The Star Wars Sequels: A Retrospective Review
The creative genius of George Lucas has never been more appreciated than it is now. Since selling Lucasfilm to Disney, the Star Wars franchise has grown in new and diverse ways—some delightful, some not. Along with Lucas’s departure came the loss of a storyteller who understood how to weave compelling narratives within a larger structure. The sequel trilogy, while ambitious, exposes a glaring failure to replicate Lucas’s storytelling brilliance.
Lucas’s original trilogies—the Original and the Prequels—both follow a meticulously crafted three-act structure. This structure, while simple in concept, is essential to building a cohesive and impactful saga.
Mastery of Structure
Take the Original Trilogy as an example. “A New Hope” (Episode IV) is a classic first act. It establishes the world, introduces the characters, and lays the groundwork for their motivations and arcs. By the film’s end, the audience knows who these people are and where their journeys might take them: Luke is set on a path toward becoming a Jedi, Han has reluctantly joined the Rebel cause, and Darth Vader looms as the menacing force determined to crush the rebellion.
The trilogy’s second act, “The Empire Strikes Back,” pushes the narrative into peril. Relationships deepen, revelations shake the foundation of the story, and the stakes rise dramatically. It’s a masterclass in second-act storytelling, forcing characters and audiences alike into uncharted emotional territory.
Finally, “Return of the Jedi” resolves the threads laid out in the first two acts. With its third-act structure, it provides satisfying conclusions to each major arc while leaving room for the galaxy to grow.
The Prequels mirror this approach. Despite the polarizing reception to “The Phantom Menace” (Episode I), it serves its purpose as a first act, introducing key players like Anakin Skywalker and Palpatine while laying the groundwork for their eventual fates. “Attack of the Clones” (Episode II) complicates matters, bringing conflict, peril, and moral ambiguity to the forefront. Finally, “Revenge of the Sith” (Episode III) delivers a devastating conclusion, showcasing the tragic fall of Anakin and the rise of the Empire.
Failure to Honor Structure
Unfortunately, the sequels abandon this proven framework. Starting with “The Force Awakens” (Episode VII), the trilogy struggles to balance its role as a continuation of the saga and a fresh start for new audiences. While visually stunning and filled with potential, it falters in establishing its world and narrative coherence.
The film introduces the First Order without any explanation of its origins. How did this new threat rise after the Galactic Empire’s defeat in Episode VI? Similarly, Supreme Leader Snoke appears as a substitute for Palpatine, yet no backstory or context is provided to justify his existence. Six films came before, making it imperative for the screenwriters to provide some form of exposition to justify the new details, demanding clear explanations to bridge the narrative gap. Without this crucial context, the story feels disconnected, leaving audiences to wonder how we arrived at this point after the Empire’s fall in Return of the Jedi.
Even within the film’s narrative, glaring issues arise. For example, the destruction of Hosnian Prime, a pivotal moment, occurs before the audience even knows it name or what the planet represents. For viewers, it’s easily mistaken for Coruscant, creating confusion at a critical juncture due to incompetence in its script.
Then there’s the title: “The Force Awakens.” While Snoke’s line—“There has been an awakening, have you felt it?”—hints at a thematic shift, the narrative does little to explore this awakening in any meaningful way. Rey’s Force-sensitive moment with the lightsaber occurs fifteen minutes later, leaving the supposed “awakening” feeling unearned and poorly timed.
Recognizing the Spark
Enter “The Last Jedi” (Episode VIII), the most divisive film in the trilogy but also the most daring. As a second act, it thrives. It challenges the characters and subverts expectations, making the journey more perilous and morally complex. Luke Skywalker’s disillusionment with the Jedi Order is consistent with his arc from the Original Trilogy. His rejection of the lightsaber mirrors his decision in “Return of the Jedi” to throw down his weapon, choosing pacifism over violence. His lessons to Rey are about recognizing the spark residing in us all, not just the Jedi.
Kylo Ren, too, evolves into a compelling antagonist. By killing Snoke, he defies expectations and solidifies himself as a villain unlike any other in Star Wars—a man driven not by manipulation (like Darth Vader was) but by his own dark desires. His now unrestrained malevolence sets the stage for a thrilling final act.
The Collapse of the Trilogy
Sadly, the trilogy’s promise collapses with “The Rise of Skywalker” (Episode IX). Rushed, overstuffed, and lacking any sort of focus, it undoes much of the groundwork laid by its predecessors. The return of Palpatine—while exciting on paper—feels haphazard and poorly explained. Starting the film with his reappearance robs the narrative of tension; his presence should have been a climactic reveal, not a foregone conclusion.
The film’s climax is its most egregious failure. The idea of Rey using two lightsabers to reflect Palpatine’s lightning is not only absurd but undermines the thematic core of Luke’s arc in “The Last Jedi,” and the arc of the previous six-part saga. The lightsaber was never meant to define a Jedi, yet here it becomes the key to defeating the Sith once and for all.
Other issues abound: fake-out deaths, the mishandling of Hux, the nonsensical Sith dagger plot, the miraculous plot device of the Force Dyad, and the wasted potential of the Knights of Ren. These problems stem from a lack of planning and an over-reliance on nostalgia, leaving the final act of the trilogy feeling disjointed and uninspired.
Importance of Story
The Star Wars saga has always been about story first. George Lucas understood that every piece of the narrative—from character motivations to the larger galactic conflict—needed to serve the overarching tale. The sequel trilogy, for all its visual splendor and occasional brilliance, falters because it lacks this cohesive vision.
While “The Last Jedi” dares to innovate, its bookends—“The Force Awakens” and “The Rise of Skywalker”—fail to honor Lucas’s legacy of thoughtful, deliberate storytelling. Going forward, Lucasfilm must prioritize creators who understand the balance between honoring the past and forging a new path. Only then can the galaxy far, far away regain its narrative luster.