The Last Jedi: Rian Johnson's Subversion, Mark Hamill's Revolt, and a 6.5 Out of 10 Verdict

The Last Jedi was supposed to carry the sequel trilogy forward. Instead it sent the franchise crashing into a Star Destroyer. Under a new scoring system that rates each film out of 10 in two categories, the quality of the movie itself and the combined behind-the-scenes drama and studio interference, then averages the two for a final score, The Last Jedi lands at 6.5 out of 10.

The sequel trilogy has been criticized for having no plan, and that criticism is only partially true. There was no plan before The Force Awakens was written, especially concerning who Rey actually was. After that film was finished, J.J. Abrams was asked to write treatments for Episodes VIII and IX, and he did. But when Rian Johnson read them as the incoming director of Episode VIII, he decided to ignore them completely, probably because they were thrown together at the last minute and were not very good.

Rian Johnson Threw Out J.J. Abrams' Mystery Boxes

Johnson wanted to address one of the main criticisms of The Force Awakens, that it was a carbon copy of A New Hope, a complaint even George Lucas agreed with after seeing the film and saying it did nothing new. So Johnson set out to subvert expectations. Going into The Last Jedi, Abrams had carefully set up a specific set of mystery boxes: Rey was heavily rumored to be the secret offspring of a legacy character, Snoke was introduced as a shadowy puppet master clearly positioned as the trilogy's Emperor Palpatine, and Rey had just handed a lightsaber to Luke Skywalker on a desolate planet.

All the pieces were on board for a familiar, traditional sequel. Instead, Johnson took those pieces and tossed them over his shoulder, literally. Rather than a lineage reveal, Rey became an absolute nobody. Instead of fleshing out Snoke's backstory, Johnson sliced him in half before the audience learned anything about him. And instead of a wise, willing mentor, Luke was a bitter, cynical hermit who refused to train Rey, and when he reluctantly agreed, the lessons were so brief and antagonistic that she abandoned them as he insisted the Jedi had to end.

Mark Hamill's Public Revolt Against His Own Character

Nobody's expectations were subverted more than Mark Hamill's. When he first read the script, he was stunned, and not in a good way. For decades Luke Skywalker was the ultimate symbol of hope, the man who looked at the most evil person in the galaxy and still saw good in him. Johnson's script turned him into a broken, cynical hermit who contemplated murdering his own nephew in his sleep. Hamill hated it and told Johnson he fundamentally disagreed with virtually every decision made about his character.

Hamill's biggest issue was that Luke Skywalker would not give up. He argued that if Luke made a mistake, he would try to right it, maybe take a year to regroup, but would not run away and leave everyone else to deal with the consequences. Johnson ignored the feedback and proceeded anyway. To his credit, Hamill ultimately accepted that Johnson was the writer and director and promised to do his best to realize his vision, but said he had to stop thinking of the character as Luke Skywalker and pretend he was playing someone else entirely.

Before the movie even came out, Hamill launched what amounted to a one-man press tour of brutal honesty, telling anyone who would listen how much he disagreed with the direction his character had taken. Sitting next to Johnson at a public event, Hamill quoted the film's own line, "Let the past die. Kill it, if you have to," before turning to Johnson and adding, "You're doing a pretty good job."

Scoring the Drama: 7 Out of 10 for Too Little Studio Oversight

Despite all the drama with Hamill, there was surprisingly little studio interference. Lucasfilm basically let Johnson do whatever he wanted with the material. This is one of those rare cases where a bit of studio interference might have helped, because when the actor who is literally Luke Skywalker says a script fundamentally betrays a character he has lived with for 40 years, it might be worth listening and sending the writer back to reconsider.

Because this skews far more toward drama than production issues, The Last Jedi earns a 7 out of 10 in that category, standing as an example of how too little studio oversight can be just as damaging as too much.

On First Viewing I Liked It, Then It Fell Apart on Rewatch

The first time I saw the film, I actually enjoyed it, because it subverted my expectations. I had no idea where it was going, and that kept me invested and entertained. Compare that to The Force Awakens, which hit nearly all the same beats as A New Hope and left me bored at times because I already knew what was coming. The Last Jedi genuinely took me places I never expected.

The problem with subverting expectations is that it only works once. Once you already know the twists, the shock value wears off and you are forced to judge the movie on the strength of its characters and story. That is where The Last Jedi starts to fall apart, because on every repeated viewing I have liked it less, to the point where I kind of hate it now.

What Actually Works: The Throne Room, Snoke's Death, and Rey's Nobody Reveal

We have seen so many lightsaber duels that another one would have felt like more of the same. Instead the throne room gives us Rey and Kylo fighting side by side against Snoke's guards, a chaotic duel that feels completely different from anything Star Wars had done before. The choreography is not perfect if you slow it down frame by frame, but in the moment it is exciting, visually striking, and one of the best sequences in the entire trilogy.

I also like that Johnson killed Snoke, who was really just a lousy Palpatine knockoff, clearing the way for Kylo Ren to become the next big bad, even though the next film would undo that. Killing off Captain Phasma, who had nothing to do in the first movie, felt like necessary housecleaning. And I loved the reveal that Rey is an absolute nobody, because not everyone in Star Wars needs to be secretly related to someone we already know, which just makes the galaxy feel small. Rey being the daughter of two nobodies reinforces the idea that greatness does not come from bloodline, which is also why the ending with the stable boy using the Force works so well.

The return of Yoda is another highlight. For the first time since the original trilogy, he actually feels like the Yoda we know, funny, mischievous, and fully prepared to whack Luke over the head with a stick to teach him a lesson. The hyperspace ramming sequence is breathtaking and one of the most visually stunning moments in the entire franchise.

What Doesn't Work: Luke's Characterization, the Holdo Subplot, and Canto Bight

From a screenwriting perspective, Luke needed an actual arc rather than sitting on the sidelines peacefully training Rey like Yoda did. But Mark Hamill was right that the characterization is so far removed from the Luke we know that he barely feels like the same person. I brought a friend to the film who had never seen the original trilogy and had only watched The Force Awakens. Halfway through, they leaned over and whispered, "I kind of hate Luke." That tells you everything you need to know.

The slow-speed chase feels like watching someone being chased by a murderer who refuses to walk any faster. When Leia was blasted into space, I genuinely thought she had died, and I thought that was a bold and surprisingly effective way to raise the stakes, until she opened her eyes and flew back to the ship like Mary Poppins. Then, with Leia sidelined, the dynamic between Poe and Admiral Holdo is infuriating. A commanding officer does not have to explain every order to a subordinate, but when the entire plan depends on everyone calmly following along as the fleet is being destroyed, simply saying there is a plan might have prevented the unnecessary mutiny. Withholding basic information purely to create conflict makes the subplot frustrating rather than suspenseful.

Rey does not fare much better, spending most of the movie following Luke around and asking questions so he can explain the plot and history of the Jedi to the audience. He is flat and increasingly irritating, and for most of the runtime Rey feels less like an active hero and more like a walking exposition device. Meanwhile the film introduces Rose, who drags Finn into the worst subplot in the movie, Canto Bight. The sequence stops the story dead so they can wander a casino, get arrested for parking illegally, free some space horses, meet a character played by Benicio del Toro, and return having accomplished nothing. You could remove the entire storyline with barely a change to the movie.

What makes it more frustrating is that Finn is a former stormtrooper, and the film does almost nothing with that. Imagine if the script had him sneak onto the First Order ship alone, terrified someone might recognize him while he tries to sabotage the fleet from inside, forcing him to confront his past rather than run from it. He could have encountered other stormtroopers, realized they were just as frightened and trapped as he had been, and tried to convince some to turn against the First Order. And while I appreciated Rey becoming a nobody and Snoke's death, these were central mysteries explicitly set up in the first film, and casually brushing them aside is not fair to the fans who spent two years invested in those questions.

A Movie About Failure That Ironically Failed Itself: A 6.5 Out of 10 Final Score

The overarching theme of The Last Jedi is failure. Nearly every character makes a wrong decision, watches their plan collapse, and is forced to learn from it. It is fittingly ironic, then, that the movie itself did too. On the film quality scale, The Last Jedi earns a 6 out of 10, a movie filled with bold ideas that cares more about outsmarting its audience than telling a cohesive, satisfying Star Wars story.

Factoring in a director tossing out his predecessor's blueprints, a studio asleep at the wheel while a multibillion dollar franchise was deconstructed, its biggest legacy star launching a one-man campaign to warn fans about his own movie, and a sequel so divisive the next film spent most of its runtime trying to reverse it, The Last Jedi rises to a 6.5 out of 10, and only because of its direction stands as a watchable mess.

What score would you give The Last Jedi, all things considered?