Caution: Major Spoilers! Seriously.
They’ve killed Star Wars — You remember that scene in Return of the Jedi in which Jabba the Hutt (translated through C-3Po) is talking about the sarlacc in the desert. Here’s the scene, in case you forgot it:
C-3PO: Oh, dear. His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt, has decreed that you are to be terminated immediately.
Han Solo: Good. I hate long waits.
C-3PO: You will therefore be taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the Pit of Carkoon, the nesting place of the all-powerful Sarlacc.
Han Solo: Doesn’t sound so bad.
C-3PO: In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over a thousand years.
Han Solo: On second thought, let’s pass on that, huh?
That is the new Star Wars movie, symbolically. It is a death of slow digestion over a thousand years. Sure, there will be other Star Wars movies: maybe some good lines, an action scene that is especially intriguing, but give it a few years and Star Wars will be dead. And so, to put it in another way, to sort of (more or less) quote The Force Awakens, Disney “is just beginning to test its powers; and the longer we wait, the more their powers will grow.”
And why? you may ask. Why this internet movie rant? Why is Star Wars dead? Because Disney killed the creative writing process.
Which I’m nearly convinced is because of merchandising opportunities, and which is seen most evidently in one terrible, no good, awful scene… Han Solo’s death. (I know as you’re reading this, I might sound super angry. I’m not. I’m just mad at the injustice of it.) Han Solo may have had to die, given that Harrison Ford didn’t want to be in another loathsome movie, but he didn’t have to die like that. It makes no literary sense. After coming back from the theater last night, I was rehearsing through my head all the other better ways that Han Solo could have died, of which there are many; and in order to help myself process this tragedy — and maybe it will be helpful for some of you readers, as well — I’ve decided to give some of these much better options as a means of therapy:
Option 1:
True betrayal — If you’ve watched the original trilogy on repeat, as a little kid, or even if you’ve just seen it recently, you will clearly notice that Luke Skywalker is conflicted: Think of Yoda’s constant warnings about Luke turning to the dark side, think of the cave where in he has the vision of himself as his father, or that time that Luke uses the force to strangle the pig men guards at the beginning of Episode VI. He obviously was teetering on edge of darkness and light, and after a thirty year absence, he could have been completely, and possibly secretly, transitioned into a dark Sith Lord.
Just imagine — the map that the film is based around is really a secret trap, set by Luke himself, who wants to be found, and is using his friends’ trust in him as a means to lure them into a scenario in which Luke betrays and murders Han, as Kylo Ren (Han’s son) watches approvingly and does nothing to save his father. So much better… it allows for the murder of Han by Luke, someone whom the audience actually knows something about, which makes it a much more powerful moment, and it fulfills Yoda’s constant foreshadowing of Luke’s transition to the dark side. (Read this article about Luke turning to the dark side)
Option 2:
Han shoots first — First of all, this option is established on the fact that Han is not afraid to shoot first, if there is no other option. And also that Han, by his character, wouldn’t put himself into a completely defenseless situation; he always has a backup weapon, or a quick plan.
Just imagine that Leia was not as passive as this new movie made her out to be. Maybe she and Han both go down to the Star Killer planet to help reason with Kylo Ren, but in their confrontation Leia (or even Rey, perceivably) could be put into harm’s way and Han shoots at his son, knowing that he has no other option. But with every attempt at a shot, Kylo Ren deflects each laser blast back toward Han, or he could have used the force to stop the laser beam in mid-air (as was set-up in the opening scene), and then he lifts Han up by the force, and lets Han’s own blast hit him. Thus Han kills himself, symbolically showing that Han’s brash, shoot-first nature was ultimately his undoing.
Option 3 (my favorite):
Ultimate Sacrifice — During Episodes IV through VI, Han is constantly transforming from a smuggling scoundrel into a loveable, space-cowboy hero. There was absolutely nothing in the original trilogy to suggest that Han would revert back to his old ways, so when The Force Awakens finally shows the older, wiser Han Solo, he should have been a king, or a general, or the like. He wouldn’t have left Leia to pickup the pieces of their son’s betrayal, all by herself. That is sloppy writing, and inconsistent character development.
What should have happened is this: years of peace as a fledgling, galactic, republic government began to take shape, but in the absence of the Empire, a gradual building of dark forces, under the radar, as the First Order started to gain power. Instead, everyone has turned into the worst versions of themselves — weak and pathetic and nearly forgotten in only thirty years — thusly destroying everything that was established in the original trilogy.
Now imagine the best way for Han Solo to die: Since all the Resistance has to do is basically shoot a mile-wide, relatively undefended disk out in the middle of an ice planet. What Han should have done was do what he does best, pilot. It makes much more sense that Han, a legendary military hero, would have joined the air battle since he now has his ship back.
Throughout the initial trilogy, Han is constantly personifying the Millennium Falcon as a close friend, or a dear pet, like his white stallion, if Han is indeed a space-cowboy. All he cares about for a good portion of Episode IV is his ship and Chewie; in Episode VI he tells Lando repeatedly, “not to get a scratch on it.” He is constantly telling people to be careful with it, and he is always defending its honor, as a fast ship. If he gets it back after thirty years of searching for it, he does not leave it alone so that he can go run around an ice planet / Star Killer. He flies it into battle.
It would be Leia, who should go to talk with Kylo Ren, instead. Since the limited Resistance force would definitely need a good pilot, and since Leia should have some training with the force after thirty years — I mean her brother is Luke Skywalker.
So here is the final death scene for Han: Leia and Rey, and Finn, are on the Star Killer, battling Kylo Ren. The sun is being sucked away and the light is fading, both physically and metaphorically. The Resistance pilots cannot break through the oscillator (the big metal plate) without much more firepower, or without some incredible force. So Han, knowing what will happen, tells all the Resistance pilots to fall back. He says goodbye to Chewbacca, leaving him on the ice planet to pilot the separate ship that Leia, Rey, and Finn would have likely taken to confront Kylo Ren. Han then radio calls, or force-talks, to Leia, telling her that she needs to leave the planet right away. Leia knows what Han is planning, since she can read minds, and because of her special connection to Han. And as Leia’s ship is flying away and the First Order is cheering for their supposed victory, Han Solo appears in the sky coming out of the last gleams of a dying sun, flying his prized ship, the Millennium Falcon. Leia force-talks or radio calls Han, saying, “I love you.” Han repeats his classic line, “I know.” Then he punches his ship into Hyperdrive. The Millennium Falcon does one of its standard, car dying sounds, until Han hits the dash, sending him flying at light speed into the vulnerable oscillator, which then breaks apart the planet by the sheer force of the impact.
Han dies a hero, coming full circle in his character arc; and both sacrificing himself, and his most prized possession for the sake of Leia.
It’s not that hard. Why didn’t Disney do this? My guess, so that they could still keep selling Millennium Falcon toys. Sad really. It looks like Disney is going to slowly destroy the world of Star Wars — being “slowly digested over a thousand years” — just so that they can sell a few more toys.
Poor George Lucas. And my guess is that if Lawrence Kasdan, the original writer, had ever tried to object to Disney’s terrible story progression, then he was always overruled.
