The Rise Of Skywalker is ambitious and lofty in its speech. If that fuels you enough, you are at the lucky side of the door. You then don’t have to reminisce what goes on backstage.
J. J. Abrams, the co-writer and director, is a jedi of every Star Wars film that we have encountered. His goodwill nature is the only reason he has survived. What haunts me the most, is that whilst J. J. brings out some new incredibly rich guns to blast off our expectations, he has left his most reliable and promising trick unchecked for the last journey. The fluidity in his direction that smoothly waves by to us, frame by frame, scene after scene is rushed poorly here. For a film that takes its time and expects the audience to understand the momentum of it, there is no reason why the time stands still in the film (plot wise, of course). And yet it does. Also, in the most uncomfortable situations. Moments that are loud and, in addition to that, are brimming with cheesy content that is supposedly marking various slots for the fans to melt down. What instead melts down is the film. You see it struggling so awfully that you wish that it never took off. J. J. is not in control of his film at all. What he gets right, along with his cinematographer, is how to put this final showdown for the audience through a new lens. You then see a mesmerising picturization of the same imageries that you have been seeing all over the franchise. That familiarity is present, it’s just that we are experiencing it through different sparkling angles. But more than angles, the scale of the cinema fascinated me the most. J. J. uses the IMAX technology to its best. You can see how he has kept the subject and object of a scene to be way too close and big enough for us to feel that we might be missing something. That the screen isn’t big enough to capture the storyline and the characters. Just as this chapter doesn’t and shouldn’t carry the burden of the entire franchise. The expectation has been bigger for 42 years, just as the ambition.