Uni
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Posts posted by Uni
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I'm going to get hammered for going with the obvious, cliched moment here, but the Rebel theme rising at the first sight of the Falcon is an absolutely perfect moment.
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17 hours ago, Thor said:
And even if he will never pass Newman and Menken as most-winning composer, he beat them in the nomination department a long time ago. So does that -- in fact -- make Williams one of the biggest "losers" in Oscar history, relatively speaking?
Yep. Lowest winning percentage out there. Bad thing? Nah.
2 hours ago, nightscape94 said:Mainly what they're going to hear when they think about the new Star Wars is the opening crawl and think "been there, done that" and move on. They're probably not going to sit down and listen to the entire FYC album to find the 99% new music represented in the score. The Musical Branch already did the legwork by nominating it.
I don't think it's quite that simple. The voters in this category do know their film music, and I think they take the privilege of their vote seriously enough that they dutifully listen through their FYC copies. I do believe, however, that the (likely) single listen they give to the score will have them shrugging and thinking, "It's a Star Wars score. Good stuff, but Oscar-worthy. . . ?" They don't obsess over the deeper details and thematic connections like we do. I doubt it'll be enough to overcome the sentimental intertia that's likely going to carry Morricone to the win.
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5 minutes ago, nightscape94 said:
I'm also curious about a possible lifetime achievement Oscar. His awarded history notwithstanding it would seem weird not to give him recognition for his body of work and impact on film and film music.
I've thought about this a lot over the last few years as well. A Lifetime Achievement Award isn't something they give to just any artist, no matter how prolific or popular. But there's no overlooking the massive effect his work has had on the film industry over the last 40 years. It's not an overstatement in the least to say that we wouldn't have a lot of the music we love today if he hadn't incentivized directors, producers, and studios to push for bigger music scores for their large-scale movies. Jaws was the first summer blockbuster, meaning he was the first summer blockbuster composer. He showed (or, at the very least, reminded) everyone how to do it. He was central to defining the sound and presentation of film music in the last quarter of the 20th century.
If that sort of effort and repertoire doesn't deserve this award, what does. . . ?
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I briefly attempted to assess his chances of winning this year . . . then remembered how impossibly unpredictable this category has proven over the years. It's not like it has a long record of awarding the Oscar to the most worthy or deserving nominee. It's entirely possible John could win simply because the voters love the idea of casting for a Star Wars score. He may have no chance of winning because Morricone could prove the sentimental favorite. It could go to Newman for no better reason than he was stepping into Williams's shoes for BOS. Johann could take it home just because the voters will seem smarter if they rally around the guy with the coolest "composer" name. Or maybe Carter gets his first because . . . just because. (I guess you could make a good argument that this is perennially one of the most exciting categories because you never really know who's going to win until they open the envelope.)
Whatever happens, though, it's a great milestone for the Maestro, and so fitting that it does come for a score that's part of the franchise that gave him the opportunity to bring the big orchestra back to the big screen and influence the next couple of generations of film scores and film lovers. Congratulations!
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I'm absolutely shocked. I wasn't aware he was battling cancer. Devastating.
We just watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves a couple of weeks ago, and I said aloud (at the point when he kills Guy of Gisborne and says, "Well at least I didn't use a spoon!"), "No one does it better than Rickman." The way he chewed the scenery in every role was simply exquisite. When I think of all the roles he could've played in his later years. . . .
This year's "In Memoriam" montage on the Academy Awards is going to be one of the hardest ever to watch.
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53 minutes ago, Lhokne Mulb said:
Alex Jones and Alex Cremers are the same person, with the same opinions, apparently. Both keep rambling about how this movie is dumbed down! No depth! No subtlety!
I especially like the part in the review where they'd allegedly gotten hold of a CIA leak which revealed the government's plan to "dumb the country down" through popular media and movies like this. (In the prequel novels, that's exactly what Palpatine did so he could kick the Empire off without anyone giving a crap. . . .)
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Big news here, folks. The opening for the next film has already been leaked. (Major spoiler warning):
As the yellow words of the opening crawl vanish into the starfield, the camera descends through space. . . .
. . . and into the atmosphere of a planet. Snow-covered mountain peaks stretch into the distance. The camera continues downward, panning in slow circles as it moves through rocky crags blanketed in white. Voices can be heard echoing from a distance, the words not entirely clear. A massive, dark structure is revealed below, and the shot turns toward it as it grows closer, larger, until finally the POV reaches it's gleaming metal surface . . . then passes directly through, down through layers of steel, wires, and piping, before emerging above a narrow catwalk spanning a circular chasm.
Two figures stand near its center. One, a young man robed in black, says, "I need you to help me do something." The other, an aged, scruffy-looking man, says, "Anything." Suddenly, a sizzling, chaotic beam of red ignites and passes through the older man's midsection. He grimaces, then reaches up to touch the young man's face. A Wookie standing on a walkway above throws his head back and howls in anger and grief. The blade of light vanishes as instantly as it appeared. The older man sways . . . then topples off into the abyss.
The camera races after him, following him as he tumbles downward into the depths. He's still alive somehow, clutching his abdomen. Something moves just below him. His blaster pistol, having fallen out of its holster, is spinning in the air nearby. He reaches out and takes it. As he passes deeper and deeper, the light from below grows brighter. He passes structures seething with energy that jut from the sides of the chasm. On a hunch, he points his blaster and begins to fire. The red bolts pierce the towers. Flashes of heat and blinding light burst in their wake. As they recede into the air above him, several buckle, twist, and explode. Others he hasn't shot at begin to detonate as well. He's done it. He's started a chain reaction. . . .
The view cuts to a long shot in an enormous, domed room. The tiny figure of Han's body emerges from the emptiness above, falling slowly toward the reactor in the center. Flashes and fire begin to burst from the surrounding walls as the entire structure begins to self-destruct. Succumbing at last, Han's eyes close as he disappears into the flood of white light eminating from the gigantic core--
--and Rey flinches hard as she wakes up on the ground near the Jedi Temple. Just a dream. Or perhaps . . . a vision? Could it have been Han who caused the destruction of the Starkiller. . . ?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Okay, that's not really the leaked opening for Ep. VIII. (I was jess kiddin'). Nothing more than a harmless bit of derivative fun. But try playing that sequence out in your mind's eye while listening to "Glamdring." Just try it. I did, and got goosebumps the size of golf balls. . . .
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Wow. Didn't realize your reason for the post at first. It's been 40 years this morning, hasn't it? That's means it was 40 years ago yesterday that Martin Scorcese introduced a young Steven Spielberg (still reveling in the success of Jaws) to the man, the same day he finished the recording sessions for Taxi Driver. 'Tis the season. . . .
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3 hours ago, leeallen01 said:
Lucas specifically says he wrote a story which became too long and he split it into 3 acts, and the first act became the first film. You see old footage of him with the full story and then using only the first third initially. You can't argue with video evidence. He had the Original Trilogy all planned. He hadn't written the entire scripts, but the story was all mapped out to a decent degree.
First off, you can argue with "video evidence," especially when said evidence is just a guy recalling how things happened. Lucas has memory issues when it comes to this story (or else he's just summing it up so briefly that it doesn't really give the best picture of how it happened). The original treatment and scripts have been making the rounds for years now. His first treatment--Adventures of the Starkiller (yes, that's where they got the name)--told the tale of General Luke Skywalker, who used the FORCE OF OTHERS when he wielded his laser sword, as he goes on galactic adventures with two "bickering bureaucrats." It's nothing at all like any of the Star Wars movies.
By the time he'd reached the second draft of his initial script, everything had changed . . . but it still bore little resemblance to the movies we know. Some of the elements are there, though they're mixed up--they attempt to rescue the princess in the Imperial capital, which is a "city in the clouds"--but it's not the "first act" of a longer story, and it certainly isn't epic enough to split into a trilogy. It's also some of the worst writing you'll ever see, something that hadn't much improved three decades later when Lucas went back to writing his own scripts for the prequels.
Lucas probably had a large galactic myth in mind when he tried to lay the story out, and there's evidence that some of the ingredients were there from fairly early on. But I promise you he hadn't "planned" anything to the extent you're talking about. He He had some ideas for where the story could go if the first film worked out well enough to beg for a sequel, but that's about it.
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For folks who are getting serious about collecting film scores, who've amassed a good pool of music from the big names over the last 30 years or so (Williams, Goldsmith, Horner, Zimmer, Barry, Silvestri, etc.), and are starting to think on expanding their horizons back toward the Golden Age of Hollywood, Bernard Herrmann could be seen as a natural first step (actually, Miklós Rózsa might be better, but this isn't the place for that discussion. . . .
). He didn't compose for nearly as many films as many of his colleagues (past, present, and future), but his legacy is indelible. He became infamous for three things: his remarkable skill as a composer and orchestrator (for such classic movies as Citizen Kane, The Day the Earth Stood Still, and Cape Fear), his collaboration with director Alfred Hitchcock (Herrmann would score his most well-known films), and his abrasive, temperamental personality.
He insisted on total creative control of his scores. He always orchestrated his own music (thought it was insane to allow anyone else to do it). In spite of his caustic personality, he was capable of a great vast range of emotion in his works, romantic, adventurous, sly, chaotic, and intense. No question he was a master of the art form.
Anyone looking to give him a try should probably start with his Hitchcock scores, particularly North by Northwest, Vertigo, and especially Psycho. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is a gorgeously romantic score. His Ray Harryhausen adventure films, such as The 7th Voyage of Sinbad and Journey to the Center of the Earth, are great fun as well.
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I've since learned that the destroyed planet wasn't Coruscant (though they don't make much of an effort in the movie to make that clear). Once I got that whole thing down, I wasn't really up for an intensive round of revisions. While we're on it, though, I'm also not sure why they felt the heart of the New Republic needed to be on a different, city-covered planet. . . .
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All right, folks. Strap yourselves in. I've been warming up for this for days. . . .
Some of you have seen me uncork some long posts here in the past; I believe this may be my longest ever. Since seeing the movie on Saturday, I’ve been processing it, and I’ve been writing this as I go. Bear in mind I’d put most of it this down before starting to read other people’s reactions in this thread and other places, so it’ll no doubt repeat some points others have made before. It’s also a self-contained assessment of the movie, and not done in response to anything I’ve read from anyone else. (That will come later. . . .)
Like so many others, I’ve been waiting for this movie in the high hopes that it would return the franchise to the place it belongs—a cinematic mythology, complete with larger-than-life (and often hard-to-swallow) characters and actions. People talk about the “magic” of Star Wars, and however you quantify or define that, there’s no question it existed in the OT . . . and no question it was completely lacking in the PT. Most of us just wanted that back. We’d take whatever else came along with it, warts and all, but just give us a whiff of that elusive quality that gave us so much joy as kids.
I had real faith in J.J.’s ability to pull it off. I enjoyed his Star Trek reboots—yes, warts and all—even if I don’t really give it anywhere near the credibility of the previously-established ST canon. The man knows how to make a good, fun movie, and that’s what Star Wars has always been, more than anything else. I figured he was the guy who could make this happen.
And y’know what? I was right.
TFA is just about everything I hoped it would be, and probably a little bit more. It’s one of those movies where there’s so much to like about it that the shortcomings (and there are indeed several) don’t make enough of an impact to turn things in a significantly negative direction. I know that with what follows I’m opening myself fully to the label of “fanboy” (an epithet I detest), but I see no reason to pretend I liked the movie less than I did just to stroke the egos of folks who hold themselves “above all that.”
There’s so much I want to touch on, and as usual I find it easier to lay them out as separate points rather than trying to fit them all into a smoothly-transitioning narrative essay. So this isn’t a review. It’s a stream-of-consciousness reflection.
Let’s kick it off with the positive or generally interesting stuff:
- One of the biggest questions, naturally, was about the new cast. Could they bring some of that magic back? That’s a solid yes. I was able to buy into this story because of the skill the actors showed in portraying their characters. I wanted to know more about these people, and I wanted to see what was going to happen to them. That’s the entire point, isn’t it?
A few specifics on the new frontliners:- John Boyega wound up winning me over. I was ambivalent about the character based on what I’d seen (in the couple of trailers I allowed myself to watch), but his desperation, his nervous energy, his willingness to let out a heartfelt whoop when things were going his way, all made him very likeable. I had the tiniest smidgen of a problem with the idea of a man who had been “programmed from birth” to be a soldier under a very specific regime suddenly growing a conscience and doing such a sudden turnabout, and then blossoming into the person he so quickly became. Again, I liked that person, but it’s a little hard to buy that someone in that situation would go from brainwashed Nazi to goofy, fidgety post-teen in so short a time.
- I really liked what we saw of Poe, though I wish we could’ve seen more. His line near the beginning, when facing his interrogator—“Do I talk first? Do you talk first? How does this work?”—sold me instantly. So did the buddy chemistry between him and Finn during their escape. When they saw each other again and felt the compulsion to embrace later in the film, it was a completely believable moment, even though in practical terms they’d only known each other in person for about half an hour. I can see how his disappearance for a fair length of time was necessary to the story (it was important for Finn’s character arc to think the man who’d engineered his escape had died in the attempt), and I’m satisfying myself that we’re going to get more of him in the next two films.
- I have yet to read a poor review of Daisy Ridley’s performance, and I hardly intend to break the streak. My biggest fear for her is that she’ll be marked by this franchise and have a hard time getting work after this, but that kind of thing is less likely in this day and age than it was back in the days of the OT. She makes the most of every moment she’s given, as the gangly, innocent youth too small for an X-Wing pilot’s helmet, as the excitable gal caught up in a new adventure, as the lonely, confused young woman waiting in vain for a return that’s never coming, as the frightened visionary shown a power she doesn’t understand, and as the courageous heroine who makes a conscious choice to take hold of that power and use it for the benefit of herself and her friends. It’s a breakout performance.
Also, I did as much spoiler-avoidance as possible heading into this, because I love seeing movies blind. I didn’t even watch all of the trailers, because I know how my mind works, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to resist speculation. This happened to some degree anyway, and I now feel a sense of gratitude toward the promotional team for understanding how people like me think and deliberately throwing in some misdirection. I’d seen the shot of Finn holding the lightsaber, so I just naturally figured he was going to be the new Jedi-dude in this one. I hadn’t allowed my brain to even move in the direction of Rey being the one who was strong with the Force, so as the movie progressed and more hints of this were revealed, I was very pleasantly surprised to find that she, not Finn, would be The One. Her gradual evolution toward an understanding of her gifts was done very well, and added a level of enjoyment I hadn’t expected at all.
[On that note, however . . . I desperately hope she is NOT related to anyone we already know. If she turns out to be a daughter of Han and Leia or (worse still) Luke, I’ll be sorely disappointed. We already have enough family fun going on in the galaxy. The thing with Ben Solo worked, but another iteration would severely cross the line into cliché, especially in this universe.]- Adam Driver hit just about all the right notes as well, given that he was handed what could be the most difficult task in the movie—creating a movie villain somewhat along the lines of a Darth Vader without being Darth Vader. And the result was excellent. Instead of the huge, dark, overbearingly evil presence of Vader we got used to in ANH and TESB, we get a smaller, darkish, somewhat evil presence who certainly possesses strength and power but brings other elements along with it. Petulance. Conflict. Instability—not because he’s insane, but simply because he’s still a child in many ways. This is Anakin as he never was, and, in a sense, Vader as we never saw him, too. The idea that the character of Anakin, with all his fits and whining starts, could seamlessly transition into the stolid and immovable form of Vader was one of the least believable aspects of the PT. Here we get the missing piece filled in, and I found it fascinating . . . and funny, and compelling, and understandable, too. And the idea of a character being tempted to the light side is even more interesting. The pull always seems to be going the other way, doesn’t it? (And not just in Star Wars.) I knew Kylo Ren would be someone significant to the classic story; as long as it didn’t turn out to be Luke (or Jar-Jar, of course), I was okay with that. I wasn’t expecting it to be Han and Leia’s boy, but it was a great choice and made for a much more believable situation—maybe one that you’d have to be a parent to fully understand.
- As for those returning from the OT, the character reveals—all but one, that is—were pretty awesome across the board. My favorite was the Falcon, something I honestly didn’t see coming in that moment. (If Rey had said “That one’s a piece of junk!” we would’ve known too soon. Again, J.J. knows how to play these things.) Han’s and Chewie’s was spoiled a bit by the trailer, but it still was fun. Threepio did his usual thing, without making us sit through an entire movie of it, and that was nice. Leia’s fell just a little flat . . . but then, so did she, at least for me. But I was expecting that to some degree. The years have not been kind to Carrie Fisher, and I went in with pretty low expectations. I think J.J. found a way to get the best he could from her, and there were a couple of nice glimpses of the Alderaanian princess in there, but I don’t personally think she could’ve done much more than she did. (I loved her “And don’t say the Death Star!” line.)
- On that subject: The one prediction I allowed myself for this movie was that Luke wouldn’t be revealed until the end, or near the end. I thought he might intercede at some point, maybe during the lightsaber battle, but more likely he would suddenly show up at Resistance HQ with some dire report of a new darkness arising somewhere in the galaxy. I wasn’t expecting the way it actually turned out, but it worked. It’s just this side of a cliffhanger, because it leaves you desperate to know what happens in the conversation that follows. (Hamill must’ve had a ball at the read-through, huh?)
- The effects were simply amazing. There were only a few noticeable cracks throughout (more on those later). But they weren’t just great in their realization, they were great in their application. J.J. understood that the advances in technology would allow him to do things that the OT simply couldn’t pull off, and I loved how he layered them into the setting and story so seamlessly. A few instances: Rey pushing the Falcon over belly-up so Finn could take out the TIE Fighter. The effect of repulsorlifts on water. The aerial battles made to look like real dogfights, not just video games. TIE Fighers emerging from the flames of a setting sun (soooooo cool). Lots of others as well.
And one more thing I’ve really grown to like about J.J.: his love of scale. We knew, on a cerebral level, that the Death Star was the size of a “small moon,” but aside from a shot or two (such as the Falcon pulling into the docking bay), we never really got a sense of what that meant. That the “forest moon” of Endor dwarfed the second Death Star—which was allegedly bigger than the first—made things even more confusing. I’d seen the shot of the Starkiller (the name’s another nice nod to the story’s legacy that preceded ALL of the movies) in the promotional material, so I knew there was some sort of new superbig-planet-destroyer in the works, but I had no idea at the start of the scene when the armies of the First Order are gathered on the surface of that snowy planet that they were actually standing on the Starkiller itself. And then to see them turn and watch the primary weapon lighting up the horizon . . . that was just pure cool. It was really the first time we got the sense of how big these things are. I think J.J. delights in the hugeness of all this (which, no doubt, was originally inspired by things like Star Destroyers and the Death Star), and being a fan of this kind of hugeness myself, I never mind joining in his delight and wonder along the way.
- There are so many things J.J. got right that Lucas missed altogether in his prequelistic attempts, but two stand tall above everything else. First, J.J. understands one of the shortest, but most important, rules about storytelling: Show, don’t tell. At every opportunity, use the actors’ performances and details of setting and timing to explain what we need to know. Do NOT use exposition if it can be avoided by any means fair or foul. The PT was an excruciating workshop in immersive exposition because Lucas didn’t trust his audience to be able to read even the simplest of subtleties, and therefore felt it necessary to have every character say every damn thing that came to mind concerning their current situation, the history of their situation, the meaning behind their situation, why their situation was good or bad or bewildering, what might happen in their situation if they took steps to change their situation, ad nauseam until we were all overwhelmed with nauseam.
A good director knows better, and J.J. is a good director. Take, for instance, the scene in which Kylo Ren tries to extract the information out of Rey’s mind. J.J.’s already set up the scene by having him do the same to Poe earlier, demonstrating that it’s a fairly easy process given Ren’s skills. This time, though, it’s not so easy . . . but instead of the running commentary we would’ve been subjected to under Lucas’s direction, these two go at it for a good couple of minutes without saying a word—and yet you can see every beat of the conflict as it happens: the growing resistance in Rey’s face, the increasing struggle in Ren’s, and the point when the flow reverses, even though we still had no confirmation at that point of Rey’s gifting in the Force. It’s a moment of revelation for the audience—and it’s beautifully accomplished, because J.J. invited us simply to sit in and learn everything for ourselves, rather than having a narrator whisper the significance of everything into our ears.
This worked on the larger level as well, concerning the current state of the galaxy, and some of its characters. J.J. spends almost no time explaining anything about the First Order (aside from the obligatory mention in the opening crawl), the demeanor of the New Republic, the genesis of the Resistance, or people like Snoke and the FO Admiral (don’t remember his name right off) and others who are now on the scene. He sticks to the ANH approach of starting things off in the middle of the story without succumbing to the temptation of having characters talk to one another about stuff they’re all aware of already just so we can catch up (the textbook definition of “exposition”). It’s been 30 years since the victory at Endor. Stuff has happened. We knew it would. We don’t need to hear about all of it. I actually enjoyed that J.J. stuck small details in—Threepio’s red arm, for instance—without expounding on how it all got there. It’s a simple and very effective way of showing, not telling that a lot of water has passed under the bridge since we last visited this galaxy far, far away, and we don’t have to know the story behind every story to know some story has happened.
- The second—and even more important (in my mind)—way that J.J. outdid Lucas boils down to a single word: passion. It’s amazing what we in the audience can be made to believe once we’re convinced the characters we’re watching believe it, right down to their core. Intensity of performance can cover a multitude of sins, and draw us into a story we might otherwise view with a fair amount of skepticism. The PT was altogether bereft of authentic passion; what little they attempted to summon at times was so badly misplayed that it undermined the weak effort to begin with. I could list a thousand examples, but one is just as good as any other: When Anakin informs Mace Windu that he believes Palpatine is a Sith Lord, Windu responds (in the same wooden delivery Jackson favored throughout), “A. Sith. Lord?” “Yup.” “Then we must move quickly if the Jedi Order is to survive.” He says this in the same tone he might’ve used if he were informing Anakin that he’s just made the switch to decaffeinated coffee . . . and then the two of them “move quickly” off the screen at a slow walking pace. The Jedi Order is facing extinction. The fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance. Yet for all their stated rush and resolve, they head off like they’re going to check their email. There was never any sense of urgency in these films, and they suffered horribly as a result.
Not so here. The intensity, urgency, and passion the characters portray are unmistakable. Think of Finn and Poe in the TIE Fighter, Finn and Rey in the Falcon, Finn watching Poe flying his X-Wing during the battle on [whatever planet that was], Rey reacting to . . . pretty much everything, and even Kylo Ren struggling against the temptation to come back to the light. These people didn’t discuss their passion with one another, as Anakin did with Padme, to no good end for any of us. They put it out there on screen with palpable intensity, and it made you root for them as a result.
That translated directly into the action in several places, perhaps most notably in the lightsaber duels. I had a very brief issue with someone (Finn) who wasn’t trained in the Force being able to face off against various enemies using a lightsaber. Then I realized how short-sighted I was being. A lightsaber is a weapon, in the end not really all that different than any other. Someone who’s able to tap into a mystical power that aids their actions might demonstrate a stronger ability with it, but a trained soldier can pick up a sword and hold his own in a normal hack-and-slash battle. It’s likely he could even do fairly well against someone with that mystical power, at least for a few minutes, parrying and swinging the way he’d been taught with a regular weapon. So I was able to buy into the duels here, in part because of that train of thought, but even more because they were alive with passion. All the players fought with a mix of visible anger, desperation, and vengeance. No overchoreographed dances, lacking any sign of feelings, here. These engagements recalled Luke’s outburst against Vader in ROTJ, and were gripping to watch as a result.
- I thought they inserted just enough cute OT references to make things fun without becoming an annoyance, and for the most part they were a lot of fun. It’s kind of an obligatory thing with a movie like this, so it’s inevitable, but they can be done in a bad way and eventually become a headache. They all worked well enough here, I think. The one that might have crossed the line just barely was Finn’s discovery of the remote in the Falcon. Not that he found it—that would’ve been fine, and just as fun—but his reaction to it. Why that look? It wasn’t necessary, and didn’t make sense (it’s just one more piece of junk on an old freighter).
- Then, of course, there’s the score. I won’t say much on this, because it’ll be handled in more depth and much better in other places, but it worked better for me than the PT scores did, for two reasons. First, the latter works were dragged down by the material that inspired them, and to which they were inevitably linked. Also, though, I don’t think I realized back in those days that the new scores weren’t just competing against the quality of the OT scores; they were competing against their familiarity. The new just didn’t quite sound like the old, which wasn’t very fair to the new, because what could? This time I was prepared for that, and the music made a much better impression. The frequent (and well-placed) references to the OT material didn’t hurt, but I enjoyed the new stuff as well—particularly Rey’s theme, which is the best JW’s given us in years. It beautifully summarizes all the varied elements of the heroine’s character. It’s the theme of a tinkerer, but also of a wonderer, and an adventurer, and—in the end—of a Jedi in the making. Great stuff.
- I think it’s time to talk about what will no doubt be a central point of discussion (particularly here): the way this movie pretty much pulls a redo of the original Star Wars movie (with a few elements of TESB and ROTJ thrown in for good measure). Lessee here: it starts with a droid with secret intelligence joining up with a Force-gifted hero on a desert planet before heading into space on a certain Corellian freighter in order to join up with the revolution against a domineering dictatorship bent on absolute control that uses an ultimate weapon that destroys planets but contains a small design flaw that allows someone flying a single fighter to destroy it and win the day. If you blinked during the movie, you might miss the subtle parallels hidden in there, but yeah . . . this was as close to a reboot as you could get without actually restarting the computer. Thing is, I found myself not minding so much as I was watching it. Which was a little bewildering. My left brain was saying, You do realize this is exactly what you’ve seen before, right? My right brain answered, Shut up. This is fun! It wasn’t quite that simple though, and it made for an interesting puzzle . . . one I had fortunately solved by the end of the movie to the satisfaction of both sides of my brain.
I think the reason the movie was such a blast, that it was able to bring that magic back so easily, is precisely because it reflected the story of the earlier films so precisely. But it wasn’t just a rehash of the same material; in a way, it was a translation of it. It was as if J.J. was putting the original story through a process that effectively updated it and turned it into what Star Wars would’ve been like if it had first been made in today’s Hollywood, like giving us a straight-up “that was then, this is now” comparison of the same story. He was able to recreate the feel of the OT while giving it the look and pacing of a contemporary sci-fi action flick. There’s no way to know now, of course, but I honestly think if they’d gone in a completely different direction with this that it would’ve felt more like the PT: a story in a different place and time that happened to have X-Wings and TIE Fighters in it, but that wasn’t really and truly a Star Wars movie. In a very real sense, this movie isn’t much more than a prelude to the other two. It’s just setting everything up, giving us the “Our Story So Far” introduction to the larger epic to come. It did it in a great, engaging, involving way, but that’s all it really is—and, ultimately, that’s all ANH ever was, too. It was a very simple story that introduced us to a setting and characters that would be realized on a much broader and more dramatic level in the movies that followed. Nothing complicated . . . but a whole lotta fun to watch.
So I made my peace with that, and let it be—with one caveat: that grace extends to precisely one film. We’ve had our translation, we understand where we are compared to where we were, and now it’s time to move onward and upward. If the next movie shows us Luke taking Rey to a swampier area of the Jedi Temple world in order to train her in the Force while Finn and Chewie attempt to escape the vengeance First Order by flying the Falcon into an asteroid field, I will not be so forgiving. I honestly have no worries about that at this point, though. And a lot of that comes from knowing J.J. won’t be directing any more movies. I think he did a great job with what he was given . . . but just as it worked so well for the OT, I think multiple directors and approaches will benefit this trilogy as well.
I might’ve missed a few things, but that’s an overall impression of what I thought worked in the movie. I did not view it through a rainbow-colored lens with a completely uncritical mind, though. And there were a few things that not only didn’t work well, but didn’t work at all for me. For the sake of balance:
- Easily the worst, most misplayed and unforced error on the parts of J.J. and his crew was the jaw-dropping awfulness of Snoke. Starting with that name—I know SW carries a reputation for weird and slightly off-kilter names, but could they possibly have found a less menacing moniker than this?—and following all the way through the execution and “performance” of the character, this was a galactic failure (pun intended). In a movie that boasted a return to practical effects, and did so well pulling it off, a completely CGI character comes off in much the same way a theremin solo in every piece of the score would’ve. He looked nothing so much as a half-assed guest appearance from a Pixar movie. And having an animated character shown only through a hologram doubled down on the silliness. (On that note . . . how is it he was able to “hide” his face in the shadows of the room for dramatic effect if he’s a projection? Dumb. Just dumb.) After the presence of Palpatine, this is such a poor substitute that I can only marvel at J.J.’s misfire here. What’s the point? Why not just have the bad guys in this movie refer to the Supreme Leader who’s out there somewhere, and keep us guessing as to how terrible His Terribleness must be? Of course, that would’ve been a buildup that this character never would’ve lived up to in his present state, but it could be hoped that they would come to their senses before the release of Ep. VIII. It’s just too bad they didn’t find wisdom before now.
- The Rathtars. That’s the single FX sequence too far, the square peg, the one thing that didn’t fit into this movie at all. They were badly rendered, groan-inducing, and unnecessary to story. Han and Chewie were following up on a lead in their search for the Falcon, which is why they were “coincidentally” in the Jakku system. They had a freighter that apparently had a tractor beam, so they could grab their ship once they found it. Even their run-in with the other pirates who’d been pursuing them was all right (Han’s hesitation, followed by the line, “What was the second time?” was subtly one of his funniest moments in the movie). But the creature-feature that followed fell on its face. It would’ve been so much better to see the characters outsmart their adversaries in this scene and escape in a more conventional way.
- I said earlier that most every OT character reveal was awesome, except one. That “one” was R2-D2. What a baffling waste. The initial moment of reveal was so random as to disappoint right from the start. BB-8 just rolls up and pulls the blanket off of him. Why? No reason given. He just does it because it has to be done. It’s a (badly) scripted moment. (How much better would it have been, for instance, if BB-8 catches a glint of metal as he passes a dark closet, stops, rolls back, and finds Artoo sitting neglected in a corner? Makes much more sense, and gives us a better feel for his latent state than the idea that his friends threw a blanket over him.) And he serves no other purpose in the movie than to wake up suddenly at the end—again, for no good reason whatsoever—and provide the detail they’ve been missing through the whole story. It’s not quite a deus ex machina, but when the machina randomly activates itself solely to show everyone where their ex-deus is, it pretty much amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?
- I mentioned earlier that I appreciate J.J.’s sense of scale. However, it does go a bit too far at times. The boy sure does like showing us planets being destroyed from the perspective of those standing on nearby planets, doesn’t he? This is a problem in this case for a couple of reasons. First, it’s a retread from ST (and this time it’s not a good one). Second . . . it requires that the world they’re on, where they find Maz and the lightsaber ‘n’ all, is not only in the same system as Coruscant, but must also be one of its moons. That’s the only way they’d be close enough to see the destruction. But the shot doesn’t just pulverize Coruscant, it takes out several other planets/moons in the vicinity as well. So why didn’t Maz’s planet/moon get the same treatment? Again, if they’re close enough to see from ground level, they’re not much further away than our own moon—and there’s no reason to think the First Order would’ve been so discriminating when doling out that kind of destruction. Maz’s planet would’ve been in the same region as the other worlds that got taken out, and would’ve suffered the same fate.
- So just before Rey can deliver the killing blow to Ren, the ground just happens to break apart in a line perpendicular to the way they’re facing each other, and then collapses in on itself and pulls apart violently without upheaving the ground they’re each standing on, so that they’re now separated but able to see each other across this new divide? Really? C’mooooonnnnn. . . .
There were probably a few other issues, but none of these were enough to detract from the overall experience of the movie. And that’s what made it so great, the thing that made the OT movies so great in their own time: they were an experience. Not necessarily great plots executed with sizzling deftness, or marvels of cinematography and screenwriting. They were phenomenal experiences, and that’s what this movie was. It felt like a Star Wars movie, and that’s really all I was hoping for.
I have one more subject to discuss (more like process aloud) here. It’s the most important element in the movie, a huge part of what made it work and what made it so deeply affecting for me personally: Harrison Ford as Han Solo. Let’s start back a good 20 years ago, long before KOTCS and the prequels were visited upon us. Ford did a T.V. interview in which he was asked whether he would ever consider reprising his role as Han Solo. He made a diplomatically sour face and said it wasn’t likely, because “there isn’t much character there.” That made sense to me; by the time ROTJ rolled around, he was forced to mold the smuggler character into a happier, campier, responsible-leader role, and you can tell by his overacting and forced line readings it didn’t suit him well. He was then asked whether he’d go back to being Indy. His immediate response: “In a New York minute.” He said they were just waiting for everyone’s schedules to line up so they could do another one.
Fast forward ten years or so. Everyone’s schedules lined up, and they did another one. And you know what the results were. Ironically, Ford’s performance in KOTCS wound up being just as stilted and forced as it had been in ROTJ. Sadly, and in his own words, there just wasn’t much character there. It didn’t help that the story—provided by our old buddy George Lucas!—sucked big time, but it wasn’t just that. His age was so noticeable, and so . . . uncomfortable. It just wasn’t the same any more, and it was awkward and discouraging to have to watch the result.
So fast forward another ten years or so. Now Ford’s finally been talked into reprising the role he spurned for so long. He’s another ten years older, which should make it that much more uncomfortable, right? Which leads to the real miracle here, one we probably could only realize through having to endure KOTCS, the PT, and everything else in the years between: Harrison Ford is remarkable in this movie. His age here somehow isn’t the handicap it was in KOTCS, even though the nerfherder is that much scruffier now than he would’ve been a decade ago. He manages to overcome what was his biggest undermining factor in KOTCS by proving himself wrong: there IS character here after all. Ford brings that character back and uncannily plays exactly the way he did in the first film and TESB, so effectively that you know he’s Han Solo. I mean, really, Ford is not a wide-range kind of actor; he’s always playing some subtle variation of himself onscreen, so that even his “stretches” (as in, say, Regarding Henry) are only a small step further away from his own personality. But he staked his claim on his career with Han before he became Indy, and the two are different enough to distinguish as onscreen personas. Now he’s now come full circle by successfully reprising the part he used to sneer at, after coming up short in the role he tended to favor. Interesting how life works sometimes. . . .
And it’s how he re-established Solo as a vital character that I loved most. I was thinking he would be something of a relic in this movie, occupying space as a callback to the OT but not making a big difference in the bigger picture. But not only did he play a significant part in the unfolding story, he became its anchor and identity to a larger degree than I would’ve dreamed. I didn’t just see a guy collecting a paycheck by giving the audience his scruffy mug one last time. I saw (and recognized) the man who started so long ago as a cynical, atheistic rogue, who eventually learned to value things that didn’t benefit himself alone, who grew into a reluctant leader in love with another leader, whose life at one point was nearly taken away but returned by the friends he came to respect and admire more than himself. We last saw him as he prepared to enter the new life he’d earned after all his efforts. We now find him on the run from that life, escaping back into the territory that was once so familiar and comfortable to him (but with only marginal success). As much as he wants to hide in the past because the present has become so painful, however, he’s a different man than the one who used to hang out in the cantina on Tatooine. He’s not quite as cynical, and he doesn’t even attempt to remain the atheist. He’s seen firsthand what the Force can do—the good, and the very, very bad—and he can’t deny the truth of it. He can avoid Leia, because he thinks she doesn’t want to see him; but when he learns Luke might be in trouble, he can’t walk away.
He shows that Han Solo had more faces than perhaps any of us thought, and after a lifetime he’s able to interchange them now with relative, if reluctant, ease: the wisecracking smuggler, the dashing but improvising hero, the charming heartbreaker, the responsible leader, and so on. He even adds a couple more for good measure, the space-savvy mentor and the devastated but still-loving father. There’s plenty of character here indeed, and Ford throws it all out there in one more unabashed turn in the role that made him a megastar. It was a great thing to watch, and as I said, it gave the film the centerpiece it needed to stay on course.
At one point a while back, I considered it a very good possibility that he would be killed off in this movie, possibly even very early in the going. It was another interview that made me think otherwise. He told USAToday last week that he used to always believe his character would die in ROTJ, since a bold sacrifice on his part would bring an end to a fantastically dramatic arc, considering where Solo began. I figured he wouldn’t be talking that way if he were on the chopping block in this movie. It would be giving too much away, right? I don’t know if that was another deliberate attempt at misdirection, but I felt reasonably secure that he would make it at least through TFA.
When he saw his son, and called out his name (“Ben”—no greater proof that he had long since come to believe in the power and importance of the Force), then headed out onto the walkway, I thought, No. Really? They’re gonna do it? I figured maybe this was yet ANOTHER bit of misdirection. There was a good chance he was about to join Luke in the Lost Appendage Club, but I still thought he’d walk away from this. In the end, my spoiler avoidance combined with my inherent naiveté allowed me to experience what came next with at least some sense of surprise (though still not that much, unfortunately). But I was at least able to comprehend the shock they wanted me to feel, and that was enough. Chewie’s howl pierced me. The moment when he reached up and touched his son’s face—almost grateful, in a sense, to be released from all of this—was moving as well. Like I said, it wasn’t completely unexpected, but it wasn’t easy to watch.
What did surprise me is how it lingered with me after the movie was over. I’ve written extensively in the past on this board about my experience seeing Empire Strikes Back for the first time during its opening weekend. As an boy of a mere eight years, I really struggled with the bittersweetness of the thing. I mean, the movie was friggin’ awesome, but it introduced me to things I’d never experienced before. In my mind, it was unheard of for an epic adventure movie like that to end without complete resolution. To have witnessed the amputation of Luke’s hand, the revelation of his relationship with the galaxy’s biggest villain, and to see another bad guy get away with another one of my heroes in his grip was entirely new ground to me. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.
But hey, that was 35 years ago. I was eight then. Now I’m . . . older (stop calculating in your mind, dammit), and I’ve seen a lot more epic dramas with many more difficult resolutions to cope with than what TESB gave us. Why should this have so profound an effect on me?
It took me a while, but I finally hit on it: just like that eight-year-old in the theater, I was dealing with something I’ve never experienced before.
I first saw SW when I was 5. So it’s literally one of the earliest cinematic experiences of my life (that I can still remember, anyway). The story’s been with me all that time . . . and so have the characters. When we used to play Star Wars on the school playground (on that perfect wooden representation of the interior of the Death Star!), we all fought over the chance to be Han. We liked Luke ‘n’ all, but it was one thing to be the boyish hero; it was something else altogether to get to be the cool guy. Han was where it was at, and even at that age, everyone knew it. We wanted to save the princess, have a Wookie for a partner, and fly the Millenium Falcon off to the far corners of the galaxy.
So this is literally the first time I’ve witnessed the screen death of a hero that’s been in my lexicon literally my entire life. It was an odd thing to deal with emotionally, but it only gave me that much more appreciation for the tapestry this mythology has woven in our modern culture.
Now, that’s not to say I’m battling depression now or anything. It was an effective screen death that meant something to me beyond just this movie. And again, it’s a completely unique event brought to me by J.J. and friends, and one more thing that made this movie something special.
So I’m giving it a full five stars. It’s the first SW movie to exceed in quality one of the OT films (ROTJ, which was incredible when I was eleven but has diminished in the years since). Even with its flaws, this is an authentically great movie.
Why? One more thing I remember from those early moviegoing days: Star Wars was always best as a Saturday matinee, seen during the afternoon so you could spend the rest of the day and evening dreaming of adventures in distant galaxies. And I still recall how it felt, every time, like I’d literally left this planet for a couple of hours and visited the far end of the universe. I always left the theater feeling like I’d been through something, and life was just a little bit different on the other side. It lingered with me. For all the nice things I can say about Star Wars: The Force Awakens, this is the highest praise I can think to offer: it lingered with me. I felt like I’d left Earth for a couple of hours. Life was just a little different on the other side.
So does that make me a “fanboy?”
Maybe.
If this is the payoff, I think can live with that.
- Muad'Dib, Dixon Hill, ins and 1 other
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1 hour ago, Bespin said:
Is Han Solo really dead? (I don't think)
If they were to attempt to bring him back in one of the later films, it would ruin everything they accomplished with this one. No one--least of all J.J., who's still at the helm on these movies (even if he's not directing)--is that knuckleheaded. Well, except maybe Lucas himself, but we can all be grateful there will be no SE's of this trilogy which will attempt to bring Solo back through some sort of CGI "magic" (and against Ford's wishes).
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Saw it. Loved it. Further comments reserved for the spoilers-allowed thread.
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29 pages already. Gawd. Having seen the movie (unexpectedly) on opening weekend, I thought I'd be able to do a quick read-up on people's impressions before offering my own. Not to be. I may just have to do my own write-up and respond to everyone else's later. . . .
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Tickets purchased for Saturday. It's been a long, long time since I've seen a film in the first day or two of its release (these days, we just eventually get around to seeing movies . . . if we wind up seeing them at all). I like the idea of being part of a record-breaking opening weekend.
The only review I've read so far was in USAToday. The critic gave it four stars, and affirmed what I've most been hoping for: that this feels like a classic Star Wars movie (unlike the prequels). Even if it can't surpass the OT, I just want a chance to go back to that place. The critic also called Williams' score "sparkling." Nice that they're still paying attention to that particular detail.
I would like to say I'm approaching this calmly, like an adult, no big deal. But the kid in me--who remembers vividly what it was like playing as Han Solo in the corridors of the Death Star during recess in elementary school in the years following the first movie's release--is bouncing off the walls trying to get out. I can't remember the last time I looked forward this much to going to the movies.
I left for weeks to avoid spoilers. Mike should have done the same
That's been my protocol as well. There are folks around here who actually think it's funny to spoil movies for people. No way I'm taking that risk.
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Morn ... Hmm, was he Drax 1.0?
I've often wondered that. There are undeniable similarities. . . .
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Still waiting. Tick tock, tick tock. . . .
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Congratulations for the new page! I'm following you now.
Thanks much. Hope you enjoy it!
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It's up and running. Click on the link in my signature to take a look.
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I've been trying to get a new page up on Facebook for about a month and a half. Haven't had enough time to polish it off . . . until now. I'm looking to launch it tomorrow. It'll focus on film scores--release news, trivia, bits 'n' pieces about scores present and past, and a daily sampling of music from scores both popular and obscure. The idea is to inform and educate, to get more people thinking about the music they probably love without being aware they love it (like many of us were in the days before we became collectors), maybe even nurture the hobby in a few people already on the edge of the idea.
And it's a chance for me to get to talk about this subject I adore so much. I've wanted to pursue . . . something like this for a long time. My main conundrum was the format. I have neither the time nor the energy to do a full-blown blog, mostly because I know I wouldn't be able to resist all the bells and whistles that would inevitably gobble up hours every day (not to mention all the effort that goes into promotion). I thought this would offer a better compromise, something that would require only a few hours a week but still provide plenty of content. It's taken me this long to develop an "assembly line" that'll make rolling material out a short and simple process, but I think I'm ready to tackle this thing.
I'll post a link here once the page is published. It would be nice to see some of you there, perhaps even commenting and contributing once in a while.
- Taikomochi and Bespin
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"Didn't your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap?"
"Yeah. Didn't do any fuckin' good."
Another great character actor lost. He was always so . . . comfortable in the shoes of the people he portrayed. He's another one who'll be missed.
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This is what I get for not getting over to the JW forum for a while. How the hell did I miss this one. . . ? I knew about Jaws 2, and have been appropriately excited about getting my copy of it. I wonder if, when I glanced over the list of new releases, I misread "JAWS 2-CD" to mean Jaws 2. On CD, I guess. (Please don't ask me to explain how my brain works.)
This is great news as well, though I have to say for once I'm slightly less interested in the new material than in the new sound of the old material. I've always thought this had something of a distant, "dusty" sound to it, not completely inappropriate for an ocean mystery but sadly inferior to so much of JW's usual Golden Age sound. It gave some cues (like "Ben Gardner's Boat," for instance) a sort of melancholic, almost disinterested manner, like the orchestra was too distracted to put a complete effort into their performance. I know that wasn't the case, and I'm thrilled to get to hear what it should've sounded like all along.
John Williams Receives 50th Oscar Nomination for 'The Force Awakens'
in JOHN WILLIAMS
Posted
I thought we had a discussion about this some years ago. Doesn't the Best Score category get voted up by a select group of composers/musicians? (If not . . . where the hell did I get that idea?)