I’d say “Spoiler Alert”, but The Force Awakens, as a movie, spoils Star Wars anyway.  A fair warning, though: I’m going to give some things away.

I’ve also written this so that you can skip ahead and then skim my long thoughts below.  But first, here's why I have something to say: I was a huge fan of Star Wars before it was cool (again).  I grew up on the Star Wars trilogy, and at some point I watched them again and said, “This is awesome.  This is good.  This is worth watching more than once.”  I loved it.  In the mid-90s, over a decade after people watched Return of the Jedi in theaters, I liked Star Wars more than anyone I knew.  I used to enjoy Star Wars trivia with people: “How many TIE fighters attacked the Millenium Falcon after it escaped from the Death Star?”  I was pretty hard to stump.  I liked to analyze the cinematic meaning of the last fight between Luke and Vader, appreciating the shadow over half of Luke’s face as he hid and the way he later looked at his own robotic hand after cutting off Vader’s.  Upon entering any room, I immediately noticed any Star Wars paraphernalia.  I even founded and was president of a Star Wars Club at my high school in my senior year.  (We didn't end up doing much, but we were a thing.)  When the trilogy came back to theaters, no one was more excited than I, and when the prequels were released, no one was more disappointed by their flaws.  (Side note: The Phantom Menace can be edited to 2/3 its length and it's only better for it.  But I digress...)  Since then I’ve watched as Star Wars has become very popular again, and watched as it has been hyper-commercialized and turned into dog vomit.

That may sound extreme, but I’ll explain below why The Force Awakens is just that bad.

These days I’m still a big Star Wars fan; for Christmas this year, when my wife made stockings for the family to hang, I chose this fabric:

(That's a Rogue One print with Vader, Krennic, and troopers.  And some standard Ho, Ho, Hos at the top.)

So what happened?

Immediately after first seeing The Force Awakens, my initial impression was positive because I was so focused on the mistakes of the prequel trilogy, and The Force Awakens didn't display those same mistakes.  But there were new mistakes—many enormous mistakes—and the more I thought about the new movie, the more I realized just how much was wrong with it.  Because it ended up being such a disappointment, I almost didn’t watch Rogue One, which is, by the way, amazingly good.  Seeing such contrast between two supposed Star Wars films served to solidify my feelings toward the worse-than-sub-par The Force Awakens.

You might take the following stream of thoughts as just a rant; I’d prefer to consider it more along the lines of analysis, but mostly I just hope to make a point.

Also, this all comes only from what I can remember from a single viewing of the movie when it was still in theaters.  My memory isn’t that great anyway, and I might miss some details.  So be it, Jedi.

So, point by point, here's my take on this betrayal of Star Wars.

1. "Map to Luke Skywalker".

Rating: Abysmal

I feel like the phrase “map to Luke Skywalker” should stand on its own as a testament of how bad the story is, particularly given that this map was of central importance to the "story".  But here's the deal: a map is only valuable if you don’t already have a map, and the people in the Star Wars universe would not be engaged in space travel unless they already had a map/star chart with a high level of detail.  A specific path through the galaxy, as shown in the film, would be irrelevant.  It's a throwback to adventure books and movies depicting times when part of the Earth were not known.  In the Star Wars universe, though, it would be unnecessary and useless to have two parts of a galactic map or a particular path to a destination.  All anyone would need would be a set of coordinates—literally just three numbers—and they'd be able to take any number of paths to get there.

Then there's the fact that maps are useful because they refer to stationary objects.  Living people aren't ever on maps because they move around.  The only way a "map to Luke Skywalker" would make sense is if he never went anywhere, ever again.  What would actually make sense would be coordinates "to the last known location of Luke Skywalker" or "to the hidden dwelling of Luke Skywalker" or even "to Luke Skywalker's grave".

Then there's the question of why anyone cares about Luke at this point anyway.  Do they really believe that the galaxy is lost without him?  Sure, he destroyed the first Death Star, and he indirectly contributed to the destruction of the second, though only indirectly, and the impact of his actions there mostly occurred at a personal level; anyone else alive would have recognized that the Emperor wouldn't have survived the destruction of the second Death Star anyway.  Don't get me wrong; I never disliked him as a character.  But why do the other characters care?  After a couple of decades of getting along without him—aside  from Luke evidently having screwed up a Jedi training program and created a new Big Bad—why would anyone look to him to be the savior of the universe, especially with so many other heroes around, and especially when they succeed in defeating the next big threat (another Death Star—more on that later) without him?

But let's assume that he really is just that important.  He obviously thought so if he left a map to (grit teeth) himself.  But if he’s so important to find, why is he hiding in the first place?  Either he’s important and should be doing good things, or he’s a problem and doesn’t want to be found and wouldn’t leave a map anyway.

2. Another Death Star.  But it’s BIGGER!

Rating: Abysmal

I’m pretty sure I laughed out loud in the theater when the rebel pilot said that.  Presumably the writers A) didn’t know that Star Wars plot conflicts can exist without a Death Star, B) didn’t think people would recognize a Star Wars movie without a Death Star, or C) had no real skill at writing in the first place.  I’m assuming C.  The original Death Star was a fascinating albeit not very realistic threat, and the second, improved Death Star was both understandable and different in some key ways.  I’ll even excuse George Lucas for recycling his own idea (he’s a liar when he says he planned everything from the beginning) because the people working for him handled it well and made it work.  A third Death Star, however, which is so large that it was actually made from a planet (which somehow still has a usable atmosphere), and which is not just unrealistic but stupidly unrealistic?  Give me a break.  The Star Wars novels written by many authors over many years have provided many alternatives for conflict and big threats, and any writer worth his cheap mechanical pencil could imagine a better plot device than Another Death Star.

Everyone in the Star Wars universe has had two really stark examples of how these massively expensive weapons (I can’t understate the resources required) can be destroyed before they've had much use.  Basic math would show that they just didn’t prove to be cost effective, no matter how much anyone liked the concept.  Given that the First Order (more on that later also) wouldn't have the resources of the Empire, it’s highly, highly unlikely that they would even try to make another large Death Star.

But the bigger problem is that it was basically a one-trick pony: after it fired once (using up the energy of an entire star?), with a beam that split into seven separate beams that simultaneously arced directly into seven enemy planets in a totally absurd way, even if it hadn’t been destroyed, it wouldn’t have been useful any more.  There were no more Resistance planets to destroy, so it wasn’t even needed.  Sure, having a big weapon would keep people in line—that was the idea behind the original Death Star—but no one needed something that ridiculously huge just to inspire fear.  The first and much smaller Death star was already large, and there was no need to build something planet-sized at a hugely higher cost that was going to be mostly useless after firing once.

This Death Star discussion is also just a small part of…

3. Where Have I Seen This Before?

Rating: Abysmal

It’s a tricky thing to write sequels; one has to include enough elements from the original story for the new story to feel like a natural extension of the original, while being different enough to stand on its own merit.  The Force Awakens swung so far to one side of that spectrum that it’s almost nothing more than a caricature of the original Star Wars.  (Side note: I pulled up the thesaurus for the word “caricature”, and the word at the top of the list was “travesty”.  That’s a good word for this movie also.)  Elements of the original story that were blatantly and unimaginatively recycled include:

• Secret information given to a droid by someone about to be captured
• Hero is raised on a desert planet
• Heroes visit a cantina to coordinate plans concerning the secret information
• Wise old alien to help the protagonist learn about the Force and lightsabers
• Another droid sidekick (even though C-3PO and R2-D2 are still around to cash in on also)
• Another Death Star (but bigger)
• Another big bad guy hologram (but bigger)
• Father/son conflict with central hero and villain
• Though if the villain is the son this time, that’s enough to make it New and Fresh, right?

I’m sure that’s not anywhere near a comprehensive list, but like I said, I watched it months ago and I can only remember so much.

One approach to making a movie is to hire a skilled writer and director who can weave an intriguing, immersing, and powerful story.  Evidently there’s another approach which involves carelessly cobbling together parts of the movies that came before, but re-filming them with different names.  One of these approaches makes for great cinema; the other does not.  (Although it might get people to spend their money, which is mostly all that matters for movie makers like Disney.)

4. The Girl Who Is Good at Everything.
Everything.  Always.

Rating: Terrible

Some people think that Daisy Ridley is cute, and that the right smile from her would make up for anything wrong with the character she portrays.  I'd say: No.  Her character really isn’t all that interesting because she’s immediately good at anything she does, regardless of whether she’s had any training with it.  Never mind that anyone else—ever—including the all-important Luke Skywalker—takes years to become a master of just one thing.  And sure, we see plenty of movies where somebody gains way too much expertise in some heroic skill in way too little time.  But to be good at everything, immediately, every time?  Are you kidding me?

Exhibit A.  Being able to pilot a spaceship, sure she might be able to do that with some minimal degree of skill if she’d had opportunity to fly a few things from time to time on her home planet.  Piloting the Millenium Falcon?  No.  Expertly?  No way.  Well enough to aim an immobilized dorsal gun turret at a pursuing enemy starfighter?  Bat fart stupid.  (If you haven’t ever heard that expression before, don’t worry; I just made it up.  It fits.)  Piloting a ground vehicle takes time to learn.  Piloting something that flies?  Much more time and training.  Consider that in probably any aircraft (or imaginary spacecraft) you can imagine, the cockpit is located in the middle of the vehicle.  The cockpit of the Millenium Falcon, however, is on the extreme side of a roughly disc-shaped vehicle.  In the original trilogy we see experienced pilots performing some rather nimble maneuvers that would be crazy hard to pull off while maintaining any sense of orientation, and even that’s hard to believe if you think about it.  To try to fly the thing without probably no flight training and very little flight experience if any (because you’re a poor kid who lives in a desert) and without any specialized training for such an usual cockpit location would be impossible.  “But she can use the Force,” you might say.  “That means she can fly.”  That excuse might (kind of) work once, and it might even (kind of) work twice, but let’s keep looking at what else she can do.

Exhibit B.  She improves the performance of the same Millenium Falcon with a few minutes of inspired maintenance work.  She tells Han Solo about it (with the aforementioned cutesy smile) and he’s both surprised and troubled by it.  This is the guy who has been flying the thing for years, and maintaining the thing for years.  He’s been working on it constantly to keep it not only in good order, but at peak performance to make it one of the fastest space vehicles around.  But Rey walks in and after several minutes finds a way to make it better?  Hogwash.  Don’t tell me the Force helped her with that one.

Also, finding this out may disappoint hyperfeminist writers who have no knowledge of mechanics or engineering, but to "bypass" something is to establish a new connection around it, and not just yank it out.  Just tearing things out of complex machinery is not a solution.

Exhibit C.  The Force!  After being captured, she discovers that she can influence the minds of others and she uses this ability to escape.  This part I actually can believe a bit.  If she’s really uber-powerful with the Force, she ought to have had experiences in life that would make this task more easily managed, and it’s highly intuitive, with no mechanical parts or pieces that require education and specialized training to manipulate or repair.  Although: she realistically would have made use of it before, say, if trading for food that she needed to survive from day to day like she did just hours before and surely many times in the past.  If this was the only thing she was immediately good at—if it was Exhibit A and there were no Exhibit B—I could buy it.  But…

Exhibit D.  Lightsaber dueling.  Among all weapons ever imagined, lightsabers have got to be really high on the list of the ones that are potentially dangerous and even lethal to the user.  One wrong move, and a person wielding a lightsaber could cut off a limb or their own head, or do any of various other harmful things that would maim if not kill oneself.  That’s why they’re a Jedi weapon—it takes the Force to be able to use them with any real degree of personal safety.  I’ll excuse Finn using a lightsaber, a bit, because in a practical sense a regular person could pick one up and hold it and use it in a limited sense without disaster necessarily occurring (like Han does when cutting open a Tauntaun, for example), but when Rey goes up against Kylo Ren and *beats him*, it’s farcical.  Even Luke Skywalker, after being trained by two Jedi masters, loses his first (real) lightsaber duel, and it costs him his hand.  Rey, on the other hand (no pun intended), fights against someone with experience and wins, even though she’s using a lightsaber for the very first time.  It’s easy to look at or even imagine other lightsaber duels and see that, as with various types of good ol’ metal sword fighting, the fighters can possess a lot of skill, and that skill counts.  A lot.  But evidently,

Rey > skill + experience

for no good reason.  “But, the Force!” you say.  “She’s strong with the Force!  That allows her to do all of these things without training or experience or skill!”  If you believe that, then I’ve got a bridge for sale on Alderaan.

Daisy Ridley isn't The Devil, but it should be obvious that a character who is good at everything, especially without effort, does not contribute to a good story.  That's partly why The Force Awakens is not a good story.

5. Speaking of the Millenium Falcon...

Rating: Contrived and lame

Why is the Millenium Falcon on her home planet anyway, and if it’s in condition to fly, why is it just sitting there?  Han Solo is still around; what circumstance would have led to him leaving behind his ship?  A vehicle like the Falcon becomes part of a relationship with the pilot; it was as much a character in the original trilogy as the people.  Han, like many others before him who are attached to vehicles, even refers to the Falcon as a “she” and “Baby”.  Why would he abandon it?  Maybe there was some circumstance beyond his control that A) separated him from the ship, and B) relocated it so that he didn’t know where it was.  But for it to be fully functional and just sitting, waiting for a new protagonist to find it who will then meet Han Solo within a few hours?  Not plausible.  Not even a little.  Scavengers would have either taken the thing if it could fly, or strip it of valuable parts if it couldn't.  The only reason it’s there in this story is because the writers wanted the Falcon back in Star Wars, but they couldn’t bother to think of a plausible way to do it, so, like many other parts of the story, they said, “Eh, let’s put it there anyway, even if it doesn’t make sense.”

6. New Characters Who Just Don’t Add Much

Rating: Yawn and Blink

Before I saw the movie, my oldest brother made an interesting observation.  He asked about what characters I really liked in the original trilogy.  I easily answered that Boba Fett was awesome, and Wedge Antilles was my second favorite, but it was assumed and understood that all of the main characters are classic examples of likeable characters to some degree, and it’s probably not hard for anyone to identify the ones they like.  Han Solo (the original version) essentially defined an archetype.  Lando’s not a system; he’s a man.  Vader had presence onscreen without even doing anything.  Anyway, it wasn’t hard to think of characters I liked.  Then my brother asked me what characters I liked from the prequel trilogy.  My response was something like, “Um…..Darth Maul was cool, while he lasted…ummmmm……Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were okay…….ummmmmm…….”  He pointed out that Queen Amidala started out well, but then lost any strength of character.  And Anakin….oh, boy; we can’t say much good about kid Anakin or adult Anakin.  So it’s an interesting contrast between the original trilogy and the prequels.

But what about the characters of The Force Awakens?

I can still hear people whispering from across the Internet that Rey is cute, and in response I’ll state this again: being cutesy and instantly good at everything does not a good character make.

How about Finn?  He wasn’t terrible, and even had a decent line or two, but his character doesn’t make sense.  Military culture in general really becomes a part of people, and this is the Empire.  (The fake, secondhand Empire, but still.)  A stormtrooper wouldn’t just be trained; they would be heavily indoctrinated.  Most people who live constantly in that kind of environment aren’t going to question it.  But hey, he’s not most people, right?  Heroes are unusual.  So, after witnessing the terrible destruction that he has caused for years in service of the First Order, he finally grows a conscience.  Except that when he changes his mind about things, it’s actually only his first battle.

Wait.  He’s that old and he’s never seen action anywhere else?  For real??

Anyway, I can’t remember much that I really liked about him.

What about Poe?  Oscar Isaac did a reasonably good job with him, but one actor alone can’t redeem a movie this bad.  I do remember one of Po’s lines—the one about “I talk, you talk” etc. early on—and it was kind of funny, but also pretty out of place.

Maybe R2-D2 v2.0.  B-something-or-other.  He’s a droid.  He's short.  He rolls—somehow.  Which would make it impossible to use any tools while moving.  Huh.

Kylo Ren?  I actually don’t have a problem with the tantrums, and I thought he was an interesting character until he took his mask off.  Taking the mask off as an action wasn’t even a problem.  I liked that.  But the character underneath…yeah, I don’t remember a thing I liked about him after that.

The frowny First Order senior commander?  I don’t jump to Hitler comparisons like I’ve heard from some other people, so I don’t have a problem with that.  I don’t remember having much of a problem with him at all, aside from being excessively grumpy.  But I also don’t remember much of anything good from him either.  He gave a decent pep talk to his troops.  That’s something, I suppose.

Captain Phasma.  She’s just so phabulous.  What’s better than an elite stormtrooper?  A shiny, elite lady stormtrooper!  “She looks cool!” says the fan.  “No,” I say.  “Being chrome-plated is not enough to either look cool or justify a character’s presence.”  And no, there is no comparison between Phasma and the cold, reserved, and deadly Boba Fett, even if she was evidently created to be a copy of him.  She should probably go up on that list of recycled plot elements above.  Even that name…somebody thought it would be cool to mix “phaser” and “plasma” and make it a bad guy.  Pure Genius, that.  Goodness…

Oh, and Snoke?  Seriously?  Snoke?  ("Snake + Smoke = Snoke!  Brilliant!")  We have a whole host of potential bad guys from the Star Wars novels that could have been used.  (Grand Admiral Thrawn, anyone?)  But, no.  “Let’s make up some spooky guy, give him an even bigger hologram than the Emperor’s, and then explain nothing about him at all.  Let’s not make him even slightly interesting by telling some backstory that ties him into the existing universe, because we don’t know how to actually write a good story.  It’ll be enough to just have a big, spooky guy.”  That’s how I imagine the discussion went.

Side note: Speaking of writing, Lawrence Kasdan was actually the one who started writing this movie before other people evidently pooped on the script before running it through a shredder and then the copy machine.  Kasdan knows how to write a story (see: The Empire Strikes Back, Silverado).  He must be as bothered as I am about what came out of his initial work.

7. Old Characters—Really Old—Who Also Don’t Add to the Story

Rating: I Mean, Really Old

I used to think it would be cool to continue the Star Wars story, fully aware that Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, and Mark Hamill, among others, were all still alive.  I used to think it would be awesome to see them in new movies.  And it could have been!  But having seen The Force Awakens, with a version of both Han and Leia in it (ignoring the Luke that did nothing more than stand there for a few seconds), I would rather that they’d been left out.  Given the passage of time, they could have been omitted for any number of reasons.  Or they could have had minimal, non-disappointing roles.  Instead, we got The Force Awakens, in which Han and Leia do basically nothing to add to the film.  For me, every moment with Han or Leia onscreen was a disappointment—a signal that we waited too long to make another movie with them.  Han pretending to be a younger version of himself didn’t work.  It was almost painful to watch.  And death is supposed to mean something, but I didn’t care a bit when he died.  Not a bit.

Then there’s the terrible cliché sequel move of ruining a relationship that was developed over the course of a previous story—in this case, three beloved movies.  Throughout the original trilogy, Han gains affection for Leia and changes and grows as a person.  Sure, by the end he’s still an adventurer with a carefree sense of wit and charm, but he also matures and by the end, he’s ready to accept a serious and mutually acknowledged relationship with Leia, and along the way we enjoy both good humor and good romance.  When it’s all said and done, we hope for them to get married and make babies.  In the storyline of the books, which was official enough until this mess of a movie came out, they do get married and have babies.  So what do the masterminds behind The Force Awakens decide to do with that relationship we all loved?  Toss it out, of course!  Erase any progress that Han made and send him back to his old rascally ways, millions of miles away from Leia.  Sure, they can have a kid, as long as that kid doesn’t have committed, married parents.  This is a Disney movie, after all.  And let’s make the kid the bad guy, because on the surface that will sound like a good and interesting story element!  And let's make Han an old doofus.

(grumble)

P.S. Anyone who called out Carrie Fisher for no longer being young and shapely was just rude.

8. The First Order (Even Though They’re Clearly the *Second* Empire) and The Resistance

Rating: Ungood

A natural sequence of events after Return of the Jedi would be that one of the remaining leaders in the Empire would assume command, in which case the Empire would still exist.  In another scenario, the competing Imperial leaders would assume command of their own little fleets with the largest still being The Empire, and the competing factions would show variety in procedure and appearance.  Either way,  the Empire could still be a problem but the preferences of the new leaders would be reflected.  What explanation do we have for this new First Order that is basically the same as the Empire with only slightly redesigned uniforms?  None.

If you’re going to create a new military organization, make it new.  Twice in a decade the United States Army has gone through more drastic changes in uniform than the First Order; a new intergalactic military organization with new leadership would have every opportunity to come up with a completely different look.  And at some point, given the opportunity, someone would have had to have said, “You know, white really isn’t a tactical color for our tactical troops’ armor.”  Sure, use existing technology.  Sure, improve upon it.  But when not constrained by the indisputable word of an Emperor, why not branch out and make your own brand?  There’s no good reason for the Second—ahem, First—Order to be all but a clone of the Empire.  Unless you’re a Disney executive who only thinks as far as “we want the trailer to be recognizable (read: deceptive) by showing the familiar bad guys so that people get excited to give us money.”

And why is the Rebellion now the Resistance?  I guess if your enemy changes names, you do also?  If the victory at Endor was lasting, they ought to have been able to form a legitimate government, like the New Republic of the novels.  If the Empire/First Order was still in charge after Endor, then what impelled the Rebellion to stop Rebelling and start Resisting?  Don’t look for explanations in the movie; they aren’t there.

And since I’ve mentioned the books a few times, I’ll grant that no one was required to make movies like them, but they do illustrate how good (or at least creative) the story could have been.

9. "That's a Story for Another Time"

Rating: Waaaay Too Far Down the Spectrum

My brother also mentioned a point about explanations.  He said that one of the mistakes that Lucas made in the prequels was explaining too much and taking the mystery away from the Force and other parts of the original trilogy, and that the new movies do the opposite by not explaining anything.  I’d agree, but I'd argue that the bigger problem with Lucas’ explanations in the prequels was just that they stank.  (clenches fists at the word "midichlorians")  So is it better to leave out any explanations at all?  Leaving a sense of mystery can be done masterfully and artfully to great effect, but in the case of The Force Awakens, it’s obvious that the writers had no sense of nuance or cohesion and instead just wanted to throw together a bunch of cool-looking stuff in with a popular brand.  It wasn’t genius; it was downright lazy.  They banked on succeeding through the low standards of moviegoers.  And evidently, they succeeded in lining their pockets pretty well.

10. The Force Awakens and the Title Confuses

Rating: Can’t Give Them Too Much Crap For It

I don’t think anyone was ever enamored by the title, from the time it was disclosed to the present day.  I get it; titles can be hard to come up with, and other Star Wars movie titles aren’t particularly good either.  But “The Force Awakens” suffers from the aforementioned lack of explanation and only serves to muddle the brain of anyone trying to figure out what it really means.  Yeah, I know: Rey something something Force something something.  But really, it’s weak.  What does it mean for the Force to "awaken", and why was it asleep?  Whatever.

11. Lightsaber-Induced Visions.

Rating: Ugh

Just ugh.  I’m not even going to go into this.

12. Red-Arm C-3PO

Rating: More Toy Sales ≠ Good Movie

This could be just another item for the Unexplained Mess part.  It’s not inherently offensive for C-3PO to have been damaged and repaired with other spare parts, or to even be present in the first place (which also wasn't necessary), but there’s also nothing good about it.

13. R2-D2 In Sleep Mode

Rating: Unnecessary and Unrealistic

So, R2 was in low-power mode for decades, and then was able to wake up when someone he figured was important came in?  How?  If he’s able to wake up on his own, he’s been using power to observe the world and decide when to wake up.  Eventually that power runs out.  Maybe he was plugged in the whole time, and that cantina owner was really relieved to have her electric bill back to normal.

I think I have to stop here with the criticism.  Are there more problems with the movie?  Doubtless.  This is just what I can remember roughly two years after seeing it.

What did The Force Awakens do well?  The computer graphics were skillfully done and the scenery was reasonably interesting to look at, and the orchestral score was probably fine given that John Williams (is he still alive?) did it.  Essentially, they did enough decent work to make an exciting movie trailer and get cash from the unsuspecting.

All things considered, I find myself with no reason to ever watch The Force Awakens again, to ever watch The Last Jedi or any following movie even once, or to consider them part of the real Star Wars story.  If I could, I would buy the rights to Star Wars and then see to it that Episodes VII and VIII were completely replaced with good movies (probably with a IX for good measure), and then prevent anyone from ever making any more Star Wars games or movies for as long as I lived.

Anyone who wants to go drop their dollar in Disney’s pocket in exchange for viewing this waste of reel is free to do so, but just be warned: to do so is encouraging them to make more terribly written movies.  Too much of even a good thing is still too much, and this addition wasn't even a good thing.

Watch for my upcoming review of
Star Wars Episode IX: The Tropes Profit Again.