Movie Review – Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

Well, this is a story all about how / the plans for the Death Star got flipped, turned upside down...

If Rogue One: A Star Wars Story sounds like it's singing the same old song, that’s because it is.

It marks Disney’s second effort as owners of Lucasfilm to revitalise the Star Wars brand, though their decision to deliver a forerunner to Episode IV: A New Hope is understandably worrying.

Prequels have never been this saga’s strong suit.

While last year saw the release of Episode VII: The Force Awakens, an honest-to-goodness continuation of the forty-year franchise, Gareth Edwards’ Rogue One asks the audience to reflect on the inciting incident that occurred just prior to the very first film. (It also gives Episode VIII director Rian Johnson time to finish cutting together the follow-up everyone actually wants to see.)

The plot of Rogue One expands on a line of dialogue from the original Star Wars, detailing how the plans for the Death Star—the bulbous, planet-destroying warship run by the fascistic Empire—were squirreled away by the Resistance and put into the hands of idealistic rebels Princess Leia and Luke Skywalker. All of this takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, if you seriously need further context; surely this is one communal pop culture relic we don’t need a refresher on.

If Star Wars was a space opera, Rogue One is a modest war movie. On that front, it doesn’t disappoint, but it doesn’t surprise or delight either. The Force Awakens managed to do both of those things, while slavishly genuflecting to what came before. The wheel-spinnery of Rogue One reminds us that, yes, we're getting one of these a year now, and they're only going to feel less and less special. It’ll simply have to settle for being the best Star Wars prequel to date.

Our hero is Jyn Erso, played by Felicity Jones; a wily urchin, orphaned after her scientist father, Galen (Mads Mikkelsen), is kidnapped by the Empire’s cape-wearing Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn) and forced to work on the Death Star in the shadows of space. (All the bad guys wear spectacular, ‘70s-influenced threads; it's the most welcome nostalgic throwback of these rebooted flicks thus far.)

Jyn winds up snagged by Cassian Andor (Diego Luna)—a Rebel officer with no qualms about shooting first—on account of her dad, after the Resistance learns Galen may have attempted to leak blueprints of his weapon, including its secret vulnerabilities, via a defecting Imperial pilot (Riz Ahmed).

On their hunt for the pilot, Jyn and Cassian are joined by a blind holy man (Donnie Yen), an assassin (Jiang Wen) and a back-talking, beady-eyed robot (voiced by Alan Tudyk). Forest Whitaker turns up for a minute, making a whole lot of interesting choices. The ensemble is appealing, funny, diverse and even represents characters with disabilities. It almost makes up for the fact we don't learn most of their names and they rarely interact beyond the partner they’re introduced with.

Darth Vader himself pops his helmet into frame a few times, except he's been spared the retro '70s styling: his black outfit has never appeared so shiny and new. It was always going to be a stretch for Vader, once again voiced by James Earl Jones, to appear more imposing than the modern weirdos (Mendelsohn and Mikkelson) with whom he shares the screen. A much better villain is Mendelsohn, who basically keeps his Aussie accent and is honoured with the privilege of being briefly force-choked. You’ve come a long way, Mendo.

Rogue One is a low energy affair, missing the swashbuckling, serial thrills of the classic Star Wars movies. Yet, it borrows heavily from previous entries. Its ending especially recalls Return of the Jedi, focusing on the frustrating minutiae of stubborn mechanical faults during a daytime forest battle.

Gareth Edwards married moody bombast with giddy thrills better in Godzilla. Nonetheless, I can't argue with his selection as director, even if the picture itself isn’t wholly marvellous. (He can compose an awestruck tableau better than many of his contemporaries.) The script, credited to Chris Weitz and Tony Gilroy, and final cut was reportedly much tinkered with, so it’s hard to know who impeded whom here. It’s harder to know what a truly successful version of Rogue One would look like. The ending takes us to the beginning of Episode IV. Where would they have squeezed in the twists anyway?

The makers had to come out recently and break the news to fans there would be no sequel; no Rogue Two, because duh. In fairness, any assumptions viewers might have made speaks more to our suspicion of Hollywood, which never fails to find excuses to sequelise its apparent series closers.

The studio also had to reassure punters—and potential protestors—that Star Wars wasn't political, forgetting perhaps that it has 'Wars' in the title, and the reality that sci-fi and fantasy texts don't get to choose if they're allegories for the time they're made in, and that Rogue One specifically talks about the dangers of bystanderism and normalisation during the early days of a fascist regime. Wherever you look to draw comparisons—geographically or historically—there's no untethering Rogue One to the world we live in, no matter how far away its galaxy may be. It is these themes that hum loudest and ring truest, where Rogue One’s ensemble camaraderie otherwise falls flat.

Any concerned fans can rest assured that Rogue One is otherwise not so different from the Star Wars they know and love. There are still thrilling, intergalactic dog fights. There is still some dubious CGI and questionable ethical choices (the late Peter Cushing is resurrected for ‘Zombie Grand Moff Tarkin’). And the Stormtroopers still constantly miss their targets.

That’s what people love about these Star Wars movies, right? We get older, they stay the same.

3.5/5

In cinemas now. Rated M for science fiction violence.

Photo: Disney