Tag Archives: sci-fi

Seasons Change; or, Neoliberalism, White Nationalism and the Brooding Hero Doldrums

Tracking change in one’s self can be a bit of a stumbling block at times. How can I know when I’ve underwent a change? Is there any sort of clear sign that I’ve changed directions, or is it much more subtle that one day I wake up to find myself unsure of many of the ideas and things that I held dear previously? This is something that I’ve been grappling with on both a personal and professional level of late.

Personally because of the birth of my two boys, professionally because personal growth is linked directly with growth and change as a writer. Not only have I focused on some of the holes in my writing, but story concepts and what I tend to focus and and treat as important has changed drastically. This year has been quite a year for a lot of this change considering that it’s an election year and perhaps one of the oddest, most contentious that I’ve seen in my life thus far. 

Breaking things down to simply “liberal” or “conservative” feels crass to me, because there’s so much more to life than either A or B, and there always has been. When it comes down to it, do I favor one side? Absolutely, but this election in particular feels a lot less about that binary choice and instead an ideological landmine. The one side of the coin represents the resurgence in neoliberalism, which may indeed have some merits and shared concepts with the core of liberalism, but a lot of deviance from the core tenants and things that I surely don’t support. The other represents a whole plethora of things which is almost difficult to unwrap at times.

Voting for one side means letting corporations continue to reign supreme in this the age of Late Capitalism, but it also means continuing important social services, the rights of women, people of color, LGBTQA+ people, religious folk outside of Christians or Jews and many, many other things. On the other hand, it also means that the war machine will have no end in sight and siding with what has proven itself unable to defend off the claims of being “crooked” because, at their core, they are simply working a system that is broken much like many before them, but they know that most of it is shitty.

I can’t even fathom diving into everything about Donald Trump. No, not all Trump supporters are overall-clad hillbillies looking to lynch anyone different from them while waving the Confederate flag and blasting off their guns. At the same time someone like Trump has an appeal to people who feel marginalized and underrepresented, sick of things getting worse (at least for their perception) and who yearn for the days of old, where America was a nation of producers and not simply consumers and servicepeople. It’s the people who watch South Park and see the P.C. Principal and say, “Yeah! Why can’t I say what I want?” and entirely do so without irony or empathy towards other human beings. It’s the people who may not be overtly racist, bigoted or xenophobic, but can’t understand how life is for people other than themselves. We all live in the same country, right? We all have the same opportunities and live under the same laws, right?

At least to me, those are very, very flawed lines of thought and ignore the hardships that people outside of the white, middle class have experienced. If America is to be a great place, it needs to be a place of understanding and opportunity, even if it means that us white guys might find ourselves making concessions and that life might be a bit more difficult. No, I don’t have the same boundless opportunities that my grandfather or even my father had and no, my college education didn’t give me a step up over anyone (even though it was drilled in my head that it would) and that’s okay. The reality is that there are people that are just as smart, driven and talented as myself out there who haven’t been given as fair of a shake as I have; women, people of color, people of different religions or sexual orientation and that’s a bummer.

So while you might be wondering how this diatribe on modern politics links up with my own personal and professional growth, I’m getting there. Like I said before, I’ve got two kids to worry about now and the world is a weird place, which has caused me to do a lot of self-reflection. Part of caring for kids is watching TV. As much as most of us who have kids would like to pretend otherwise, feedings are tedious and not that interesting affairs that involve sitting in one place, holding a bottle and running through mechanical motions. There’s also the fact that after they go to sleep the idea of just how daunting and exhausting the whole thing is creeps up on my subconscious. After re-discovering the soundtrack to the show Cowboy Bebop I decided to repurchase the show in a digital, HD format and watch it again. That show meant a lot to me at one point in my life (or perhaps it was just the soundtrack) and I was wondering if it held up.

It didn’t.

Now wait, before you decide that I’m the worst and that Cowboy Bebop was awesome, hear me out. The whole show is essentially based on the whole idea of the lonesome, stoic hero and his journey of self-discovery, badassdom and his feeeeeeelings. The thing is, in retrospect, it’s not all-that deep and was just a kind of fun show about kung fu, spaceships, guns and dysfunctional people in ridiculous situations. A character like Spike may have appealed to a younger me, a loner me who felt disenfranchised and lost in the world, but for adult me it feels so alien. I have a family now, I have concerns beyond being some sort of complicated man who broods and tries to appear deeper than I really am. The episode where Spike confronts Vicious in the church at one point felt meaningful to me, now it just seemed comical. 

But that song, right? At least I still have Yoko Kanno, I guess.

This kind of reflection can be a bummer, but also enlightening. I’ve been working on diversifying a lot of what I write and trying to not only appeal to broader audiences, but to tell more interesting stories. The book that I’m working on was fun, but sort of derivative. That was kind of the point, but really, it was another story about another loner of a man living in a cruel world with a bone to pick. If Max Rockatansky could take a backseat to Imperator Furiosa to break the doldrums of the silent, cool hero, I could do that in my work as well. That meant taking a lead character that in a lot of ways was built off of the archetype of the Clint Eastwood/Mad Max mold, and shifting focus away from him.

I began the story over 12 years ago and picked it up as a bit of a vacation from my other books, then got wrapped up in it. Along the way I decided to add other characters to share the stage with their point-of-view, but he was still very much the focal point. That all changed when one day I was sitting there, staring at a revision of one of his chapters and said “Why am I focused on him at all?” The truth was, I had no idea. My favorite character wasn’t some heroic badass, it was the female engineer who had a complicated relationship with a rather simple, brutal idiot of a man.

So I decided to scrap his chapters, but keep him as a driving force of the action. He still exists, his badass fights and one-liners are still there, but seen through a different character’s perspective. So while he might be pushing the plot along, the story has morphed from a tale of sordid revenge and nihilistic views on humanity to the strength of a few people to survive the worst of conditions in a cruel, unforgiving world. The thing is, I enjoy this so much more and it has been a paradigm shift of my work of late.

For years the whole male power fantasy has been something for me to deride, but now I’ve finally found a way to write action without getting lost in those concepts. It also shows in what I consume now when it comes to media and art. Books like Daniel Abraham’s “Dagger and Coin” series have become far more interesting to me than the stuff that I used to read. I mean, it’s a book series that yes, features a brooding merc of a man with a complicated past who does heroic stuff, but it’s not his story, instead it’s the story of Cithrin, an orphan girl who was adopted by a banker at a young age who found her own path in a war-torn world through cunning over violence. It’s also very much about a chubby nerd who has a power fantasy, gets that power, but only to those looking from the outside, with him a prisoner in his own sad life and the pawn of the men who stood behind him in the shadows.

That’s the kind of stuff that we need more of, not the brooding hero with the murdered wife and kid being lost in the world. We’ve heard that story before and while it might resonate with a younger male, there’s enough of that for them already.

In a way, it’s very similar to why the new Ghostbusters movie wasn’t some awful affront to good taste that ruined childhoods. In fact, it was a fun movie that poked fun at itself and took a goofy concept that people grew up loving and put its own stamp on it. Sure, it was a remake/reboot in a world with too many of them, but if that movie alone has destroyed your childhood you are far more fragile than the people you jab at for being “SJWs” or whatever.

As much as I love Blade Runner, it was a simplified, overstylized adaptation of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep with a ton of the meat of the story cut out in lieu of beautiful, futuristic wide shots and for Harrison Ford to brood. I, Robot became a Will Smith summer blockbuster with zero real understanding of Asimov’s laws of robotics or what made his stories compelling. What I’m saying is; get over it, you aren’t special.

I’m not saying that I am, either, I’m just a guy that chooses to write about it all.

The Low Stakes and Lack of Emotional Connection of Westworld

On this here blog I posted reviews of Westworld episode one and two, with the intent of continuing forward and doing those weekly. The week three review is half-finished and has been sitting there, unfinished for well over a week now and I just watched episode four last night. Newborn twins are tough at times and finding time to watch a show then sit down and blog about it isn’t always easy. Plus, nobody really cares about Westworld in the face of The Walking Dead coming back, which, yeah, I won’t even get into that.

Anyway, what’s the matter with Westworld? We’re four episodes deep and there are fan theories, subreddits and comment sections degrade to obsessing about the minutiae of detail that is buried beneath the surface of this Jonathan Nolan-based show. I’m tossing in brother Nolan’s name because I feel like the work that he and his brother have done is important to understanding Westworld and why it’s just not that engaging.

Westworld isn’t very good. I really want to enjoy it, to find it to be the most awesome thing around and get obsessed with it. The thing is, I’m older now than I was when Christopher Nolan was churning out high-concept movies with big twists and I’ve grown a lot as a writer. This means that things stick out to me more now than they did back then. Where I would’ve been one of those people on an easter egg hunt prior, instead I’m saying, “Okay, but what about the plot? What about the characters?”

Because those are the things that matter. I’ll ask you this; which character do you care about the most now that we are about halfway through season one? Is it Teddy? William? Dolores? Maeve? The Man in Black? Bernard? If your answer is none of the above then we are in agreement. The problem with doing multiple point-of-views in writing is that in the beginning it’ll be difficult for the audience to really latch onto anyone and form an emotional bond with them.

Westworld has eschewed having a main character for having like eight main characters, which wouldn’t usually be a problem, except for that fact that this is the first season and there hasn’t been enough time to form an emotional bond with any of the characters. Maybe Dolores? I’m not sure, because she gets screen time, but in this last episode it felt minimal. Here’s the thing, you can absolutely build a story around an ensemble crew of protagonists, it’s been done before, but without an emotional hook it simply can’t work.

Let’s compare to HBO’s hit series Game of Thrones, the show that HBO is desperately hoping Westworld can replace. Game of Thrones follows a ton of characters and we care about just all of them at this point. The thing is, how did we get to this point? The answer is simple; Ned Stark was our anchor in season one.

Think about it for a minute and reflect on that first season and how Ned-centric it really was. The whole first season was about Ned being visited by the King, Ned being named the Hand of the King, Ned moving his family from their ancestral home to King’s Landing to serve his good friend, the King. Much of season one is the Stark family on the road to King’s Landing learning just how shifty and shitty the Lannister’s are, getting a lay of the land on some of the politics involves and growing to see Ned Stark through his own deeds and through the eyes of his children, friends and adversaries. That’s why near the end Ned’s (THIS IS A HUGE SPOILER, OBVIOUSLY) execution is so amazingly jarring; he was our anchor and guide to Westeros, he set out expectations, introduced us to a set of values and endeared the audience to his way of life.

It’d be like if Rick from The Walking Dead died before the end of the first season. Since that first season we’ve all had time to adjust to the lack of Ned, even saw Robb as the replacement Ned that we pulled for only for it to go horribly wrong, all the while the other characters and the world had been firmly established and there was no way that we’d stop reading or watching just because we lost our precious Ned. We had his family still, we had Dany and her dragons, we had the sharp-tongue Tyrian and the conflicted Jaime.

All of this because we were slyly focused on Ned Stark for most of the first book/season. Hell, I think of James SA Corey’s novel series (and now television series) The Expanse and how the first book focused just on two characters; Miller and Holden. Later on it branches out into a whole ton of different characters, including the crew of the Rocinante that have been established throughout the series.

You could make the “slow start” argument with Westworld, as shows like Breaking Bad for sure had a very slow start. In fact, while that show went down as one of the best in history, the entire first season is just a bit, well, whatever. The thing is, Walter White was your established protagonist early on and you were given reasons to care about him; he’s dying, he wants to provide for his family, he’s desperate. While the story moved slowly, there were still emotional hooks to keep the viewer somewhat engaged.

But none of that exists in Westworld. There is an ensemble of characters, but we see such little glimpses of each that their struggles, emotions and quests have no real value. So, the Man in Black wants to solve the puzzle, to find the “end game” of Westworld, but apparently all that we’ve learned about him over four episodes is that he’s sadistic inside of the park and that he’s incredibly wealthy and his company was involved in saving lives. This is all that we know, but the concept of the puzzle that he’s trying to solve is supposed to be the hook.

The Nolans have a history of style-over-substance and the whole, almost comical M. Night Shymlalan-style plot twist that is meant to BLOW YOUR FUCKING MIIIIIIND, MAAAN. That’s fine, plot twists are a real thing, but at a certain point it’s a gimmick. The whole reason that Christopher Nolan’s movies have done as well as they have is not only the MIND-BLOWING TWIST, but also that there is a story built there as well. Inception was all about the mind-fuck of dream-inside-of-a-dream and “what is really real,” but you had some reason to care about Leo’s character and his losses.

The same can be said for the rest of his movies, even Interstellar was based around the relationship of a father and daughter. But what is Westworld’s hook? There is a lot of meta-game sort of stuff buried in there, for sure. Everyone is talking about Dr. Ford’s ability to stop the hosts with a seemingly hidden trigger, debating if his little finger movement was the trigger, if it was a set of words or if it was telepathy. Perhaps there are trigger phrases and perhaps these have caused the androids having awakenings? While that’s great and all, it’s a trail of breadcrumbs that is meant to give deeper meaning to the world while there is absolutely nothing but surface-level stuff in the show.

This is HBO, which means ten episode seasons and we are halfway through. There’s nothing, no stakes, no characters to latch onto, no main story arc that matters. The story that has been established is that the hosts have a consciousness, even if they aren’t supposed to, and that there is inner turmoil within the park’s staff that may or may not be affecting all of this. Writing is not easy, especially when expectations are this high, but this is stuff that could’ve been established within an episode or two, not four.

So while everyone is so focused on finding the secrets of Westworld, they are missing the fact that there isn’t anything else beyond those secrets, just a thin veneer of a show without much going for it, much like Westworld the park, which is just a bunch of androids there for amusement but can’t actually have any impact on the guests whatsoever. Maybe that was what they were going for, but I sincerely doubt they’d invest this much money on a show that was meant to be worthless.

Westworld Episode Two: Chestnut; or, Introducing Another Protagonist

I’ll be the first to admit that my initial review of the first episode of Westworld was a bit on the brutal side. Truth be told, I wasn’t trying to tear the show apart, but I felt that analyzing a lot of the shows, movies and books with similar content was important to understand what HBO’s latest big-budget hypefest needed to live up to. Originality isn’t a must when it comes to a new piece of media, because, really, just about everything has been done before, it’s mostly about execution and the content itself.

The whole concept of Game of Thrones (or A Song of Ice and Fire) isn’t exactly wholly original; a high fantasy epic featuring multiple families and interwoven storylines. That isn’t new, it’s been done and it’s been done a lot. Hell, Martin’s inspiration for the show was history, it was the War of the Roses. Yet, he created rich, interesting characters, engaging storylines and the show built off of his work in the books and became a cultural phenomenon.

Westworld is at a disadvantage in that they are building this whole, huge world-within-a-world of a show with multiple protagonists and story threads while the original film was quite a bit more compact in scope. Make no bones about it, they are trying to create a new Game of Thrones for HBO and it’s not entirely clear yet if they’re stretching or not. All of this is happening without a backbone of a series of in depth novels to serve as a guide into this world.

This episode finally introduced what would be the original protagonist from the first film in the apprehensive visitor along with his over eager friend, William and Logan. The main character of the show is still probably Dolores. Probably. I don’t know. That’s a part of the issue here; they keep zipping between characters without giving them much room to breathe or develop yet. The first episode endeared us Teddy Flood and while he was a part of this episode, most of what he served as a guttural reaction to him being shot point-blank by a guest for no reason outside of pure fun before seeing his mangled, bullet-filled corpse in one of the diagnostic rooms afterwards.

In the first episode Ed Harris’s man in black was painted solely as a villain, but his quest to delve deeper into the inner-workings of Westworld and find this mysterious maze paints him in perhaps a different picture as a sort of antihero. Why? Because the park is, in and of itself, an oppressive apparatus that is holding back our dear hosts from being fully-actualized, sentient beings. They are there to be raped, murdered and berated before having their minds wiped. Sure, Ed Harris is killing them and being a sadistic asshole, but they are being wiped anyway, right?

The park overseers don’t want to get in his way, either. In fact, one of them even says “That man can do whatever he wants.” We continually hear that he’s been going to the park for over 30 years and that he’s seen and done it all, that this maze is his last secret to unlock. What they are trying to say with his character still isn’t entirely clear yet, but I’m still not ready to say that he’s anything but a sadistic asshole on a park-built adventure, the only kind that could interest a guy who is running around as an immortal being of sorts just killing and raping whomever he wants without having to worry about any danger at all.

Oh yeah, and the androids are becoming more sentient. Maeve put herself to sleep, then woke up on the operating table with everything in tact. This still seems like the main plotline, with Bernard and Dr. Ford believing themselves to be gods of some sort. Dr. Ford hints at the most immersive storyline to date at the end, with everything fading out to a cross. Is Ed Harris involved in this secret plot? Does Dr. Ford’s shunning of Sizemore’s latest hedonistic, sadistic, yet cookie-cutter adventure lead to more tampering with the AI’s?

The seeds have been planted for what will be going haywire in the coming episodes and chances are we’ll see everything converge by the eighth episode or so, but here’s hoping to not introducing any new characters or plots next week. They need to get these main threads moving or else who cares where they are heading?

Westworld Episode One: The Originals; or, Do Androids Dream of Flies On Cheeks?

For the past few months I had a big ole’ platform to write about stuff like pop culture, entertainment and news. Since I no longer have that platform (along with quite a few of my former coworkers), I don’t have anywhere to talk about the debut of Westworld. Sure, I’d probably only sneak in a little fragment of a thought here and there, but it would still go somewhere. Westworld is one of those shows that had some hype behind it, trailer-after-trailer, interview-after-interview with the anticipation growing.

Westworld is based upon the ’73 Michael Crichton film that he both wrote and directed. Needless to say, while Crichton has a place in pop culture due to film adaptations of his novels, I’m not sure that Crichton should be considered one of the masters of science fiction by any stretch of the imagination. A topic like artificial intelligence is one that has been hashed and rehashed so many times that it’s increasingly rare for anything to actually be worth consuming.

Yeah, we get it, the stuff that we build rebels and is our sad reflection. Cool. These androids can also have internal struggles that mirror the struggles that certain groups of people go through. We’ve seen that, as well.

Even by ’70s standards I’m not sure that Westworld has the same level of depth that we’ve come to expect for such a topic. To wit, in 1968 Philip K. Dick published Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep which explored the concept of artificial intelligence, human empathy and our own existential grief. Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws of Robots had existed for over twenty years at this point. What I’m trying to say is that it had already been done and done better prior, which isn’t a bad thing, just a fact.

The premiere episode of HBO’s Westworld was a 72-minute long slog through a muddled retread of a narrative concept, but with that HBO shine. Perhaps it’s simply how HBO shows are; they show promise, show slick production, big names are attached to the project, then the show flounders on its own until HBO decides to pull the plug. While I know some fans of Boardwalk Empire, that show was the perfect example of that HBO bloat, and recently Vinyl is probably an even better example of that.

It isn’t that Westworld is inherently bad — or not interesting –, it’s that the very core of the concept feels dated. By now we’ve seen the Terminators rise up against humanity, we’ve seen Wall-E be the sad little robot on a destroyed planet, we’ve seen the Reapers wipe out humanity in cycles when humans get too advanced in AI and we’ve seen Replicants try to extend their lives.

In a case like this, the marketing and presentation only helps to make this show seem more important than it really can be. Recent films like Her and Ex Machina did a stellar job of taking a different approach to artificial intelligence, while still touching on those core chords of human fragility reflected in its need to play god and recreate itself. Westworld is presented as something important, like a television event, when it wasn’t.

I’m not entirely sure what purpose this episode had outside of making eyes roll. They established about a million characters, hinted at the park’s true nature earlier on before revealing all, made allusions to things about to go haywire and showed the evolution of a few of the characters within this animatronic world. But the worst sin is that it dragged on. We get it, Ed Harris is a bad, bad dude, but his character is borderline comical within the framing of this episode.

Anthony Hopkins is creepy and just wants his creations to be more and more real, Liz Lemon’s husband is actually a robot but he’s got those feeeeeeeels and his girlfriend — who was programmed to never harm a living thing — can hurt a fly now. It was as boldfaced of a plot point as there could be, with the sheriff malfunctioning earlier on in the episode because a fly landed on his cheek and he was unable to kill it, so he just twitched until the patrons took off.

The thing is, not everything needs to be new and exciting, conceptually. The film 28 Days Later took one of the most tired and trite genres in modern day entertainment that is the zombie film and owned it. The follow-up, 28 Weeks Later was the polar opposite and settled into the mundanity of the genre conventions, helping to drive what could have been a franchise into the toilet. Ex Machina touched on a lot of the conventions that come up with AI stuff, but focused so much on intimate, human emotions over blockbuster action that it felt fresh in the face of this convention.

A show like Westworld could embrace the pulp of being a western along with the retread sci-fi allure of rogue androids — and perhaps it will — but instead this first episode felt like they laid out a rather clear road map for where the show is headed and that it’ll just be another one of those shows that will get hyped early, only for viewers to lose interest after a while. All of it neatly packaged with big names in the credits, a few familiar faces on the screen, a whole lot of tits and even more blood and gore.

The Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens Trailer Adds Gravity to the Universe

Years passed and my craving for science fiction never relented, I just moved on to different things. The Dune series, everything Star Trek, SyFy’s great relaunch of Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, the Expanse books and the truly fantastic Babylon 5. While it may be difficult to find a lot of truly great science fiction, there is some out there if you are willing to look and sift through everything else. Fans of science fiction tend to overlook faults when looking for something to grasp onto, so there are shows, books and movies that may not be that great that have gotten a pass over the years (I really don’t understand the appeal of Farscape after watching two seasons).

No matter what, though, I can’t seem to escape Star Wars. In fact, hundreds of dollars of Star Wars Lego sets adorn my office right now with that showing no sign of stopping any time soon. The announcement of Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens and who was attached to it did initially get me excited, but that quickly faded because of past disappointments. Disney went on to destroy the Expanded Universe of novels, games and comics that were built up over most of my lifetime heading into this, all to launch a new universe of novels, comics, television shows and games. What I’ve seen of this new universe thus far is far from inspired (outside of the Rebels show), instead run by a committee and most likely shackling any sort of creative decisions made by the authors.

Yet.

Yet the release of the Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens final trailer has made me a believer. Crazy, right? Truth be told this is absolutely everything that had been bothering me about the impending release was assauged by this trailer. There were questions that were left unanswered (was that Luke with the metal hand and R2-D2? Why isn’t he on the posters? Who is this new Sith? Is the new Sith Luke?). The new characters that we’ve had glimpses of in trailers and stills were framed in a way that made them truly interesting and left me wanting to know more about them and most importantly, this new saga looks to add some important framework that never really existed in the Star Wars universe.

Star Wars was an epic war story told through the eyes of the main heroes and villains of said war. The prequel trilogy was simply expanded backstory that did help to add some framework and sense of gravity to the original trilogy, but it was more jamming as much backstory in as possible than fleshing out the universe.

Even back to my youth it bothered me that there was so little seen outside of the black and white, good and evil of war. Who were the Rebellion? Why did they break off from the Empire? Who were they helping? Were there actually common people or was everyone just a Stormtrooper or a Rebel? Like I said, some of this was addressed in the prequels, but not much really was. Star Wars always lacked anything anchoring the universe to reality, to making the struggle seem valuable.

The Empire was evil, you see, run by SITH LORDS and the dark side of the Force, even though most of the Imperials thought it was an old, hokey religion. Sometimes the battle between good and evil felt like a choice of color palate more than an actual struggle of ideological differences. Imperial ships and bases were just filled to the brim with nothing but military and Rebel installments weren’t much different. The only planet really given any color was Tatooine and that was one of a forgotten border planet that was filled with smugglers.

Who manufactured the ships, the weapons and the clothing? Where were any of these things bought? Luke was going into Tosche Station to pick up some power converters, but what the hell did that mean (there was actually a later released deleted scene showing this, I’ll grant you that). Was that some sort of retail location? How was there an “Academy” where Luke’s friend Biggs could train and end up as a Rebel? Were they really so brazen about this? Over the years authors working on the Expanded Universe had helped to breathe life into these issues, but with those being wiped away now there shouldn’t be more excuses.

The films themselves lacked this context. Instead there was a laser focus on the struggle itself and the heroes and villains. What this new trailer has shown is indeed that there will be new heroes, heroines, villains and villainesses, but most importantly, how these people were impacted by everything else that happened.

“Those stories about what happened…”

“It’s true. All of it.”

Those few lines of dialogue alone help to build up and flesh out the Star Wars universe more than we’ve seen in so long. The derelict hulks of ships on Jakku provide context to what happened after that final, fateful battle in Return of the Jedi and each character that is shown, in just a few simple words, are given context, motivation and depth beyond what any character in the prequel trilogies were given over the span of three films. Bravo. I’m very much looking forward to this.

Finally, Star Wars has some gravity to it.