![]() Abrams' Star Wars: The Force Awakens ("Who talks first? Do you talk first or do I talk first?"). One, he leans into the sly, knowing sense of humor that was present in the original trilogy ("I love you." "I know."), but that got dumbed way, way down in the prequels ("How wuuuude!") and forcefully reawakened in J.J. To do so, Johnson supplies two fuel additives to the existing mix. It supplies us with all the things we expect - nay, demand - in a Star Wars movie, and manages to surprise us by revealing that this fictional universe, in which we've already clocked so many hours, can still surprise us. ![]() The Last Jedi is fun and fast, rollicking and suspenseful. Rian Johnson, director and writer of Star Wars: The Last Jedi (aka Episode VIII, aka The One Without Any Big Round Thing That Needs To Get Destroyed By Exploiting A Weakness In Its Design, Thank God) knows how vital each of those bedrock elements prove, and he has struck upon precisely the right alchemical formula without making a franchise film that feels formulaic. If they are to successfully make the jump to light speed, Star Wars movies require a precisely calibrated fuel mixture: one-third epic space battles, one-third narrow escapes and duly buckled swashes, one-third hooded beardy dudes standing around looking pained while solemnly intoning the cheesiest hokum about Darkness and Light as if it's Hamlet's Yorick speech (which in a way, it is).
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