Rogue One: A Newer Hope

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

Star Wars: A New Epic

Think Odysseus on his long journey.

Epic. The stories of grand scale, the fall and rise of empires, small flaws felling monarchs, farm boys becoming heroic conquerors, hardened mercenaries gaining honor, and integrity to ideals redeeming the fallen. I love the epic. Star Wars perfectly exemplifies the qualities of story and character that made the mythologies and epics of old, combining them with the visuals of space opera science fiction, and the most advanced practical effects ever conceived. I enjoy all of the Star Wars movies for their sense of scale, the dedication to ideals, and belief in right and wrong. Armies and planets and the ability to influence the universe are the bread and butter of the series. When one important man falls, the entire galaxy pays the price. One woman can change the odds of a rag-tag rebellion from impossible to assured. The fate of all the multitudes of races and creeds of every planet and galaxy changes with the decisions of these actors. One misstep plunges the universe into chaos and agony, one noble sacrifice ensures a better future for everyone.

Although enormous and overarching in scale, individual decisions in Star Wars hinge on the same ideals that made and destroyed the Empire and Rebellion. We feel some great pity and catharsis for those moments where characters decide to hold grudges or skip out early to save friends, or lie because the truth will hurt more than help. The victories of this expressionistic universe don’t come from armies or Death Stars or even the Force, but from individuals learning self-control, nobility, and courage. 

Leia was technically the first Disney Princess to hold a gun!

Without question, the real governor of this universe is an acute belief in right and wrong, something simple and yet so audacious both in the 80s and especially today. Although most believe in relative morals, a moral absolute governs the universe in Star Wars that rewards and punishes absolutely for the great and small moral choices of every character we see. The Jedi fell to pride long before the Emperor’s order. Anakin fell to grudges and lust long before his name was Darth. Leia, Han, and Luke succeed not according to prowess, skills, or luck, but by their dedication and integrity to their ideals. Leia gave her life to ensure the plans escaped, and willingly gave herself to her execution instead of betraying the noble Rebels, and was rescued.

Luke risked his life to save someone he didn’t know and became a trusted hero of the rebellion. Han let go of pride and his survival for the greater good of the universe in the Rebellion. Even if moral absolutism sounds arbitrary and old-fashioned, the way it makes this universe feel captures something of ourselves and our desire for a better tomorrow without the confusion and ambiguity which we all face in this world.

Although unrealistic and hopeful, we are still finding enjoyment both intellectual and emotional from this series. These stories capture something of the classic myths and epics into a unique universe with awesome powers while never letting go of what makes the powers special and specific- the dedication and integrity shown to the most noble ideals. Regardless of missteps in writing, direction, and effects, all six movies string together these beliefs so well it is worth owning all six to view them if not as flawless movies individually, as an unparalleled achievement of making a six part movie epic, of a second birth to mythologies and epics in modern media. We love interconnected and continuing stories and world-building in every form of consumable media under the sun thanks in no small part to the six movies dedicated to the tragedy and redemption of great Jedi and terrible Sith.

Pragmus Omega
(Clyde Northrup)
Chief Editor and Co-Founder

*Edited by Sigma (Corey)