Movie Review: When I have to chew on my own tasty words, or, better, why writers matters

Social media. Can kill a person, ya know?

Cause I said something stupid there.

Seems I pointed out my aggravations about one of those stupid, insipid "Thank You for Coming to the Movies." I cannot remember what I wrote, exactly, but it was along the lines of, "if you actually made original content, maybe more blokes would buy fucking tickets, oy!"

The takedown was obvious, but I was too melonheaded to see the sucker punch. It was, basically, "why would I take my family of four to some shitty movies that I don't know will be worthwhile or not."

I think I retorted, "fucking read," but I deleted it.

But they were right, technically. Why would you? I started to put tartar sauce over my adverbs and began to think how to pepper my nouns for the luncheon of my own verbal spasms. Movies are, technically a crapshoot, and I had forgotten that. It's easy for me to whine and demand original content. I have only me and the husOtter to splurge on the large popcorn. But I also love the fucking movies. I read about them, stare at their websites, update myself on EW and TMZ.

But others? An open weekend? They may only know if a movie is animated.

And that's it.

Which brings me to this movie review. We treated ourselves to A Star Wars Story: Rogue One this past Chrsitmaskkah eve.

And it was glorious. I know the Star Wars, the first original trilogy, pretty well. I would splurge watching it every Sunday, when I had to run the vacuum or clean the aisles, at the video store I worked in during high school. I knew Darth Vader was Luke's father, I knew that many Rebel spies had died to get those plans to the Rebellion.

But what a different track each prequel would take.

See, Lucas, in desperate need for a new house, went ahead and gave us some pretty nifty prequels in the previous decade. I will tell you this, they looked beautiful. And, not only that, they were entertaining. But, really, I knew what was going to happen. Seriously. Anakin was going to become Darth Vader if his modeling career didn't come first and he could stop whining. Natalie Portman was just doing it for the residual paychecks, so she could make serious fare.

You better WERK! WERK IT, GRRL!

It's like when a car gets hit on the train tracks. You had to see this coming from a mile away! Why did  you drive onto the tracks!  How could you not have known what was going to happen in these prequel titles, either? Lucas showed us the outcome, and then the income.

Nothing lasted, thematically, in these prequels. It was like a very small cookie. Tasted great for a bite. Then, well, buy it on DVD or something.

Then? Then there was Star Wars: Rogue One.

See, Disney took over the franchise and they are into having just as many houses as dear Mr. Lucas. But they also know that fanboys like me can light up the blogosphere with a bit of a Twitter. So? What does the House of the Mouse do?

Contracts out. They go find young writers, directors, and newbies and give them a budget that makes them wet their pants and behave really, really well. And, by removing the great PooBah of Lucas, Disney gets something else. Someone who isn't close to the work and can see it with a clear and original and creative eyeball.

Rogue One is that piece.

See, with the other prequels? I knew. I read the tea leaves and the palmistry. In fact, I remember getting up to get food and go have a smoke....twice during Attack of the Clones. And I didn't ask what I had missed when I returned.

Writers matter. Those prequels did not have an author. They had a wunderkind.

These screenwriters for Rogue One, Chris Weitz, Tony Gilroy, John Knoll, and Gary Whitta took a story you THINK you'll predict and gave it an edge. They had enough mythos tucked away so that fanboys like myself (Yes, I watched Clone Wars and Rebels, also complete and original outings no where near Lucas' fickle typing fingers) would feel we're part of a larger universe, but newcomers and non-fans can see an old fashioned space opera with spaceships and laser blasts.

In this title, we have the story of the spies, led by Felicity Jones, playing the character Jyn. She's had a rough childhood, a rebel in her own right, living on the streets. But she's got a decent reason. Her father was an engineer who designed a super weapon to instill fear throughout the universe by way of the Empire. The rebellion needs to see him, stop this potential threat and enlist her help.

Does this super weapon that can destroy planets make my Empire look big?

The story is a spy movie, an actioner, that does, well, it's a gimmie that there's a bit of planning that goes into the tale, and because of that, the second act does get burdened down by a bit of tale-telling. This is alright, it had a third act that, well...

...yes, writer's matter. Because it is just a prolonged battle scene. I knew, in the back of my mind, that, as was to be predicted, many spies would die. But the filmmakers, under the horror director, Gareth Edwards, keep us wondering, if, yes, just a few might actually survive this.

That says something. That means the filmmakers, writers, performers, producers, and director gave us, in the audience some slice of the unknown, something unpredictable. We appreciated that, for we kept our eyes on that flickering screen.

This is one of the reason we buy large popcorns and sit in the front row. This was going to the movies. A swelling of music, a rush of adrenaline, yes, I liked the movie. There are just so many great bits to it.

For example, the video games are bogged down with everyone wanting to be a Sith Lord or Jedi and that means...yes, there's a shitload of Sith Lords and Jedis and the MMORPGs suck large moosecock. Not here. Not a Jedi in sight. There's a Jedi Temple guardian, but nothing more.

A beach battle is going really well, until, well, the camera follows one performer's line of sight out and up, and, towering above him, is an AT-ACT. A monster and it opens fire. Gareth Edwards cut his teeth on Godzilla and he knew how to illustrate the menace of immobile threat the size of a skyscraper.

ANOTHER diverse cast. A lead who is Mexican; a female heroine. Disney, in this department, is getting it.

I wouldn't mind them putting together a whole series of 'offshoots' from the main storyline. If it has this quality, I will be satisfied.

Yes, I learned my lesson. Yes, sometimes reboots are, well, they have the slight predictability that helps get the rows of the house filled. The caveat is, of course, on occasion, you have to mix in a little originality, too. Like here. Keep it going, people.

Peace.