Do you ever feel like your life is an experiment and somewhere scientists are observing your every move, laughing at your decisions, particularly mocking that one time you accidentally unplugged your entire church’s worship setup on your first day of slides team?
Well, I sure feel like that. I am convinced my entire life has been contrived for scientific research. Scientists must have wanted to test the willpower of someone who is so right in a wrong world, and for whatever reason, they chose me to bear that burden. Why? Because there can be no other explanation for why I seem to be the only person who thinks Star Wars is colossally and catastrophically overrated.
I hate Star Wars. It’s coarse, rough and, thanks to Disney’s popularity, everywhere. The series does not deserve the praise it continually gets. This is not a joke.
DISCLAIMER: Disney, if you’re reading this, it is just a joke. Please respond to my emails. There’s still time to make a movie about me.
Defense #1: “That’s no moon. It’s…” a boring character:
What do Star Wars and a child’s coloring book have in common? They both contain incredibly weak character development.
You know that moment when you’re watching a movie about people in space who are wielding lightsabers and flying spaceships and you realize you don’t really like most of the people? I’m sure we’ve all been there.
I don’t enjoy Star Wars characters. Admittedly, Darth Vader’s design and voice make him one of the greatest villains ever, but most of the other characters in the films are far more annoying than not.
Luke Skywalker does not possess many intriguing or unique character traits. Plus, he never even walks in the sky, so that’s a letdown. Leia seems to exist in a perpetual state of aggravation. Han Solo’s entertaining at first, but by the end, he’s just irritatingly smug.
These characters are in great contrast to engaging heroes from other films like Aragorn, Hermione Granger and Captain Jack Sparrow who inspire admiration and support from their audiences.
Honestly, by the end of Return of the Jedi, I was cheering against the “heroes.” Why should I care about their overthrow of the galactic empire when I am more engaged by the Sith lords than the lifeless band of Jedi and rebels?”
Defense #2: The bore is strong with this one:
What do Star Wars and a grape have in common? They’re both extremely boring to watch for two hours.
When I started the films, I was expecting thrilling, action-packed hours, but instead I struggled to stay awake. In the prequel trilogy, there’s too much sitting and talking to compensate for the minimal fight and rescue scenes. In the eighth and ninth installments, the story seems to reset with every movie. There was no overarching narrative. There was no plan. The scripts contain some stabs at humor, but just like me flying a spaceship, the jokes don’t land well.
I found that, especially in Episodes 5 and 6, the plots get long and unengaging, with too much time spent on unimportant things like the Ewoks.
UGH! The Ewoks. Name anything more irritating. I’ll wait.
Furthermore, the films are labeled as “space operas,” so imagine my disappointment when I discovered Luke never breaks into song and performs “The Death Star Boogie.” Apparently, there are no musical numbers in space operas.
Defense #3: Act or act not. There is no middle ground:
What do several of the Star Wars actors and a group of cardboard boxes have in common? They can’t act.
While there are some decent
performances (e.g., Ewan McGregor, Daisy Ridley), I thought there was also a shocking amount of wooden acting. Hayden Christensen and Natalie Portman share little chemistry. Samuel L. Jackson spends his minimal screen time looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Episodes 7 through 9 nearly convinced me Oscar Isaac is in the wrong industry.
In light of other actors who have done a fantastic job of acting in space films or in front of green screens, this was an obvious flaw. All you need to do is look at J.J. Abrams’ Star Trek movies to see what I mean. In that series, the performances of Chris Pine, Zoe Saldana and Zachary Quinto are convincing and compelling.
I’ve never quite understood the fanatic Star Wars support. It baffles me to this day how many people fight with such vigor for these movies, and I suspect nostalgia must be a major driving force behind this widespread wrongness.
Fortunately, for you guys, I alone can see the truth: Star Wars is roughly as good of a film series as a pear is as good of a fruit: not good at all.
This may be my most unpopular opinion yet, but the greatest of people were often misunderstood in their time. Perhaps I’m just another unappreciated mastermind who will one day have an invention, country or space station named after him.