• If the thought-sucking monster was able to determine that Bodhi, the pilot, was telling the truth about defecting from the Empire, then why did Saw Gerrera still suspect that Jyn and others had been sent to kill him? Wouldn’t he have learned the truth from the monster? What exactly did the monster do to the pilot?
• Was that a giant statue of a Jedi collapsed into the sands outside Jedha? Was Jedha a home for Jedi? Is the name “Jedha” supposed to signify that? Are the Jedi viewed as legends? Rogue One takes place about 20 years after the events depicted in Revenge of the Sith. Have the Jedi been turned into mere rumors in that time? How could a force that served as “the guardians of peace and justice” for “over a thousand generations” become so forgotten so quickly?1
• What was the point of staging a prologue to set up Galen Erso’s flight from the Empire and Jyn’s subsequent abandonment if those events would just be repeated in visuals and dialogue later in the film?
• Why does Darth Vader live by himself in a tower above a river of lava on what’s apparently an otherwise barren planet? Isn’t he a pretty important figure to the Empire? What’s more, how could the film so drastically misjudge the tone and place of his character? At the outset of Star Wars, Vader is an imposing commander but essentially a lackey of Grand Moff Tarkin. Other Imperial commanders openly mock him and his belief in the Force, as well as his confidence in the Death Star. Tarkin’s able to command him with ease. Vader’s role as someone to fear and cower before wasn’t increased until The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, as he took a greater role in overseeing the Imperial’s efforts against the rebels.
Darth Vader’s first appearance in Star Wars is a menacing one, and his strength is made clear when he lifts a man up by the throat with one hand. But his displays of what could be called “Force power” are limited: he chokes a disrespectful Imperial commander (only to be called off by Tarkin), he engages in a brief lightsaber duel with his old master, and he proves to be a decent pilot who senses the Force in Luke Skywalker. In Rogue One, though, Vader is cartoonishly powerful, smashing through things and throwing people with the Force in a way he never does again. How are we to reconcile this swift-moving, hotheaded villain with the one who will emerge minutes later into the opening of the first Star Wars? Did no one involved with making Rogue One stop to think that this kind of thing would be jarring? Or did they simply not care? Even when he uses the Force to choke someone here, it’s not to make a point (e.g., that the Force is real and should be respected), it’s just to be petty. And he caps it off with two puns in one sentence, growling, “Do not choke on your aspirations.” Who is this even supposed to be?
• Not a single thing here feels original or interesting. That’s not to say there wasn’t potential to tell an interesting story about a suicide mission during a war, and there’s plenty of cinematic precedent (The Dirty Dozen, etc.). But there hasn’t been a Star Wars film that pushes the narrative forward and is also creatively original since The Empire Strikes Back.
• Alan Tudyk’s role as the droid K-2SO is a sad bastardization of his role as Wash, the comedic pilot from the short-lived series Firefly and its follow-up film, Serenity. It stinks of desperation, with bad jokes shoved in at odd moments, as if the filmmakers are afraid of people sitting still for 60 consecutive seconds and having their own thoughts.
• What’s the importance or significance of the crystal Jen’s mother gives her as a child? This is, apparently, a kyber crystal, which Jyn expositionally tells another character are used to power2 lightsabers. Kyber crystals are also the fuel the Empire is harvesting for the Death Star’s laser. But what does any of that have to do with the necklace? Jyn’s mother tells her to trust the Force, and the blind aspiring Jedi seems to sense the necklace on Jyn’s person; does the necklace have some kind of, I don’t know, Force resonance or something? Why does Jyn have it? What does it add to the narrative? What would be missing from the narrative if the necklace didn’t exist?
• The blind aspiring Jedi is named Chirrut. His helper/friend is named Baze. I had to look both of those names up after the movie, because I had no idea what they were from the film. That’s a problem.
Why was no effort made to make any of the characters feel remotely real, even as stock archetypes? The names of all Rogue One characters mentioned in this post have been checked against IMDb because I remembered almost none of them, even before the credits rolled.
• The hologram message Galen leaves for Jyn is almost a hilariously rushed exposition dump. You can see Mads Mikkelsen working to spit out everything before his time is up. That’s a big problem with Rogue One: it relies more on people telling you something happened than on you being able to see it happen. Saw and Jyn’s discussion of their time together has the same false ring. Are we to understand that he abandoned her? They were in some army together? How did that abandonment play into Jyn’s father issues?
• There are so many desperate, cloying attempts to remind people of Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back that it feels as if some basic law of storytelling has been violated. The ugly, angry guy from the Mos Eisley cantina shows up here to bump into someone and threaten them. The hatch Jyn lifts herself through is copied from the Millennium Falcon, specifically a shot at the end of Empire.
• Genuinely interesting idea left thoroughly unexplored: Galen Erso’s decision to become a collaborator with the Empire so that he could build a weakness into the Death Star, and what it means to make a moral judgment to become an accomplice in the murder of millions in hopes of saving billions. Can you imagine that weight? More importantly, can you imagine an intelligent thriller that reckons with that weight?
• It’s tough to feel any of the suspense the movie clearly wants you to feel, since we already know the plans are going to be successfully stolen and transmitted to the rebels. The mounting number of complications (hook up that thing! now climb that thing! move that other thing!) are just kicking the can down the road in an attempt to draw out the sequences and make it feel more robust. When the ending isn’t in doubt, the story has to be about the people, and what they’re experiencing. That was almost nonexistent.
• Why on earth is Peter Cushing, who died in 1994, resurrected via CGI for this film? Could no one think of a story that didn’t involve his Tarkin character? Did no one stop to think about the oddness of having a CGI human walking around through the frame? The franchise is, obviously, no stranger to special effects, and its human actors have been talking to puppets, green screens, and CGI creations for 40 years now. But there’s a vast difference between an alien created by animation and that animation’s attempts to want us to believe that the human being standing before our eyes is a real one, not a ghastly cartoon. Who in their right mind thought this was a good idea? How on earth can disbelief be suspended this much? Similarly, why was that abominable treatment used to render a young Carrie Fisher? Did no one, at any point, understand how uncomfortable and weird and sad this would look?
• Was there, at some point, a better movie here? While movie trailers are never wholly representative of the movies themselves, and while it’s common for trailers to include things that don’t make the final cut, the discrepancy between the trailer’s description of the plot and characters and the film’s depiction of same is jarring. The trailer featured, among other things, the shot of Jyn in a stormtrooper outfit in a tunnel designed to evoke The Empire Strikes Back; the TIE fighter rising up to meet her as she walked across scaffolding; Saw’s lines about “what will you become”; the whole “I rebel” thing. Things seemed to be fundamentally different at some point. Director Gareth Edwards has also said that the film’s reshoots more than tripled the number of effects shots, which would track with a corporate desire to bludgeon people into acceptance of a franchise instead of offering them a potentially challenging but rewarding story.
• The film’s decision to end in the minutes before the beginning of the first Star Wars film—indeed, to essentially staple its plot onto that one—is another potentially interesting idea that feels cheap and manipulative. This is a film, after all, that relies heavily at every turn on reminding viewers about older movies. By grafting itself onto the film that started it all, it’s essentially trying to borrow that film’s iconography and staying power, instead of finding some for its own. It is not an accident that so many people enjoyed that sequence: it was a re-enactment of something they already liked.