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#as i understand it. or at least it's speculated. that elements of samurai 8 are being carried over to boruto
alteredphoenix · 8 months
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I'm honestly not sure why Kishimoto Masashi hasn't done any other stories that isn't Naruto (well, there's Samurai 8, but that ended up cancelled, and Boruto is...well. It's Boruto But Let's Disassemble Boruto's Dad's Canon Until Not Even The Atoms Are Left).
Compared to the high fantasy ninja-cum-borderline-modern-day-cyberpunk aesthetic, Mario was such a breath of fresh air. Maybe not as lived in as Naruto (because it's a forty-four page one-shot, and you can't really afford to waste time on making New York feel "lived in" in that many pages), but it's so grounded in reality that the environment and the foundations of the story are already set in place. It doesn't have to worry about playing with the Magic System or keeping its chronology from getting tangled up in retcons and deus ex machina. It's short, it's simple, and gets right to the point while leaving many of its other elements inferred and in the background.
#as i understand it. or at least it's speculated. that elements of samurai 8 are being carried over to boruto#hence why it's moved away so quickly from naruto's 90s tech to an almost postmodern cyberpunk era#as well as teenage punk and grunge aesthetic that can almost be called dystopian#it's why - for me - boruto has felt less 'ninja fantasy' and more 'urban fantasy but throw in space-faring alien leeches into the mix'#especially with the arrival of two blue vortex#but the problem with the otsutsuki is how utterly last minute they are in canon#w/ no buildup whatsoever#and its timeline is such a mess that a plate of spaghetti looks more coherent#mario doesn't have that problem#it's set in 2003 new york about a guy in the mafia who takes on jobs to earn money for the sake of money#who eventually teams up with a female hitman in order to earn his own territory#there's mention of his late yakuza mother and how the hitman he's working w/ looks like her#as well as his necklace in the shape of the libra's scales that play into his ties between his mother & his partner#BOOM it doesn't waste ANY time faffing around. the plot just gets right to it#it's an interesting little oneshot that unfortunately doesn't really leave room for continuation#due to the way the ending doles out his fate#like. kishimoto has the POTENTIAL for constructing tight storycrafting#we saw this in the minato one-shot recently#he just needs to do what HE wants to do and not try to aim high#a'la try to make it another naruto/boruto#armi reads manga#manga
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dweemeister · 6 years
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NOTE: The following contains full spoilers and the beginning (not the end) of a moral discourse that could not have been in my review to The Force Awakens.
Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017)
Walt Disney Pictures is about to win the 2017 box office by releasing only nine films (in order): Beauty and the Beast (March), Born in China (April), Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (April), the fifth Pirates of the Caribbean (May), Cars 3 (June), Jagga Jasoos (July; a Bollywood film), Thor: Ragnarok (October), Coco (October), and now Star Wars: The Last Jedi. This will be a record low – unimaginable in previous decades where a major studio might release a few movies per month or one per week. As Disney moves to make fewer films every year – this is code for only producing larger-budget franchise blockbusters or live-action remakes of their animated classics and sacrificing Hollywood’s traditional bread-and-butter of low- and mid-budget movies – Star Wars may be the last cinematic experience that might be described as communal. In a fractured media landscape, individual tastes are being catered to, but there is less that unites society. Movies catering to major movie franchise fans and “arthouse/indie” cinephiles (permit me this generalization) are less likely to play in the same theaters, and neither groups are likely to give the movies that the other group likes a smidge of attention. Star Wars, by sheer popularity and its callbacks to classic Hollywood, bridges this divide.
The Last Jedi is the eighth episode in the saga, immediately following the events of The Force Awakens (2015). Rey (Daisy Ridley), along with Chwebacca (Joonas Suotamo; the retired Peter Mayhew served as consultant) and R2-D2 (Jimmy Vee), is on a lush island on Ahch-To (bless you!) hoping to be trained in the ways of the Force by Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill). Meanwhile, in the aftermath of the First Order’s (a splinter of planetary systems from the dissolved Galactic Empire) decapitation of the New Republic’s government in the last film, the Resistance (distinct from the New Republic’s military; think of the Resistance as a Republic-sponsored insurgency/liberation paramilitary operating in First Order territory... thanks J.J. Abrams) is attempting to evacuate from the First Order fleet. General Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher in her last screen role; none of her scenes were altered/rewritten in post-production) is in command, and underneath her are Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo (Laura Dern) and more familiar faces like Finn (John Boyega) and Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac). We are also introduced to a Resistance maintenance worker, Rose Tico (Kelly Marie Tran). Within the First Order, Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) is concocting a fiendish scheme as Supreme Leader Snoke (Andy Serkis) wants Kylo to use Rey to kill Luke.
Other characters that appear are: droid BB-8 (puppeteers Dave Chapman and Brian Herring), protocol droid C-3PO (Anthony Daniels, who is now the only actor to have appeared in all Star Wars films with Kenny Baker’s passing), First Order General Hux (Domhnall Gleeson), a codebreaker named DJ (Benicio del Toro), Resistance ally Maz Kanata (Lupita Nyong’o), and the First Order’s Captain Phasma (Gwendoline Christie).
The Last Jedi sometimes recalls the worst impulses of The Force Awakens, which was weakened by too closely adhering to the plot outline of A New Hope (1977). We see uncomfortably close parallels yet again in The Last Jedi: the visual similarities between the Battle of Hoth (The Empire Strikes Back’s opening) with the film’s climax on Crait, thematic callbacks to Return of the Jedi (1983) when Rey is dragged into Snoke’s throne room (dark side students betraying masters; the use of red here made me think I was watching a Vincente Minnelli musical for a moment), and small portions of Rey’s training with Luke (such as another trippy cave filled with dark side vibes; otherwise, the Rey-Luke scenes were fine). But The Last Jedi is more committed than its predecessor to developing its epic themes and attempting to critique/reconfigure Star Wars’ ethos of light and dark, good and evil. Both are honorable pursuits and depicted sufficiently, but terrible editing and a disorganized screenplay from director-writer Rian Johnson (2012′s Looper) takes too much focus away from The Last Jedi’s achievements.
Star Wars’ Manichaeism – outside the underrated Revenge of the Sith (2005) – has never been truly challenged within the cinematic saga. The best writing noting the nuances of morality has appeared in other Star Wars media: the Knights of the Old Republic video game series and, to a lesser extent, Dave Filoni’s animated television series Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars Rebels. For a series whose roots come from two closely-related genres regarded for their moral complexities – samurai movies and American Westerns – this is mystifying.
But for The Last Jedi, there is an attempt to challenge, or at least an expansion of, this duality. It is in Luke that we see this reckoning with what he has unleashed. Years ago while still rebuilding the Jedi Order, the now-reclusive Skywalker detected that the young Kylo Ren – then in training under Luke – had been corrupted by Snoke. Luke contemplated killing his student, his nephew. A tragic misunderstanding ensued, resulting in Kylo Ren’s destruction of the Luke’s Jedi temple and the deaths of numerous Jedi apprentices. Regret has consumed Luke – here, regret is not an emotion associated with the dark side, but it prevents the personal balance and peace that Jedi seek. Luke believes himself culpable in the deaths of his students and that inner turmoil has disconnected him from the galaxy-at-large, severing his ties to others who care and would remind Luke that he can still learn and grow from his failure. Mark Hamill’s criticisms aside (legitimate as they are and as much as I agree with him), this is the most eloquently-written characterization in the Star Wars sequel trilogy.
Take the third line of the Jedi Code: “There is no passion, there is serenity.” Combined with the first line of the Code (“There is no emotion, there is peace,” – which I interpret not as emotional emptiness, but emotional balance), it is Luke’s unchecked repentance that shackles him, rather than achieving the serenity Jedi seek. Eventually, a veteran of the Clone Wars reminds Luke of these lessons as John Williams’ score recalls that veteran’s motif. As the Clone Wars raged, this veteran expressed concern that his fellow Jedi – through their participation in combat – were losing sight of peace, serenity. That Jedi is Yoda (Frank Oz; the Yoda puppet, reappearing here, is the best actor in the franchise), appearing as a Force ghost to Luke in a moment of catharsis for the latter. “The greatest teacher, failure is,” he intones. Luke’s regret over his failures – even years after the fact – can still be channeled and processed in constructive ways. He takes his old master’s words to heart. By the film’s end, he finds his peace and purpose in nonviolent sacrifice, amid a binary sunset.
As far as we know, the Skywalkers’ role in the Star Wars saga has concluded. It is now in the hands of the younger protagonists, especially Rey. Rey’s parentage has been the topic of cinematic speculation since The Force Awakens debuted. With Kylo Ren intimating that her parents were wasteful nobodies who died in anonymity – he may have been lying, but let’s assuming he wasn’t for now – Rey’s worst nightmare has come true. Not only will she ever reunite with her family, but, worst of all, they abandoned her. Of our next generation of protagonists, Rey remains the most compelling of them all (Daisy Ridley is also the strongest actress among the younger cohort); her strength of character forged in loneliness and hardship. But does The Last Jedi squander a chance to explain and depict the content and any vagaries in her moral character? With Snoke manipulating the Force to connect Rey and Kylo Ren, it is suggested that the latter may still be redeemed from the dark side of the Force. What about Rey? As we see in Luke who probably had only a little more Jedi training than Rey did – considering how The Last Jedi is structured, Luke’s training with Yoda feels like forever compared to Rey’s few days spent with Luke – there are vile strands to his personality. If fewer such elements reside in Rey’s mind and heart, why is that the case? It is through understanding one’s suffering and its sources that allows for goodness. All this should have been addressed in The Last Jedi rather than in the untitled ninth episode or not at all while there is still time to consider Rey’s character for all her resilience and fear (an emotion associated with the dark side of the Force).
Alas, it looks like The Last Jedi has opened up ethical and moral gaps that will have to be filled by other Star Wars media. This probably means terminal employment for the likes of Star Wars novel writers, Dave Filoni, and Electronic Arts – that sound you heard were the screams of distressed gamers and Bob Iger laughing while thinking about all the money he will make.
For all of The Last Jedi’s willingness to tinker with its central philosophical formulae, Rian Johnson, while writing the screenplays, seems almost intent to present things in the clumsiest, least appealing ways possible. Johnson’s screenplay has an A-plot (Rey with Luke, with a little Kylo Ren), a B-plot (Resistance shenanigans with Leia, Poe, and Holdo – for brevity’s sake, I will refrain from writing about the B-plot, but I fear that Poe is about to be appointed military leader of the female-powered Resistance, despite making wrong decision after wrong decision), and a C-plot (Finn and Rose; Boyega and Tran’s performances are fine, but deserved better writing). It is the C-plot, with Rose and Finn’s exploits on Canto Bight – a casino city for the galaxy’s ultrarich - that emphasizes that heroism is not exclusive to those wielding power or part of a given lineage. Rose, arguably the moral center of the film’s starkest political messages, is an unlikely hero who has much to say and much to do against the military-industrial complex that enslaves (whether officially or unofficially), spurring perpetual warfare. Yet considering the setpieces and the confusing nonsense surrounding the codebreaker they are seeking, that message is forgotten due to screenwriting shenanigans.
Expressly political filmmaking is difficult to achieve, and The Last Jedi founders completely here (this is not even mentioning the relationship, if any, between the Resistance and the New Republic). It is one thing to make a movie where I agree with its politics. It is another to present politics I agree with so slovenly –  the Canto Bight scenes are the worst so far in the sequel trilogy, despite featuring the most detailed worldbuilding yet.
On the technical fronts, Star Wars has embraced modern thriller techniques, as seen in Steve Yedlin’s cinematography and Bob Ducsay’s editing (Ducsay’s editing brilliance in the action is offset by his inability to balance and help move the storylines – there is an excellent 90-minute movie in the film’s sometimes-plodding 152 minutes). But for a film of contested dualities, no one’s work on The Last Jedi is as respectful as those thematic angles as composer John Williams. Now at eighty-five years old, it might be easy to criticize Williams’ score as unoriginal, too dependent on the motivic structure that has defined his cinematic composing career. Yes, The Last Jedi has fewer new musical ideas than the previous film. But there are more than enough motivic variations here to rise to the caliber of what is expected in a Star Wars score.
If you have never read a movie review on this blog before, you should know that sometimes I will dive deep into a film’s score. You have been warned.
Williams sets the pace of his scoring early, with the enormous orchestrations in “Main Title and Escape”. An outstanding opening action sequence contains densely layered woodwinds and brass and thrilling string runs (even the shortest string runs will thrill the heart; for example, listen closely to the strings at 4:10-4:11; in a theater, for me, at least, that is more exciting and appealing than a pounding drum line from, say, a Hans Zimmer imitator). The last piece of action, “The Battle of Crait” is as propulsive as any John Williams action composition can be. Dualities will appear and reappear throughout:
“The Supremacy” features Kylo Ren’s blaring horns (1:41) dueling with the Resistance’s militaristic violins (0:49) before both are silenced with Leia’s theme (2:04) in a moment of terror followed by shocking (if a little distracting) uplift. Say what you will about this scene, but when Leia’s theme crescendos to heights it never has before, it works.
In “Ahch-To Island”, “The Jedi Steps” idea from The Force Awakens (0:00)  – reflecting Rey’s journey to learn more about the Force – is countered with two ideas reflecting Luke’s seclusion on Ahch-To (2:55 and 3:33... a “Last Jedi” motif?). Rey’s theme will also conflict with the latter as the movie progresses.
“The Cave” mixes dissonance akin to The Empire Strikes Back’s cave scene before giving way to the most sonorous statement of Rey’s theme (usually consonant) heard yet.
Elsewhere, “Canto Bight” (the best new composition, managing to reference “Aquarela do Brasil” at 0:59... apparently, Williams inserted his title song to 1973′s The Long Goodbye somewhere in the Canto Bight scene – why not add some John Williams meta?) is as much fun as you will ever have with Latin jazz-inspired steel drums in a movie.
“Fun with Finn and Rose” introduces Rose’s theme – a stately woodwind motif that, though underdeveloped for now (although it is given action flourishes in “The Fathiers”) – which will probably be expanded in the last film as we learn more about her. Similarly, Kylo Ren’s theme was underdeveloped in The Force Awakens, as we knew little about his own complexities. In the moments after Luke’s passing, in “Peace and Purpose”, no longer is Kylo Ren’s theme standing by itself, with just a harsh brass line and nothing underlying it. At 1:08, it has become a march, resembling in texture to Anakin Skywalker’s march on the Jedi temple in Revenge of the Sith, and noting that it is not only Luke has found his purpose in the film’s closing minutes. The “Finale” begins with a Harry Potter-reminiscent celesta (imagine a music box if it resembled an upright piano) as we see a young boy Force pulling a broom towards him. Maybe it is a motif to be developed for another time, another character, another trilogy. But after the end credits, sit back, and enjoy the culmination of all John Williams offered to audiences here. So few composers can shift audience emotions with a simple transition like he can. Do not take it for granted, because we are listening to what is likely one of the last works in a remarkable career. May John Williams score the ninth episode.
The Last Jedi concludes without the heroes of the original trilogy going into the ninth episode. Fandom turmoil regarding the totality of The Last Jedi persists for a week-old film and, I suspect, will continue for at least another two years. But this eighth episode, under Rian Johnson’s direction, makes an earnest attempt to deconstruct and reimagine moreso than J.J. Abrams – the persona non grata to many Trekkies, and who will direct the concluding episode of the sequel trilogy – has demonstrated he is capable of. Johnson’s final product is imperfect. However, this is a good film displaying its reverence for the cinematic and the franchise’s past, but making clear its dissensions and departures.
The torch-passing is complete; past idols are gone. In a few years, we will see if Star Wars can plunge further into the unknown in ways not seen since creator George Lucas was last involved in the series. Even in failure, the Skywalker saga held the attention of audiences worldwide – a triumph of creativity for thousands of people whose names scroll past in a darkened theater long after almost the entire audience has left (or, if on unscrupulous television networks, unreadable in a tiny box to begin the next movie or to insert advertising).
I end with a thought that began my write-up to The Force Awakens. It is time for those most responsible for bringing Star Wars back to theaters to become artists first, fans second. I am pessimistic they can for various reasons. I hope to be proven wrong.
My rating: 7/10
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.
Also in this series: Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015) and Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019)
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