial in Dark side pit like the test Luke faced in the cave on Dagobah.

Yoda testing Luke in The Empire Strikes Back

There were many other aspects that irked me about The Last Jedi. I felt the concept of Leia surviving a proton torpedo, space, and then unconsciously Force pulling herself to safety was ridiculous and it looked even more silly watching it. The movie’s humor elicited laughter from me and everyone in the theater, but seconds after the laughter quieted, I realized it pulled away from the gravity of certain scenes. The one at the top of my mind was Poe’s “I’ll hold for Hux” that occurred at the outset of the movie. It subtracted from the fact that the diversion he was creating was saving the entire Resistance movement. I read one review that stated, “If the characters in the movie cannot take these life and death situations seriously, how is the audience supposed to?” I felt the film’s humor that also arose in TFA seemed more in the vein of a Marvel film. That’s not to say I disliked all the humor. I thought Chewie chowing down on a roasted porg as its former brethren looked on was fitting and hilarious (Yes, I liked the Porgs. No, they did not subtract from the film the way the Ewoks and Jar-Jar unhappily diverted my attention away from previous films’ plots.).

Snoke. Why did Johnson have to kill off Snoke so soon? I thought he was one of the more brilliant creations of J.J. Abrams and Lawrence Kasdan from TFA. He raised questions like who is he? How’d he find Kylo? How’d he come to become Supreme Leader of the First Order? What’s his role with the Knights of Ren? What happened to the Knights anyways? Some naysayers may counter that audiences seeing Return of the Jedi never got that satisfaction with Emperor Palpatine. Unlike Palpatine, learning more about Snoke would have driven the plot and helped me better understand Kylo’s motivations to turn to the Dark side. Sure, Snoke tempted him after he fled Luke’s Jedi academy, but how did Snoke learn Kylo’s heritage and make him want to succeed his grandfather? One of my friends pointed out to me that killing Snoke in this film will allow Kylo (a highly conflicted character) to lead the First Order, something never before seen in the Star Wars saga. I agree, this could potentially be an exciting point, but I still feel cheated by Snoke’s quick death.

Now, what I’m about to say next some will accuse me of heresy, but it needs to be said. One of the elements that was instrumental in making the original trilogy iconic was John Williams score. However, in this film, besides his old themes (i.e. Luke’s theme, the opening crawl, etc.) his songs started to sound generic. I don’t know if he’s getting too old or if he was as bored with the film as I was, but I found his newer themes lacking.

The moment where The Last Jedi truly lost me happened when Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) “saved” Finn as he was trying to sacrifice himself so the Resistance could escape the clutches of the First Order. After “saving him, she gave some speech that sounded ridiculous and is currently eluding me but roughly it was “We have to live otherwise our cause is for naught.”  If Luke hadn’t shown up, by saving Finn she would have handed over the remainder of the Resistance to the First Order, which undercuts her speech. In both scenarios someone was going to die, yet with her interference, she consigned her brethren to almost certain death.

The Last Jedi was not a total loss. I loved the fact that Johnson brought back Yoda (thankfully the non-CGI Yoda from Empire) and I thought the advice he gave Luke was timely. The Force tunnel between Rey and Kylo was a new use of the Force and allowed the two characters to bond and show some of their weaknesses. Thank god Adam Driver is in this film. He brings sympathy to Kylo’s struggle, showing the character’s turmoil to make the right choices in light of masters who betray him. The hyperspace attack by Laura Dern’s character Vice Admiral Holdo was visually stunning and gloriously captured. The pinnacle of the movie was Rey and Kylo’s lightsaber fight with Snoke’s Praetorian guard and Kylo’s decision to stay in the Dark side immediately after. I don’t think there has been a more kickass fight in the history of Star Wars.

Sadly, these elements were not enough for me to enjoy The Last Jedi. By the end, I felt like the Resistance: beaten down with a poor outlook on the future. To be completely honest, I don’t care what happens to any of these characters in Episode IX. The Last Jedi sucked the fun out of Star Wars. Hopefully, Solo will win me back. If you enjoyed the film more than me, and want to read a positive review, Saul thoroughly enjoyed it. You can read his review here.

By Hagood Grantham

For trailer, see below.

Silence

Film Score: No Score-sese

I mean it, this film is getting nothing.

Silence is The Revenant with all the joy sucked out. It was directed by Martin Scorsese and stars Adam Driver and Andrew Garfield as Padre Garupe and Padre Rodrigues, 17th Century Jesuits on a quest to find their mentor, Padre Ferreira, in feudal Japan. They should have stayed in their monastery, for my sake.

I can stand a bad film like most people stomach a busy commuter train. It is an uncomfortable experience, but you try to zone out, checking your phone for notifications from friends you don’t have, and pray that things don’t get worse. Silence falls into the precipice where only terrible films dwell, taking sheer will and a firm grip on the armchair to not leave in disgust. Other people left quicker than Garfield’s tears from his eyes, leaving the cinema screen’s population to dwindle from a healthy 6 to half with another 50 minutes to go.

Ignoring the poorly feigned Portuguese accents of Driver and Garfield, we see the Jesuits, in search of their lost teacher, arrive in feudal Japan. This early scene, with mist swirling round a ramshackle village and dangerous cliffs, swallowing up the missionaries as the land ashore, invoked the land to be alien and hostile, reminiscent of Apocalypse Now. Instead of Driver and Garfield pressing on to find their Colonel Kurtz, fallen priest Ferreira, they become a bumbling pair of wrecks. Silence had potential in this one scene, but is a worse film because it falls below the expectations it creates and what is expected from Scorsese.

The plot followed an arc of crying, hiding, foetal positions, torture and more crying. Beginning slowly, the pace grinds to a tortuous trickling chain of conversations nestled between walking scenes in the Japanese countryside which were better suited to a See Japan video. I bore little sympathy for the Jesuits, or the Japanese, both were arrogant zealots in their own way, willing to shed innocent blood for their own cause. At least the Japanese nobles were far more honest, and did not shed tears. The conclusion was needless exposition lasting twenty draining minutes. Scorsese should have left that section on the cutting room floor. The film is supposed to be about the Christian meaning of finding faith through suffering.  The only people who suffer in Silence are the audience, and my faith in Scorcese was shaken.

Driver does a good job in a bad role. Watching Driver alongside Garfield, the film would have fared better if they had switched the two. Silence’s third act was a dull ribbon of montages between events and Garfield’s tears which snuffs out any remaining sympathy for the character. Neeson reprises Qui-Gon Jinn, with Jar Jar’s presence being replaced by actual torture.

Rogerebert.com and The Guardian have given Silence more favourable reviews, with Rogerebert.com lauding Silence as ‘a monumental work, and a punshing one’. Film, like literature, has to have a story. It may be an artistic triumph which punishes the audience, but if it fails to deliver a good story, it is still a failure. Reading reviews for Silence reminds me why I wanted to set up this blog. There is a disconnect between the wants of the film critic and the audience. Critics scour for originality and value ambition, while the audience just want a good story. If ordinary viewers wanted anything else, half of my fellow audience would not have left Silence.

Plot is my main focus in my reviews, because in the end, if you are not some art or film graduate, you are not going to the hottest avant-garde opus.

Target audience: 17th century Jesuits planning a visit to Japan and no-one else.

By Saul Shimmin

For the trailer, see below:

Paterson

Film Score: 5 out of 5 (Perfect)

Paterson (Adam Driver) is a bus driver who spends his spare moments conjuring up poetry, drawing his inspiration from the sleepy New Jersey town that bears his name. The film is a week in the life of Patterson, as he wrestles with his unwillingness to reveal his poetry to the world.

Paterson is an ode to the vibrancy of small-town America, tinged with nostalgia for a  past way of life.  Through the shared name, the protagonist is the embodiment of the town, warm, charming, and happy to stand apart from the modern world.  Driver’s character is from a different time, sporting a blue collar each day and a metal worker’s lunch box. He seems drawn from the idealised version of America’s working class of the 1950’s, just like the town around him. The plot satirises the generic tropes of Hollywood films, building up certain scenes to fit the formula of gun-fights and explosions, only to return to reality. These scenes are when Paterson is at its most endearing, proudly stating to the audience that an enjoyable story can be grounded in the everyday.

Paterson is not a prodigal poet who reels off soliloquises. Internal monologues reveal his repeated attempts to create new poems, while the camera over imposes his bus routine with images of where he finds inspiration. This overlapping of images is a credit to Frederick Elmes, the film’s cinematographer, as it smoothly conveys us between the town and Paterson’s thoughts. Witnessing Paterson struggle with his art adds to the realism of the film and makes the character even more likeable.

The film is a visual delight, comprised of a small range of scenes at certain locations which are repeated throughout the week in Paterson’s life. Every frame, from when Paterson wakes up next to his wife, Laura (Golshifteh Farahani), to his beer at Shade’s Bar after work, are composed with a beautiful geometry. The film’s colour scheme is a clash between Paterson’s wardrobe of black, blue, and white set against the black and white geometric patterns worn by his wife Laura. Through colour, composition, and montages, we see the town and the world through Paterson’s eyes. This clash of colours adds to the film’s composition, bestowing a simplistic beauty to every scene.

The film’s motif of pairs blends with the montage between Laura and Paterson’s respective routines, revealing their clashing creative approaches. Paterson is focused upon his poetry, yet he is stuck in a loop of self-doubt, mimicking his repetition of the same bus route. The camera cuts from Paterson’s bus route to Laura continuously reinventing her wardrobe and the house’s décor, seemingly uncaring of potential public criticism of her new ideas.

Both Driver and Farahani are utterly convincing as husband and wife, interacting with one another with the intimate affectations of a loving couple. All the actors involved in Paterson deliver a robust performance that brings life to their characters. My personal favourite was William Jackson Harper in the role of Everett, a local at Shade’s Bar who is highly strung, love-sick and unpredictable. Harper is able to render Everett sympathetic although his behaviour could easily be perceived as selfish and immature.

The film, from its acting to its cinematography, is a masterpiece which blurs the distinctions between the town, the poet, reality and imagination; culminating in a life-affirming statement from Jim Jarmusch that inspiration and beauty surround us in the mundane.

I hope that Amazon studios, which financed Paterson, will continue to support independent films which stray from the generic film formula.

By Saul Shimmin

Target audience: Art-house cinema lovers, Jim Jarmusch fans and older audiences who wish to watch something a bit different.

For the trailer see below: