You know going
in how it must end, yet you went. Even if you know little about the canon, you
know people died to get the plans to the princess. So how do you open your
heart to characters that will die? That remains the potential and problem of
classical tragedy.
It reminds me of Oedipus or Agamemnon, Greek myths turned into stage play
tragedy, some of the oldest in theater and writing. The audience were familiar
already with the stories, but the play turned them from a faceless footnote
into a cathartic character. The irony of knowing that Oedipus is doomed from
the beginning, yet he continues to push for truth to save the people he rules
over makes him the proud and pitiable hero.
Rogue One follows a group of new characters who discover and steal the Death
Star plans and ultimately die so the Rebellion can live. Even one unfamiliar
with Star Wars knows going in that these people are not in New Hope and that
many died to get Princess Leia the plans for the Death Star, so the ending is
not structured as a big surprise but as the fulfillment of a greater purpose
they have come to understand. They know their own inevitable demise yet
continue because they have found a new purpose worth dying for- the Rebellion
and freedom.
The characters are stereotypes we have come to expect from this universe, yet feel fresh because they fit the greater universe Star Wars has created in our minds. The final battle feels like a play on all the Vietnam movies that played out in the 70’s, and the character stereotypes feel taken from the Japanese samurai films that inspired Lucas and Star Wars in the first place. I don’t mind archetypes as long as they use them in a clever and appropriate manner, and here, it works as the high tragedy leading into a greater hero’s journey plot. They each have endearing moments that make them and by extension, the universe, feel more grounded and alive. They treat death in a serious manner, making the eventual self-sacrifice a choice, showing the growth they underwent.
The beginning
feels rushed and scattered, trying to introduce too many characters and places
too quickly, and makes me wish they had kept the crawl just so the beginning
felt more focused. Although the young Jyn seeing her parents’ sacrifice made
her character more engaged and understandable than Rey from Force Awakens. They
can be seen as similar, yet Jyn stands as the more developed and moving of the
two currently. The bounty hunter feels like a simple and brilliant take on Han
Solo if he didn’t have Chewie or Leia to temper his brutal efficiency. And the
villain, the officer commissioning the Stardust project, fills the role of
earnestly conniving Imperial trying to brute force the universe perfectly.
The movie shows what you can do with intelligence and risk with a franchise as beloved as Star Wars. They took the time to learn the universe and find an enigma worth exploring and create a fitting story to answer that mystery. They took another form of the epic, the doomed hero, and archetypes that fit both the form and this universe, and let the characters naturally develop into the pivotal pawns of the fated franchise.
--Rozlynd
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