Star Wars: The Last Jedi

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

This review may contain spoilers.

Legends are born by purifying imperfection; myths, just grand illusions fabricated through time. At this point and above all else, this sequel trilogy seems to *be about* the faultiness in romanticization, about how so often, deities are undeserving of worship, and that reality is a cracked container full of the mistakes of heroes.

Conflict and tragedy are cyclical, the generations rhyme. But if the future is to ever actually shine with a graspable hope, the past needs to become a memory, not a repeating present. Fans need to let go of their odd obsessions and welcome new beginnings. Star Wars is no longer a saga of blood-borne greatness, but one where hope emerges from the discarded and broken.

I thought I was ready to write something substantial, but I need at least one more viewing. I do know that the second time around, I was an emotional mess. With the totality of context, the images are even more mythic, even more tender and soul-scraping.

I feel humbled by this movie.

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