'The Last Jedi' Retrospective: How To Fix The Most Divisive 'Star Wars' Film

I don't hate The Last Jedi. It's far from a perfect film, but I was happy with a lot of the decisions that seemed to anger many Star Wars fans - particularly those regarding Luke Skywalker. However, before I continue, I do feel I should clarify one thing...

I don't love The Last Jedi. As much as I appreciate Luke's darker path and philosophical struggles, there was still a lot in this film that just didn't sit right with me. There was a lot that simply didn't feel like Star Wars. But what surprises me is that the moments that felt wrong to me aren't the ones that are most often complained about.

While Luke turning his back on the Jedi Order, Snoke's sudden death and the reveal around Rey's parents have all drawn criticism, I have no issue with any of these moments. They're unexpected and they force the story in a direction we've not seen before. Similarly, Rose Tico and Admiral Holdo come under frequent fire from certain corners of the fanbase (but I think we all know which corners and why these characters are singled out), whereas they barely cross my mind when I consider my issues with The Last Jedi.

So, where does the film go wrong? Where does it stop feeling like Star Wars? My key issues would be the following:

- Jokes that feel too contemporary or that seem to be at the expense of Star Wars.

- Canto Bight. Everything about this location.

- Benicio Del Toro's DJ - his character arc, or lack thereof.

- The handling of Kylo Ren's backstory/Luke's reason for losing faith in the Jedi.

Okay, let's address that last one quickly, because I know what you're thinking. Yes, I said I liked Luke's story in this film. And to be honest, I didn't hate the flashback to him almost killing Ben Solo - I understood where Rian Johnson was coming from in a way most meme-happy detractors seemed to miss. But the moment was poorly executed and has never felt like a satisfactory beginning to Luke's self-imposed exile.

Luke's supposed to be high on his own legend in this moment. He believes himself an insurmountable Jedi Master. He senses the dark side in Ben and moves quickly to eradicate it, before realising the horror of what he's doing. But given his history, his refusal to kill his own father, the idea he would so readily turn his blade against his nephew - in his sleep - just doesn't ring true. Nor does the idea that this fleeting moment sees Luke totally withdrawing from the galaxy.

So, here's what I propose: Luke tells Rey that Ben Solo encountered Snoke at an early point in his Jedi training. Maybe we get a little more Snoke backstory here. The important thing is this: while Ben was training in the Jedi arts under Luke Skywalker, he was already being tempted to the dark side by Snoke. Luke was obviously weary of the influence this mysterious dark-sider had over his student.

Reflecting on the end of his own training as seen in Return of the Jedi, Luke told Ben he must confront Snoke. If he were to become a Jedi, he had to overcome the great dark side influence in his life. This was Ben's challenge and his alone and so Luke refused to become involved. Feeling abandoned by his master, Ben set out to confront and destroy Snoke - but returned as his apprentice, destroying Luke's Jedi Order.

In this way, we see traces of Anakin's story mirrored in Ben ("It's like poetry, it rhymes"), with both young Jedi falling under the influence of a dark-side father figure when they felt let down by the Jedi. It also feels less out of character for Luke - after becoming a Jedi by redeeming his father, he won't consider killing his own nephew. Instead, he follows the ancient ways of the Jedi and watches them fail as Ben falls to the dark side.

Luke is therefore forced to confront not only his own failings as a teacher, but the failings of the Jedi Order. An important aspect of The Last Jedi's story is reassessing the mythology of Star Wars and the power of myth. Luke tries to kill Ben in the original because he has been blinded by his own legend and believes he could snuff out the threat of the dark side in an instant. The issue is this particular choice doesn't match up what we have seen from Luke in the original trilogy. So instead, let's have him try to implement the training that was laid before him.

As a result of this change, Luke is still shown as having grown arrogant and complacent as a result of his own legendary status. He did not believe he could fail as a Jedi Master and so did not question his own methods, resulting in him failing to support a vulnerable student when they needed it most. But now it is the ancient teachings of the Jedi Order that are at fault. Luke must question both himself and the principles of the Order. The myth of the Jedi starts to crumble before him. Consequently, his belief that "It's time for the Jedi to end" has more grounding than in the original film, where this idea seems to arise from his guilt over his own mistake.

Of course, ultimately, Luke is still set back on the right path before the movie's end. Rey reminds him that both Snoke and Darth Sidious would have risen even without a Jedi Order to combat them; she shows Luke that the galaxy needs defenders against the dark side and she comes to embody a wiser generation of new Jedi. Yoda still confirms that the destiny of masters is to be that which their students grow beyond. Luke realises the myth of the Jedi Order and the myth of Luke Skywalker have the power to inspire a greater generation of Jedi and so he projects himself across the galaxy to confront Kylo Ren and inspire hope once more.

And so, with a small change, Luke's story is saved. Everything else in his story can remain as it was. I've no interest in seeing Luke return as a two-dimensional, predictably badass vessel of fan service. Seeing him follow in the footsteps of his mythical forebears - King Arthur, or the heroes of Greek myth - by growing cold, fearful and misguided in his old age, then having to be redeemed by his younger heroic student, is far more compelling. He teaches Rey, but at the same time, Rey teaches him. And that's all there in Johnson's version. It just needs a slight tweak to get the message across more effectively.

Now. What was Rian Johnson thinking throughout the rest of this movie?

Let's start at the beginning. The first thing we see, straight after the opening crawl, is Poe Dameron confronting the forces of the First Order in his X-Wing. Cue a jokey exchange between Poe and General Hux in which Poe pretends he can't hear anything over the comms and the First Order general utters the words "I can hear you, can you hear me?" Shortly after, Poe makes a joke about Hux's mother.

In what we can safely call a first for the franchise, a Star Wars film has just opened with a Skype gag followed by a "your mum" joke. And in an instant, the franchise's tone as timeless high-fantasy melodrama is shattered.

Now, Star Wars has always had a sense of humour, there can be no doubt about that. I am certainly not asking for a "dark and gritty" Star Wars reboot. What worries me here is that these particular jokes suddenly anchor the film in our present day and age. In this moment, I feel a little less like I'm in a galaxy far, far away and a little more like I'm watching any other film made this side of 2010.

It continues in gags such as the landing craft that is revealed to be a clothes iron. Jokes like this appear to parody the tropes and cinematic language of the Star Wars franchise, brining an element of self-awareness that doesn't really belong here. Star Wars has a very particular, very heightened but sincere tonality. It's melodrama and it believes wholeheartedly in the melodrama. Poke too much fun at it within Star Wars itself and you risk breaking the audience's immersion in this fantastical world.

This issue, this break in immersion, extends beyonds the humor too. A good portion of The Last Jedi takes place in Canto Bight, a casino city on the planet Cantonica. Finn and Rose are sent here to track down the Master Codebreaker - a one-note James Bond pastiche, who Maz Kanata says can help the Resistance escape the clutches of the First Order. Upon reaching Canto Bight, we are greeted by the sight of a hover-yacht and a thousand space tuxedos.

Every facet of Canto Bight reeks of "generic sci-fi casino." It looks like a real-world casino, but the writing's in a fictional alphabet, the suits and gowns have a space-age twist and some of the games sit at a funny angle. Everything here feels like it could have come from any other forgettable sci-fi movie. BB-8 sticks out like a sore thumb, because the little droid whose design comes with notes of R2-D2 and X-Wings simply does not belong in this uninspired universe.

Star Wars locations are not like other sci-fi locations. George Lucas famously created a universe that was grungy and lived-in, but he did so much more than that. A cantina on Tatooine is carved out of sandstone, the machinery behind the bar is old industrial junk, and shady characters gather in shady alcoves. It is not simply a space-age/sci-fi bar - it is an organic extension of the environment in which it exists.

Rian Johnson could have looked to Coruscant or Cloud City for cues on luxury in the Star Wars universe. Instead, we get Casino Royale with a few more aliens milling about. Lucas drew on samurai films, Flash Gordon serials and war movies to inspire his work, but Star Wars' designs were always greater than the sum of their parts. They were unlike anything audiences had seen before. To this day, not a single original Star Wars film looks like any other sci-fi movie. Yet The Last Jedi's Canto Bight could just as easily have been slipped into Valerian and The City of a Thousand Planets and been right at home.

Step away from the recognisable casino design, give Cantonica its own culture and environment and then let that shape Canto Bight. Give us games that look like nothing we've seen in any real casino. Drop the tuxedos and evening gowns and give us exotic alien fashion, perhaps drawing on ancient attire or raypunk regalia. And lose the utterly baffling inclusion of a James Bond parody character in a Star Wars movie. Canto Bight could have been such a satisfying addition to the Star Wars mythos, but instead it felt like a step down from the creativity and distinctive voice of the franchise.

While in Canto Bight, Rose and Finn end up in a jail cell where they meet DJ - the amoral rogue played by Benicio Del Toro. DJ helps them escape and smuggles them onto a First Order ship to help them complete their mission, before he ultimately betrays them. Along the way, DJ reveals that an arms dealer who sells TIE fighters to the First Order has been providing X-Wings to the Resistance, something he posits proves war is "all a machine" with no real good guys or bad guys.

DJ thinks there is no good or evil. Finn thinks he's wrong. And they both keep thinking that way for the rest of the movie. In their final interaction, just after DJ has betrayed Finn and Rose, Finn tells him outright "You're wrong," to which DJ replies "Maybe." Finn stays true to his principles. DJ remains entirely without principle. His role in the film is to get Finn and Rose onto a star destroyer and then get them into a fight with the First Order. He fulfils this role and goes on his way without having been affected by his interactions with Finn and Rose at all. The Resistance heroes are similarly unaffected by their time with him.

With DJ questioning the very function of war, or the existence of good and evil, Rian Johnson almost dared to do something new in a Star Wars movie. Now, I don't think DJ's thinking would hold up too well in the Star Wars universe and so I'm not saying he should have changed Finn's mind. But there was a chance here to have Finn state the case for the conflict, the need to stand against the First Order and the machinations of the dark side for the greater good of the galaxy, and to back up that statement with an act of selfless heroism.

Had DJ's mind been changed as a result of his time with the Resistance heroes, the film might have here told a story about the need to stand against evil, a critique of cynical dismissals of morality. Even having Finn forced to question what he was really fighting for could have forced the film into bold new territory. But Johnson opts for neither. Had Finn and Rose simply snuck onto the star destroyer themselves and carried out their mission before getting caught by the First Order - no Canto Bight, no Master Codebreaker, no DJ - the film's story and message would have remained the same.

It feels like there was a real desire from Rian Johnson to tell a story about the need for myths and heroes; a story about how those heroes struggle to live up to their own legends, but how they must try to do so anyway. The Last Jedi dares to tell a story totally unlike those that have come before it and does not bow to pressure to deliver gratuitious fan service. However, there are moments when that ambition becomes lost and the story falls flat.

It's a shame to see a film that could have been the most beloved of Disney's Star Wars sequel trilogy lose itself - and lose track of Star Wars - a few too many times to succeed. It's the Star Wars film that breaks my heart the most, because it came so close to getting it right. The Force Awakens is a perfectly enjoyable, inoffensive Star Wars tribute act; The Rise of Skywalker is probably beyond saving without a total rewrite. But The Last Jedi may have just been a few small changes away from becoming a perfect Star Wars movie.