The Force Awakens
George Lucas wasn’t just brilliant for revolutionizing cinema—he was a master of storytelling. From his understanding of the hero’s journey to the three-act structure, and his deft weaving of history and mythology into narratives, Lucas crafted stories that resonate on a primal level. He understood that a well-told story isn’t just entertainment; it’s a reflection of the human experience.
Take A New Hope, for example. While it was retroactively dubbed Episode IV, it seamlessly serves as the perfect opening act, establishing characters, stakes, and a universe brimming with possibility. The same can be said of The Phantom Menace, which, for all its criticisms—none I agree with—lays the groundwork for the prequel trilogy.
Now, let’s talk about The Force Awakens. As a first act, it’s actually quite impressive. Its pacing, character introductions, and sense of adventure are on point. But the film stumbles because it seems to forget it’s part of a larger narrative. If it were an Episode IV of an entirely new Star Wars series set 100 years after Return of the Jedi, it might be brilliant. But as Episode VII, the first chapter of the third act in the Skywalker saga? It’s a well-polished ship sailing in the wrong direction.
Let’s give credit where it’s due: the setup has potential. Luke Skywalker vanishing like a galactic King Arthur? Yes, please. Arthurian legend has its own three-part structure: picking up the sword, mastering its use, and learning when to lay it down. This could have paralleled Luke’s journey beautifully. Emphasis on could have.
The opening sequence also hooks the audience effectively. The First Order’s assault on a small village introduces Kylo Ren, a masked enigma whose identity—Leia and Han’s son, and Darth Vader’s grandson—is later revealed about an hour in. We meet Rey, the resourceful scavenger; Finn, the stormtrooper wrestling with a moral crisis; Poe, the Resistance’s ace pilot; and General Hux, whose dictator-like speech was disturbingly effective. On paper, this ensemble is rich with potential.
But as the film progresses, its greatest strength—introducing new mysteries—becomes its Achilles’ heel. Mysteries are compelling when they’re tethered to answers or even breadcrumbs. Here, they’re scattered without context, leaving the audience adrift. Aside from familiar faces like Han, Leia, Chewbacca, and the droids, The Force Awakens feels like a soft reboot instead of the seventh installment in a continuing saga.
The sequel trilogy inherited a universe where six films meticulously built up the Jedi, the Sith, and the Empire’s tyranny. Palpatine, the devil incarnate, orchestrated galactic chaos for decades. Yet The Force Awakens tosses him aside for Supreme Leader Snoke, a character introduced without backstory or context. The First Order? It’s just… there, seemingly filling the Empire’s shoes without explanation. If this were a brand-new series, these omissions might be forgivable. But as part of a saga with such rich lore, it’s like skipping chapters in a novel and hoping the audience won’t notice.
The accusation that Rey is a “Mary Sue” is pure nonsense. She follows the same narrative beats as Luke Skywalker in A New Hope. Failure to realize this amongst the so-called “fandom” points to broader issues of blatant and rampant misogyny. Daisy Ridley’s performance brings charm, curiosity, and a spark of wonder that makes Rey immediately likable and relatable. In fact, the performances across the board are solid. The issues lie elsewhere—mainly in the writing and editing.
The film suffers from bizarre editing choices. Take Poe and Finn’s storyline: they crash on Jakku, and Finn assumes Poe is dead. But instead of a dramatic reveal later, the film casually shows Poe alive and piloting an X-Wing during the Battle of Takodana. This undercuts the potential emotional impact of his survival. Imagine if we discovered Poe was alive at the same moment Finn did—it would have been a fist-pumping, audience-cheering moment. Instead, it’s a shrug.
Then there’s Starkiller Base, aka Death Star III. It destroys the New Republic’s capital in a visually striking scene, but we don’t even learn the planet’s name—Hosnian Prime—until after it’s obliterated. Compare this to Alderaan in A New Hope, whose destruction carried emotional weight because it had been established beforehand within the film. Here, the loss is hollow, reduced to spectacle without substance.
The film’s title promises something profound. Snoke’s line in the trailer—“There has been an awakening”—teased a seismic shift in the Force’s balance. But in the actual film? The “awakening” is nebulous at best. Rey’s Force vision, while visually stunning and rich with callbacks, happens a full 15 minutes after Snoke mentions the awakening. So, what exactly awakened? The Force nerd in me was left scratching my head. Finn does have a moral awakening at the start of the picture, but there is very little displayed with Rey as a sign of anything Force-related stirring within her.
The Force Awakens is entertaining, but it struggles under the weight of its legacy. As a standalone film, it shines; as part of the Skywalker saga, it falters. Its structure is disjointed, its mysteries feel hollow, and its disregard for established lore is frustrating. By the end, I wasn’t sure whether I’d watched a great film with flaws or a flawed film with great moments. What kept me excited, however, was the potential. Kylo Ren’s inner conflict—his willingness to embrace the Dark Side and kill his father—hinted at a villain unlike any we’d seen before. There was so much room for the sequels to explore his character, the Force, and the saga’s mythology.
But even before The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker, I knew The Force Awakens would rank near the bottom of my Star Wars list. Sadly, it didn’t stay there—it was later dethroned. The sequel trilogy’s missteps ultimately stem from a lack of understanding of what makes Star Wars tick. George Lucas built a galaxy rooted in narrative brilliance. J.J. Abrams simply wasn’t the right steward for this saga. He can certainly direct, but his ‘Star Wars’ projects are not the only films of his that suffer his writing incompetence. The Force may have awakened, but it stumbled out of bed groggy and unsure of where it was going.