This article contains spoilers for Rogue One.
If you plan on seeing Rogue One and would rather not know things like character deaths, close this article and go see Rogue One before you come back.
Thank you!
After I saw Rogue One for the first time, a Facebook friend asked me who my favorite character was. I immediately said “Bodhi,” much to my friend’s surprise.
At the moment, I couldn’t explain why, out of a cast full of awesome characters – the badass and ever-loyal leading lady, the cool and conflicted captain, the snarky autistic-coded battle droid, the blind would-be-Jedi and his laser-machine-gun-toting boyfriend – I latched onto the Imperial pilot, Bodhi Rook. The guy who spends the majority of his scenes so nervous he can’t put together coherent sentences. That was the character whose death, out of all the deaths, made me cry out in the theater.
I just saw Rogue One for the second time. I love re-watching movies because I can focus on the film’s craft more than the plot and figure out the reasons behind my gut reactions. And here’s why I like Bodhi: in him, I see myself.
Bodhi is not a warrior with nerves of steel. He’s the Star Wars universe’s equivalent of a truck driver, and when we meet him he is clearly out of his depth. He’s panicked and babbling, terrified of getting hurt. After Saw Gerrera tortures him, he just sits in his cell, shivering and unresponsive. When the Death Star attacks Jedha, he’s so freaked out that Cassian has to drag him out of harm’s way. We eventually learn that Bodhi wants to be useful – he wants to stop the Death Star, to “make it right” – but he doesn’t have the combat skills or inspiring speeches that other members of the rebellion do.
In this way, Bodhi is a lot like me. I hate injustice and I want to be useful to the causes I believe in, but I am terrified of pain. Fortunately, I’ve never had to learn how I would react if I were suddenly thrust into a warzone, but I believe I would freak out like Bodhi. I can’t see myself holding a weapon, and while I like crafting written pieces, when the stress piles on and I’m called to verbally improvise, I get nervous and stammer.
But once Bodhi finds his niche, he excels. He’s given a role that he knows how to perform – being an Imperial pilot – and suddenly he’s a lot more confident. He puts his knowledge of Imperial bases to use, telling Cassian where to go on Eadu and bluffing his way through the shield gate at Scarif. During the battle on Scarif, he uses the ship’s radio to trick the Imperial forces into thinking there are many more rebels attacking than there actually are, using words instead of guns to give his team an edge. He’s clearly frightened the whole time, but he keeps going, solving the puzzles he knows how to solve and making sure that everyone else has the information they need to know in order to win.
When I think about Bodhi’s successes, I see myself as well. I know what I’m good at, and a lot of what I do involves supporting other people. Sometimes I need a nudge when I’m afraid, like Bodhi occasionally needs Cassian to push him, but I know what needs to be done, and I do it.
Bodhi never learns that Rogue One’s mission succeeded, and he will never get recognition in-universe as a hero. But he believes in his mission and, when it comes down to it, puts the greater good over his personal comfort. I aspire to be like Bodhi, to use what I know best to help the people around me succeed, even when I’m afraid. With heroes like him to look up to, I believe I will.
