Say what you will about George Lucas and the way he took the Star Wars franchise dangerously close to laughing stock territory with the prequels, but he was certainly a man with a plan. The original trilogy told a satisfying story, but Lucas always knew what came before, and what would come after. As stilted as the prequels were, they never faltered in telling the story that The Phantom Menace had mapped out. When the rights to the franchise were sold to Disney in 2012, Lucas passed on his ideas of an all-new trilogy, set after the events of Return of the Jedi and bringing in characters both old and new. Although elements from these early drafts made their way into J.J. Abrams' The Force Awakens in 2015, it became clear that Disney had their own ideas, which are, as Rian Johnson's The Last Jedi would suggest, to make it up as they go along.
The Force Awakens set up plot threads and introduced shady characters to be explored in future instalments, such as just how Maz Kanata got her hands on Luke Skywalker's lightsaber and just who the hell is Snoke, the new Emperor-like big bad? Fans were foaming at the mouths dreaming up theories to tie the strands together, and The Last Jedi was the film that would answer at least some of the questions. In hiring an independent filmmaker like Rian Johnson, they have hired a man intent on delivering his own vision, and it becomes clear quite early on that the events of The Last Jedi will not bring everything into place. It takes ideas conjured by The Force Awakens and makes a point of throwing out of the window. The result is an emotional sci-fi extravaganza which has divided audiences down the middle, with one half calling for te film to be removed from canon, and the other marvelling at Johnson's balls in turning a billion-dollar franchise on its head.
I can confidently say that I am in the latter category. While The Force Awakens was a fun shout-out to the original trilogy, even following the story of A New Hope almost to a tee, The Last Jedi is determined to make you care for the previously one-dimensional characters of Rey (Daisy Ridley) and Kylo Ren (Adam Driver), and question everything you knew about old-hand Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill). Skywalker is now so beloved within the annals of pop culture (both in universe and in our world) that there's almost a regal quality to Hamill's presence. When he first appears on screen, it's like seeing somebody dead brought back to life, and his reaction to Rey's passing of the lightsaber will likely catch you off guard. With the knowledge of Carrie Fisher's tragic passing a year ago, you'll likely be choking back the tears as Leia Organa first graces the screen. The Last Jedi has the power to make you feel in ways you would never think possible from the Star Wars franchise, especially when you remember those uncomfortable romantic scenes with Anakin and Padme from Attack of the Clones.
Not everything works however. At two and a half hours, it's too long, and Johnson's decision to take Finn (John Boyega) and his new Rebel pal Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) on a thirty minute detour to a casino in search of a hacker simply doesn't work. It's a sub-plot that doesn't really serve a purpose other than to give Finn something to do while Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac) clashes heads with Rebel Vice Admiral Holdo (Laura Dern), and to set up a showdown with fan-favourite Captain Phasma (Gwendoline Christie). This meandering story aside, The Last Jedi is the best Star Wars movie since The Empire Strikes Back, and by a comfortable margin. Many fan complaints about The Force Awakens were due to Abrams' film lacking originality, and although it provided one genuine shock with the death of a major character, it played things very comfortably. So I find the backlash aimed at Johnson's film quite dumbfounding, and personally, having my expectations subverted made for a far more engrossing experience. But with fan presence in every corner of social media, it's clear that you'll never please all the people all the time, but you can please about 50% of us.
On the face of it, Rian Johnson's thriller Looper, utilises many conventional visual signifiers of recent science fiction films, with a high concept idea at its centre. But unlike the many other dystopian future films, it doesn't get held back by the importance of the technology within the world it creates. Set in Kansas in 2044, the opening scene sees Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) standing alone in a wheat field with a blanket spread out a distance in front of him. Appearing instantaneously is a kneeling figure with his head covered in cloth, and Joe shoots. Like many other genre films, Looper has a reliance on narration from its main character, a necessity of complex narrative, but it is an important element, and one which further exacerbates Johnson's passion for film noir (as seen in his debut high school noir, Brick in 2005).
Thirty years in the future, time travel has been invented. For unexplained reasons, this technology has been outlawed, but is being used exclusively by crime syndicate's who are using people like Joe to assassinate people they send back in time. Joe, like the other loopers he works with are narcissistic, taking recreational drugs, simply living in the moment, with no apparent concern for the future, and particularly with the world they inhabit. A looper will eventually be retired, but once a looper is no longer required, this is known as closing the loop. What this involves is their future selves being sent back in time to be killed by his younger self. In a quirk of control, a being known as the Rainmaker, is attempting to put a stop to loopers altogether by closing all the loops. Panicking when confronted with the unclothed face of his future self (Bruce Willis), young Joe is knocked aside, and old Joe escapes the find the Rainmaker as a child, and stop the death of his future wife.
Whilst many other time travel films become often convoluted in their complexities of paradox, Looper manages to disregard the codes of science fiction paradoxicals and presents a refreshing layer of humanity. In a pivotal scene, when young and older Joe occupy the same time and space, they meet in their favourite diner - ordering the same meal - and older Joe complains at his younger self at his attitude towards life (I'm pretty sure we would all participate in this diatribe presented with the same context, to tell your younger self: "You're a dick"). Whilst the young Joe has no future outlook, future Joe has an image to cling to, specifically the woman who will eventually save his life. It's a scene fraught with tension and high chances of danger for the character(s), and one that has a bit of a poke at the concepts of time travel paradox. In fact, when quizzed about the possibility of changing the future by acting differently, old Joe bursts into anger, a character and a script knowingly telling the audience who will dissect time travel contradictions to essentially fuck off.
What ensues is a customary chase narrative, with the twist that Joe chases his older self - the younger is also being hunted by other loopers, as his inability to close the loop leans that he has to be eliminated. The hunt for the young Rainmaker leads to the farm of Sara (Emily Blunt) and her young son, Cid (Pierce Gagnon). The fact that young and old Joe share the same time/space, leads to a nice touch, where new experiences of the young Joe, reverberate in the memory of the elder. With this complex central concept, it would be easy for the script to become over elaborate, but Johnson keeps the plot simple, making it an incredibly satisfying narrative, that is intelligent, but does not over-intellectualise the themes.
Gordon-Levitt's performance is unsurpassed, he manages to possess the mannerisms of Willis without poor impersonation. Just one look of the face and his eyes and mouth (particularly) have this perfect essence of Willis. It's a big little film, that brings themes of addiction, paranoia, and the idea that in our youth, we inevitably make bad choices and often damage ourselves for in-the-moment selfishness. Johnson clearly has been influenced by Philip K. Dick, and even some of Blade Runner's (1982) visual tricks are utilised here. But whilst Dickian aesthetics dictate the overbearing corporation of government, Looper has a very human heart, which is illustrated in the relationship (new to old Joe) with the farmer and her son, and provides one of the most beautiful and convincing climax's in sci-fi cinema in some time. So therefore, Looper presents a very persuasive image of a future where society has collapsed and the highest paying job seems to be a hitman, it also shows that even the most self centred of people, the types who would risk the lives of others for money (ahem), can be moved by the idea and realisation of humanistic beauty, and the innocence of love.