Luke Triumphs

Rating: 8/10 (30 January 2018)

I saw TLJ before reading any reviews. A few acquaintances had recommended it with the stipulation that the story "takes risks" and "doesn't hold back". This of course had me intrigued, plus the fact that the audience score was rather low for a SW movie (the lowest of all SWs in fact, as far as I can tell, save for The Clone Wars). And so finally after the nearly 3 hour viewing at my local AMC in a recliner chair pressed against the screen in the front row corner seat, I walked out of the theater very satisfied, smiling from ear to ear. Then a few days later I came here to read the audience reviews.
As a brief aside before addressing this film specifically, I ended up going back to look at some reviews of TFA as well, and there found a point that I think should be briefly re-stated here before detailing some aspects of TLJ as it is. Namely, one reviewer points out that the third trilogy is basically a reboot of the original. It may indeed have been perhaps far more interesting if, rather than restart the same "small rebel group fights huge colossal evil war machine" story, we would have picked up where the rebellion left off after ROTJ and pursued the challenges of, as the reviewer in question put it, transitioning from a small militaristic band to the re-establishment of a successful republic. There are plenty of new spaces that story-line could have occupied, to say the least. But alas, that isn't the direction the franchise was taken. So, with that in mind, this film obviously had to pick up where TFA left off.
**SPOILER ALERT**
I will admit that reading this plethora of negative, often emotionally charged reviews has caused me to rethink the movie. They have caused me to reduce my rating by at least a half-star (and maybe even a full star). There are what I consider some valid points in these negative responses, namely in regard to the matter of certain inconsistencies or inexplicable plot points. One of these arguments, for example, pointed out that were it in fact possible to light-speed ram a First Order vessel into oblivion in the SW universe, this would have been a tactic used in previous films. (Ironically, however, I thought this was one of the most thrilling scenes in the movie. It was choreographed in a very deliberate way and was, well, awesome in the visual/auditory sense.) Another pointed out that Leia is brought back into the ship without first entering a pressurization chamber and the crew is not pulled out to space due to vacuum forces as she does so. So yes, there are some technical plot details that may be a bit shoddy or inconsistent in a few places and it is with these claims that I can agree. In short though, I think these are for the most part forgivable and certainly don't, in and of themselves, warrant the type of criticism this movie has received.
But of course, it is not just for the above-mentioned reasons that this film has polarized audiences, as is apparent if one takes the time to read through these posts. So there's a lot more to it, but here I basically want to address one specific matter: Luke Skywalker. I think it is his character's story-line in this film that is perhaps most upsetting to those who consider themselves "true" Star Wars fans.
So I'm going to argue briefly now why, in fact, Luke is actually the best (and even by far the best at that) part of this movie. But first, I will disclose the fact that I do not consider myself a "true" Star Wars fan, at least in the sense that I perceive others to be "true" fans. I know someone who claims to have watched A New Hope 124 times. I think I've seen it twice. I've never been to a convention, purchased any memorabilia whatsoever, read any of the books, and didn't actually see the original trilogy until my mid-twenties (and I'm only 30 now). So, who am I to make claims like these? Well, a nobody, I suppose. So that being said, read on at your own discretion.
Luke has arguably been, at least perhaps up until this film, the most beloved and quintessential of all SW characters. His "Hero's Journey" is the epitome of that cherished, timeless and mythical appeal we recognize in the original three films. People invested in this franchise have identified with him perhaps more than any other, and so clearly a lot is at stake with the continuation of his character. At the conclusion of ROTJ, Luke has become the keystone embodiment of both the classic Hero's Journey and the (Light Side of the) Force itself. As one reviewer claims, "Anyone who watched the 3 original movies KNOWS Luke is an honorable and faithful JEDI that goes to the core of his VERY EXISTENCE."
My interpretation of the negative consensus concerning Luke in TLJ goes like this: Our beloved, charming, fully-developed Luke who represents the ultimate, unfailing good has, in one fell swoop, become a grumpy old hermit who wants nothing to do with anyone. Essentially we find him waiting to die, and refusing to help in the most desperate of times. And furthermore, all we get is a short backstory with an allusion to the fact that he actually contemplated killing his nephew who then bested him. This is the Luke who was the most essential factor in defeating the Empire throughout the first trilogy. He is unable to manage a teenager and now is sulking about it and completely disillusioned. More or less.
So criticism here is understandable, no doubt. But here is where the value should be recognized: Luke is not a god. He represents the best of HUMANITY, not gods.
Some of us may have deified him in our hearts, or turned him into a caricature of some kind, idealized him beyond the confines of humanity. But Luke is no god. And that is the point of this symbol, that no matter what successes we attain, no matter how "good" we are in any given moment or period of our lives, we can't become some fixed thing. We can't become impervious to change or a fall or decline or the dark side. If we could, what would that make us? It would make us finished. Stuck. Done. The play of all manifest phenomena hinges on the unceasing exchange between "good" and "evil", something that moves us constantly from within. This is the Force, and it is the impetus for all of life. Luke is revealed as the ultimately relatable character in just such a way. He is not some far removed ideal that we ascribe to but can never actually attain. He is one of us, and he is One with Us. He is what we are.
Anyone who's had a midlife crisis knows the gnawing inner question: "What's the point of it all?" Why did I just pour everything I am into subduing the dark side when in practically no time it rises up again stronger than ever before, just to start the whole cycle over again? I think most of us would become tired and disillusioned also. We'd also probably feel rather hesitant to keep fueling this cycle by yet again training others to repeat it ad nauseam unto eternity. We'd want the whole thing to end too.
So Luke's true journey is the journey of a true human being, and hence, this makes him the truest of all heroes. This completes the myth. He attains the ultimate success, realizes that the goal is not the end in itself (and in fact that, there is no possible "end goal" at all), becomes severely disillusioned, and then... he is faced with life knocking at his door again. He is faced with the fact that there is no escape. Naturally what does he do? He resists. He wants nothing to do with it. He responds as all of us have or will, once at that point: with resistance.
Finally, his care, concern, compassion, light, and above all, his choice, is reignited and in one of the most spectacular movie scenes ever he intervenes on behalf of the rebellion, giving every last bit of his life and being to that which he represents: the goodness of humanity. He finds value in life despite the inevitable conflict and disillusionment that old age brings, and still chooses not just good, but ultimately life itself. His purpose is then fulfilled and his story concludes. The journey is complete.
There is a part of us that wants Luke to be a god. We want to capture his state at the end of ROTJ, then put it in a nice case on our mantle and admire it. But really, where else could the character have logically gone after ROTJ? The only alternative would be to make him appear only marginally, because he was already at the "top" and so there was no change possible except as it did take place. He couldn't have gone "up" anymore. He'd have just been a father figure at best. But more importantly, he would not have come to represent the complete HUMAN journey.
We want to believe that there exists some ideal where we can finally "rest". Where we will "attain" some state of permanence. Where we will become "gods", even. If such a thing can possibly exist, it can only exist in perfect stillness. In perfect nothingness. We don't want to admit Luke is human because we don't want to admit that imperfection is built into the fabric of existence and is therefore inescapable. Luke's story represents not what we want to believe, however, but what is true. We haven't been given the easy "Luke is still a badass hero and nothing has changed because he made it to the top" version. We've been given the "Luke is vulnerable" version. Luke is human. Luke is us.
So that's about it. I know that got a bit abstract or poetic or overly-sentimental or whatever (and long), but I hope the point gets across. Change is not our greatest enemy. No other Star Wars will be the original Star Wars. Each can be appreciated for what it is. I hope this film, despite the backlash and its flaws, is recognized for its virtues for decades to come.