Rogue One

Dec. 26th, 2016 04:18 pm
raven: (vorkosigan - creepy planetary conquest)
[personal profile] raven
I wasn't originally going to see Rogue One, and then [personal profile] happydork said some things that changed my mind. So A. and I went to see it on the lunchtime Boxing Day showing, which was an awesome idea. We walked in just before the start time and the two chaps who were the only other people in there smiled at us and announced, "Welcome to our cinema!" By the time the actual film started, there were about ten people scattered around the seats, all wearing Christmas jumpers and comedy headwear. About ten minutes in someone realised that they hadn't dimmed the house lights, took off his Santa hat with an elaborate sigh and went off to see someone about it.

So that was a Star Wars movie. I was thinking for basically the first three quarters of the movie, ahhh, self, you always forget you don't actually like epic fantasy. (What I like about SFF is the reimagining of the quotidian, and this is basically the reverse of that.) But, you know, it was fine. And then I was about half an hour from the end, still thinking, hmmm, this was a perfectly nice way to spend a holiday afternoon, and then suddenly I got what they were doing and how the story was going to have to go. I mean, I didn't exactly sit up and shout "THEY'RE ALL GOING TO DIE AT THE END!!" at my cinema full of Santa hats, but. but.

Because - it's not epic fantasy, or at least in the same way. It doesn't say, a pretty blonde farm boy is going to save you. You will save you - bit by bit, inch by inch, in the bare hope that the flaw in the reactor core will be enough or that the signal will get through or that flicking the master switch will do what it needs to (or that the Force is with you; that there's anything to believe that you can't see) or that they'll remember you or that you're worth remembering or that anything is. I've seen some reviews of the film whining about how it's such a waste everyone dies everything is terrible. And you know, partly it's just cos I get so much fucking flak for this all the time and it's nice to see another work of fiction that's doing it. But we live in terrible times! And none of us are the chosen one! Surely there is hope in this: that if you just keep on going in the hope that others will pick up where you had to leave off, that's a story that needs telling.

okay I'm done shouting at clouds. I'm trying to spend Boxing Day not doing much but now I'm going to tidy my desk of eighteen months of papers! Hurrah, etc.
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