What keeps us interested in a great story? Carlo considers Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (with spoilers!) and writer/director J.J. Abrams’ approach to death and loss.

Let me start by telling you two stories. Tell me which one resonates more.

ONE

“Ouch.”

The smoke from Liz’s singed skin rose. She had reappeared at the beginning of the laser-crossed corridor after her second disintegration. Her five companions egged her on from the other side as she braced herself to run.

“Third time’s the charm…”

TWO

“No…”

In the middle of the laser-crossed corridor, the smoke from the ashes of Liz’s five companions rose. Her stomach sank as she glanced back at her pursuer, returned to the lasers and braced herself to run.

“It’s now or never…”

Did you like #1 better? If so, perhaps you found Liz’s repeated escapes from laser-death intriguing. How is she able to cheat the grave so casually? Is this a video game world?

But perhaps you liked #2 better. Ask yourself, “Why?” Was it the sense of loss and finality evoked by the ashes of Liz’s friends? The sense of urgency knowing she was being chased, and had one shot to run the gauntlet or die?

It’s one thing to read those short pieces devoid of additional context. But what if I told you these excerpts were from a climactic moment in a longer story, be it a book or movie? With #2, you might lean in closer with bated breath. Real loss. No time. No margin for error. But with #1, perhaps you’d yawn.

Reader, when it came to The Rise of Skywalker, I yawned. I’m a long-time Star Wars fan, it was the climactic battle of a saga-ending movie, and I found it difficult to care about what was happening. Why? There are multiple reasons, including an extremely unbalanced focus on plot and exposition over character development. (For more, listen to my wife’s podcast where we discuss TROS in more detail here!). But there are other storytelling reasons that determine whether we care about a story or not, whether we’re conscious of those reasons or not while reading, listening to or watching it unfold.

Certainly, there’s more than one way to end a saga. But how can you tell if franchise ship-steerers are interested in telling the best story they can or taking the easy way out with fan service? Here’s one question among many for storytellers at the helm:

How willing are you to kill off characters in the service of story? (Especially long-time, beloved characters)

Mortality is a powerful tool in the storyteller’s kit. Have you seen Edge of Tomorrow (2014) with Tom Cruise and Emily Blunt? If not (and you like sci-fi), go see it. The premise is fascinating: in the middle of a war between aliens and humans, a man finds that he cannot die. Or rather, he does die, but wakes up at the beginning of the day a la Groundhog Day (or more recently, the fabulous Russian Doll).

Early on, it’s remarkable how the movie stays tense and entertaining despite Cruise’s invincibility. (Spoiler alert!) However… as we head towards the movie’s climax, Cruise loses the ability to “respawn” as it were. He is out of extra lives. The safety net is gone, and on the final mission suddenly the stakes are so much higher. It’s the difference between playing a level in Super Mario Bros. with one life vs. 99. Whether as a player or observer, you start to care more knowing that what you have now is all you’ve really got.

A real sense of mortality and loss is one reason why The Last Jedi started out with such potency for me. How many Resistance fighters were lost in the opening attack on the Dreadnought? We’re introduced to Paige Tico, one such fighter who gives her life for the cause—and we don’t see her return. Her death casts a shadow over the rest of the film and impacts at least one character arc (her sister, Rose). In my mind, I’m thinking, “Okay. This is a real war.” Sometimes soldiers don’t come home. There is no inexhaustible supply of troops or resources that can be conjured up on either side. (Unless you’re in The Rise of Skywalker, where this occurs casually on both sides of the struggle. The Resistance rolls up with the rest of the known galaxy to counteract the sudden appearance of the grandest fleet the Dark Side has ever known—Star Destroyers equipped with Death Star-caliber firepower. Man, if the First Order had even a few of those ships earlier on… but I digress.)

Because The Last Jedi opens with loss, I understand that losses are possible. And when Snoke croaks earlier than anyone expected, suddenly the demise of anyone else is fair game. This isn’t fighting with kid gloves or jousting with oversized cotton swabs like American Gladiators. Real stakes create real interest.

Let’s compare TLJ with The Rise of Skywalker’s approach to death. The first time I sat up and took notice in TROS was when it seemed Rey destroyed the transport Chewbacca was on with Force lightning. Whoa. The unceremonious manner of his apparent demise was raw. Shocking. Intriguing. Rey using a Dark side power to kill someone she loved? Shades of the Emperor convincing Anakin he killed Padme in his anger came to mind. Will Rey have to bear this guilt the rest of her life? Like Luke and the guilt of single-handedly turning Ben Solo into Kylo Ren? Is Chewie really gone? 

But “no one’s ever really gone”—especially in J.J. Abrams’ eyes. A few scenes later, we learn that Rey shot down the wrong transport. My bad. Chewie is still alive, and with all due respect to our furry friend, any hope of gritty character development and raised stakes because of lost loved ones is squandered. Chewie used Plot Armor. It was super effective! (I can hear Disney executives breathe a sigh of relief. “The Chewie spinoff is still in play, boys! We are back in business…”)

The TROS fake-out of real losses and consequences happens again when it seems C-3P0 will make an ultimate sacrifice: his memory for the Resistance cause. Ah, but no worries, R2-D2 has a backup. (Moral of the story? Back up your data, people… clouds don’t cover the earth for nothing.)

Since we’re speaking of death, TROS’s entire plot is predicated on the fact that Emperor Palpatine somehow survived getting shocked with his own Force lightning in Return of the Jedi (not the first, not the last…), falling down a reactor shaft, and the Death Star II exploding. Sure, maybe there’s cloning and all kinds of Dark Side shenanigans involved, but it’s sad how Episode 9 actually cheapens the deaths and heroic actions of others across earlier movies. (For one thing, Anakin’s quest to save Padme from death becomes an even greater tragedy. Sorry, dude.) Palpatine’s presence felt shoehorned in to me in general. 

Okay, I get it though- as a storyteller, it’s tough to kill your darlings. And the higher profile the franchise, the longer running the franchise, the more beloved the character—the more difficult it is to kill a major character off for any reason. But when storytellers are afraid of death, they don’t often realize that something else dies instead. Because when Force healing of mortal wounds and timely resurrections seem too easy, it’s high stakes tension and the value of sacrifice that get put in the ground. Emotional resonance is diminished, and it can lead to an indifferent audience. Why should we so much as flinch if a character dies, knowing they can come back at any time?

A desire to cheat death is common in our world. And lest we forget, Abrams and co. are operating within a universe where the dead have spoken since the beginning (see: Obi-Wan in A New Hope) and have become more active in recent installments (see: Yoda in The Last Jedi and Luke in Rise of Skywalker). But when it comes to good storytelling—and my dream for the future of Star Wars—sometimes it’s better to leave what is long-dead in the ground and simply grow something new from its ashes.

Abrams’ ending to The Rise of Skywalker seems to finally espouse this maxim, showcasing Rey returning to Tatooine (where it all began) for a bittersweet burial. Yet even as Rey buries old lightsabers in the sand, in the search for a new identity she looks to familiar ghosts and reaches for an old name. Sometimes the best way to honor the dead is to let them rest.

For more on The Rise of Skywalker, check out my wife’s new Sari-Sari Podcast. We discuss the new movie in more detail.

Coming later this month: Carlo’s annual Favorite Movies and Most Anticipated Movies posts. Good times!

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