Star Wars, Episode IX — The Rise of Skywalker: Breathless adventure

Star Wars, Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG-13, for sci-fi action and violence, and dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang

I’ve no doubt fans will be dazzled by this long-awaited concluding chapter in George Lucas’ original nine-part serial — how could they not be? — but this film will resonate even more strongly with those who were between the ages of 8 and 25 back when the original Star Wars debuted in May 1977.

With the remnants of the massive Death Star II towering against the pounding waves of
an oceanic moon, young Jedi Knight Rey (Daisy ridley, left) and the evil Kylo Ren
(Adam Driver) duel to the death with their light-sabers.

The sense of closure here will be far more emotionally powerful for that group. 

One generation of Harry Potter fans grew up with the books (1997-07) and subsequent films (2001-11), but followers of The Force have lived with these characters for 42 years. For those folks, the dramatic impact of this new film’s final 15 minutes defies easy discussion. Suffice it to say, we get laughter, tears, anxiety, relief, regret and — most crucially — satisfaction.

Along with the knowledge — bottom lines being what they are — that we certainly haven’t seen the last of this galaxy far, far away (as the new Disney streaming service’s The Mandalorian demonstrates).

Getting to this film’s finale, however, is almost too much to endure at times. Goodness, but our heroes suffer!

Director J.J. Abrams wisely plays to the faithful with this ninth “original series” installment, following the pell-mell serial format that Lucas established four decades ago. The best Star Wars entries always have relied on the “divide and conquer” approach, sending individual characters on crucial sidebar missions, while the core plotline inexorably advances toward an appalling outcome. This prompts cross-cutting between events, simultaneously building suspense in numerous directions.

We hit the ground running, as always, and the pace remains frantic. Everything is propelled by John Williams’ exciting orchestral score, blending long-familiar character themes with plenty of fresh cues.

Our current heroes — led primarily by apprentice Jedi Rey (Daisy Ridley), reformed mercenary Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac), and former First Order Stormtrooper-turned-good guy Finn (John Boyega) — learn that, horror of horrors, the “defeated” Galactic Empire’s evil-evil-evil Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid, returning to the role) still lives. Whether clone or spirit resurrected by foul Sith magic, the result is the same: Palpatine intends to resume his plan to dominate the universe.

To that end, he has overseen the construction of a massive fleet of First Order warships equipped with planet-killing cannons. Any world unwilling to be dominated … will be obliterated.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: A parable for our era

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for intense sci-fi violence and action, and brief profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.11.14

Given the long list of entries on the Hollywood odds-makers’ tote boards, the chances of a second cycle of Apes movies must’ve been the darkest of horses.

Malcolm (Jason Clarke, foreground) tries to forge an uneasy alliance with, from left, Caesar
(motion-capture performance by Andy Serkis), Koba (Toby Kebbell) and Maurice (Karin
Konoval), none of whom have much reason to trust humans.

And yet here we are, four decades later, three films into another incarnation of Pierre Boulle’s seminal sci-fi novel, re-shaped for a new global order.

If the original five films — from 1968’s Planet of the Apes to 1973’s Battle for the Planet of the Apes — felt like a thinly disguised commentary on the American civil rights struggle, this new series clearly speaks to the sadly intransient warfare between Israel and Palestine, or Shiite and Sunni, or any of half a dozen other sectarian-driven hot spots throughout the world.

And, as often is true of parables, there’s little comfort to be derived from this fantasy-laden depiction of such conflict. Some battles seem doomed to continue for eternity, despite the best efforts of noble heroes on both sides.

Tim Burton probably didn’t have such high-falutin’ notions in mind, when he remade the original Planet of the Apes in 2001. No doubt that’s why 2011’s Rise of the Planet of the Apes adopted a fresh approach, with director Rypert Wyatt and scripters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver telling a thoughtful story about the desperate — and foolish — measures that can be prompted by grief. (One hopes the impetuous scientist given a template in Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Frankenstein remains mostly a figure of cautionary fable, lest we foolish mortals get ourselves into even more serious trouble.)

Jaffa and Silver have returned for this sequel (threequel?), with a scripting assist from Mark Bomback, while Matt Reeves takes over the director’s chair. The result isn’t quite as relentlessly heartbreaking as was the case with Rise, nor does this new film play the human-beings-are-cruel-thugs card quite as often (for which I’m grateful).

That said, matters have moved in the grim direction foretold by the previous film’s cliffhanger conclusion, with a highly contagious (and woefully misnamed) “simian flu” wiping out all but a few scattered remnants of humanity. The ape colony founded in Northern California’s Muir Woods by Caesar, the previous film’s chimpanzee hero, has thrived; the hyper-intelligent chimps, gorillas and orangutans have built a vibrant community devoted to the democratic notion that all apes are to be cherished as equals.

And they’ve wondered, as numerous winters have passed, if human beings have wiped themselves out completely.

Austenland: What would Jane say?

Austenland (2013) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rating: PG-13, for sexual candor and inneundo
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.6.13

This film is completely bonkers.

In the best possible way.

Determined to take control of her fantasy vacation, Jane (Keri Russell, foreground) bats
her eyes at "Col. Andrews" (James Callis, left), while an irritated "Henry Nobley" (JJ Feild,
right) prepares to bolt. These shenanigans are viewed with alarm by Mrs. Wattlesbrook
(Jane Seymour, right rear), whose carefully orchestrated plans seem to be going awry.

Austenland is a gleefully barbed swipe at über-fans who take their passions far too seriously, to the point of becoming social outcasts.

Initially restricted to Trekkies who’d craft elaborate costumes for sci-fi conventions, such behavior recently has accelerated through the mainstream, captivating (afflicting?) fans of pop-culture properties ranging from the Twilight books to, yes, Jane Austen’s novels. Indeed, Austen has begat her own sub-category of worship, whether affectionate or twisted: Bridget Jones’ fixation on Mark Darcy, in Helen Fielding’s two books, or Karen Joy Fowler’s clever Jane Austen Book Club (all of which have been made into films), and Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (also on its way to the big screen).

So while one might imagine that the events depicted in the adorably embroidered Austenland are the stuff of exaggerated farce ... well, maybe not. I’m perfectly willing to believe that such a business model could exist, and perhaps quite profitably. To paraphrase H.L. Mencken, nobody ever went broke overestimating the rabid devotion of obsessed Americans.

And while a college-level study of Austen’s books probably isn’t essential to the enjoyment of director/co-scripter Jerusha Hess’ charming comedy, a passing familiarity with the milieu will greatly enhance the experience.

Mousy Jane Hayes (Keri Russell), unhappy with her drab life, has taken solace in the elegantly romantic early 19th century British setting of Austen’s novels. Jane’s obsession has blossomed even further of late, her devotion to Colin Firth’s performance as Mr. Darcy in the 1995 production of Pride and Prejudice making it impossible for any 21st century boyfriend to compete.