" Star Wars: The Force Awakens" aroused long-buried stores of adoration for a franchise that captivated my imagination a long, long time ago. The movie cut brilliantly through the smoky rings of time like the raging glow of a lightsaber and alighted my wide-eyed, mouth-breathing former self, to whom "Star Wars" had meant so much.
When I saw the wide-angle shot of a cruiser gliding above desert sands manned by protagonist Rey -- a character who, much like Luke, is a lonely, thwarted teenager living on a Tatooine-like planet whose family history is mysteriously unknown -- it was a very Proustian moment, as if I had experienced it before, or at least something fundamentally connected to it. This, I suppose, is the genius of George Lucas' vision -- motifs so essential to the human experience, the symbolism derived from the sea of images which make up the collective unconscious, that it makes the viewer feel he already knows the story.
When defecting stormtrooper FN-2187 pulls Po, the newly captured Resistance pilot with Han Solo-esque suavity and confident finesse, aside to tell him he is being rescued, Po asks, "Why are you helping me?" The defector delivers soberly, "Because it's the right thing to do." This subtle-yet-apparent shifting of the moral tides was a real turning point, and had everyone on the edge of their seats, cheering the two all the way. (And don't worry, this immense risk was defrayed by Po in a spectacular christening scene. As the two escape in a stolen Ty-fighter, he shouts through the headset, "What's your name?" "FN-2187, it's the only name I've ever had." "FN, huh? Well, I'm gonna call you Finn!" Thus, a hero was born.)
Just as we think we have found our man to root for, J.J. Abrams pulls the wool from over our eyes and reveals it's not a man at all. The droid BB-8 which provides the plot's initial focal point of tension -- it holds a special map, in a mission that echoes R2-D2's in "A New Hope," which would help the Resistance locate long-lost Jedi Master Luke Skywalker -- finds its way to Rey, and when her path converges with Finn's, her destiny becomes ever clearer to audience and protagonist alike. We know what's going to happen, but we enjoy the ride anyway, playing along complicitly as Abrams pulls the wool over and over and over, like an elaborate game of peek-a-boo. (Did I not mention a reversion to a childlike state?)
For every Resistance there must be a First Order, just as for every Rebellion there must be an Empire; and so we have Kylo Ren, the new arch-Lord of the Dark Side, ostensibly pitted against Rey, the simon-pure, brim-filled vessel of the Force's lighter side. The philosophical undercurrent which guides all of the "Star Wars" mythos is represented in new garb but still retains its straightforward and dichotomous splendor. We know who to root for and who to revile from the start. It's much better that way so the audience can invest emotionally in the characters appropriate to sympathize with. It was a refresher that the good folks at Disney didn't attempt to overcomplicate things -- simply rinse, add copious CGI, and repeat. That's all my inner child requires: a plotline specifically and precisely built to showcase the images, the scenes, and the stories that have already proved so successful in capturing my imagination and that of millions of others.
Addendum: Since Disney refused to give me money for this as sponsored content, I might as well come out and say what I really thought of its attempt to revive an already bled-dry movie franchise. "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" should be called "Star Wars: The Franchise Resurrected." The movie stumbled forward as listless and lifeless as a zombie in a catalog flip-through of old images and scenes and, most disconcertingly, plotlines. A panoply of large objects are blown up and a smattering of loud explosions are liberally applied like rouge to give the cadaver a semblance of life. (It is always important to note a movie's heavy use of soundtrack to supply the emotional vivacity that the dialogue and images lack.)
The only exciting development in this derivative, yet lucrative, project were the technical innovations -- though one wonders whether they were constructed to distract from the pancake-flat script, which is so forced and inorganic that it makes one feel as if they are being told, not shown: the mark of bad writing. Who, for example, cannot cringe when Finn says to Rey: "So I ran -- right into you. And you looked at me like no one ever had." Is this a Nicholas Sparks novel? No amount of CGI can smooth over maudlin moments like these and the massive amounts of plot holes which litter the entire movie.
These, presumably, are to be resolved in the following movies, but that's no excuse; that just makes this "Star Wars" installment an elaborate extended trailer to introduce us to what is following. After all, this is not merely a piece of cinema but a small part of a mammoth franchise. They will do whatever it takes to bleed it, and the rest of us, for every drop it's got.
