The Last Jedi is still rattling around my mind today. That’s always the mark of a great movie. Holy mackerel, it was more fun than any previous Star Wars film.
Sure, there were recognizable character-types (is Rey becoming Luke, or Han?), and the plot, though more complex this time, was familiar. Never-the-less I was transfixed for the film’s entire two hour, thirty-two-minute run time.
Three quibbles: why do bombers move so slowly in space, when everything else moves at the speed of heat? And why do their bombs fall as if in gravity? And why does every stupefyingly huge weapons platform have a vulnerable spot? These almost pulled me out of my suspended disbelief early on.
Stick around through the end credits for a brief tribute matte to Carrie Fisher. BTW, though they couldn’t have known it would be her last-ever when shooting the film, you’ll know her final scene is at hand near the end of the film. It just has that sort of feel.
And watch Luke’s feet in that scene. Feet.
I wasn’t as gobsmacked today as I was the day after Blade Runner 2049, but I’ll call 2017 a success for giving me two movies to watch over and over. Well, three. Wonder Woman was great, too.