Rian Johnson
Gli ultimi Jedi

End of the first half, the comments in the theater are like: «What are we watching?», «Is it all set in the trulli?». Fast forward to the credits: the feeling is that we've seen one of the most beautiful episodes of the entire saga, perhaps second only to The Empire Strikes Back.

The gap seems significant to me, because never before in Star Wars do the audience's expectations risk trapping directors and screenwriters in terms of creative freedom. We had two clear examples of this in the 2015 and 2016 films: two products, almost automatically generated from the Lucasian imagination, without creative insights.

Fortunately, Episode VIII possesses its own dignity and autonomy, its own character. And so the long part set «in the trulli» is worth its weight in gold because it re-establishes that pseudo-philosophical character that is the essence of the Jedi, and it does so very well, with a script written with great inspiration by Johnson. The first part also gives a non-sparse characterization to the protagonists, albeit with differences in outcomes due to different acting qualities. The trio of Luke, Kylo Ren, and Rey is not well balanced in a purely acting sense: Adam Driver is much better, Mark Hamill has charisma anyway, while Daisy Ridley risks being overshadowed despite being the real protagonist. But the solid script keeps her afloat because her strength is reflected by the other two, never isolated.

Reading comments and reviews before watching, I had different expectations. The film doesn't disrupt the general setup to such an extent, the twists aren't that incredible, although they are enjoyable. I believe the exaggerated comments are due to the Star Wars fever that never fades. In the film, there's rather a very fertile dialogue between tradition and renewal, between the charisma of historical characters and the freshness of the new ones. But also between gravitas and comedy: there’s a continuous and often sudden alternation of serious tones and ironic lines, with a pace so fast that it almost doesn't leave time to laugh (or complain about the jokes).

This ironic filter has been much criticized, but it is as necessary as some plot twists to make the saga blossom again. The choice denotes great intelligence and clarity by the director-screenwriter: the epic of Star Wars is not strong enough to afford two and a half hours of absolute seriousness, it doesn't hold up. Sure, if the lightness comes from Jar Jar Binks or the Ewoks, things don't go that well, but in this case, the work is more targeted and undeniably tied to the tones developed by the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Yes, there are little creatures here too, but they are given minimal screen time or quick gags that bring a smile. Irony at its finest becomes meta-narrative, as is the entire setup of the new trilogy, which doesn't hide its callbacks to the classic one, playing on variations, undisguised imitations, ironic distortions, or aesthetic reformulations.

This film is one of the best of the saga also for the management of space battles, never so tactical, articulated, and in-depth. In comparison, everything we've seen in the past looks like trial exercises. Here, the space strategies, the real star wars, are put in absolute prominence, without sacrificing a bit of the individual stories, the personal conflicts. And the minor exploits don't just boil down to adventures in digression but postulate a real internal struggle within the Resistance. There are new characters that work well and give further breadth to those introduced in the previous chapter.

At a certain point, the film surges: there is a dizzying scene where all certainties are lost, light and dark sides become confused, everything seems unhinged. It's a breach of the superficial veil that divides the protagonists into factions, a revelation of the human face beneath each character's Pirandellian mask. It represents one of the absolute peaks of the saga, but it must soon close and return to the established tracks. After such a peak, you can calmly face the final clash on the planet of red earth and salt, a brilliant re-proposition-variation of Hoth, reaffirming the play of callbacks with reformulations. The sequence is beautiful and offers one of the most visually suggestive duels.

The reflection is this: the imagery created by Lucas will always be greater than the individual, various films. But I believe that in the context of the genre, Johnson's work ranks at decidedly high levels. To realize this, however, you shouldn't be too hardcore a fan because certain choices sound like slaps at the most morbid expectations of admirers. «No, screw you all, I don’t care about your theories». Whether they are about generational descents, Jedi training, the use of the Force, the structural breakdown of the clashes: Rian plays with fire and spectacularly wins his bet.

7/10