Disney’s ongoing effort to strip mine the original Star Wars films of every bit of mystery and novelty continues with Ron Howard’s Solo. In its casting and humor, it is superior to the grim Rogue One. In it’s overly intricate storyline and not-great moments of fan service, it’s more of the same.
Alden Ehrenreich fits the profile and is competent as a young Harrison Ford, whose Han Solo character would become the template for anti-hero heroes to come. Written by Lawrence and Jonathan Kasdan, Solo‘s sloppy first third establishes Han as a “scumrat,” a kind of second-class citizen and street hustler on the planet Corellia. The brash Han and his girlfriend, Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke), long to escape the scummy shipbuilding planet and live hustling ever after exploring the galaxy. The Empire is in charge, with storm troopers enforcing order everywhere. To escape a debt, Han and Qi’ra attempt to escape, but Qi’ra is apprehended. Han vows to return for her. During a silly Ellis Island moment that recalls a young Vito Corleone, Han gets his surname. It is another needless elaboration upon a character where none was necessary.
This is all dashed off in a perfunctory, let’s-get-to-the-next-page fashion. Howard’s cinematographer, Bradford Young, drapes early scenes in a too-dark mist that renders the creatures indecipherable. It’s only when Han becomes a soldier and meets a team of other scoundrels (Woody Harrelson, Thandie Newton, and John Favreau) who, after some coaxing, break Han and his new best pal Chewie (Joonas Suotamo) into their life of crime. Han longs to be a pilot and gets mocked.
The dangerous heists and shenanigans cause our heroes to run afoul of a crime organization called Crimson Dawn, the face of which is the evil Dreyden Vos (Paul Bettany). For a plot that has so many contrivances and backstabbings, the pace settles into a casual stroll that persists until the end of the two-hours-and-fifteen-minutes running time. Amazingly, these spinoffs are all spawned from the original Star Wars film, which does the opposite.
At some point soon, Star Wars movies will run out of callbacks. For now, though, we’re bombarded. This can sometimes be charming, as with Donald Glover’s Lando character mispronouncing “Han” as his forebear Billy Dee Williams once did. (Glover’s performance is a kind of delightful slam dunk of subtle charm as he flawlessly mimics Williams without overdoing it.) But mostly the endless in-jokes and continuity earmarks make the viewing experience cumbersome and obnoxious, filling in gaps the diehard fans really don’t want filled in.
Will the spinoff movies ever feel like anything more than Disney On Ice for Star Wars fans — your favorite characters back, albeit in watered-down form, prancing and preening before your eyes? Unlike Rogue One, which is still the only point of comparison, Solo is not without its charms. It has solid jokes, genuinely appealing performances, and actually does back-fill the narrative in half-interesting ways (e.g., the way Han and Chewbacca meet is adorable).
The train wreck that was the film’s production to my eyes seems to have been a non-issue where the final product is concerned. Many fine films had “troubled” productions. The problem with Solo may well be the same problem the fans have always had — thinking too hard, over-complicating the fun until fun is no longer fun. Movies are art. Disney treats these spinoffs like homework assignments.
Solo: A Star Wars Story — TWO STARS
Directed by Ron Howard
Rated PG-13
Disney
LucasFilm
135 min.
Lewis On Film 