Tag: star wars: rogue one

Rogue One Subverts Asian Male Stereotypes — and That’s Important

desiree-rodriguez:

Let’s start with Chirrut, played by Donnie Yen. When Chirrut first showed up in the movie, I had a sense of dread: “ah, here we go with the magical Asian stereotype.” After all, he was wearing robes, carried a staff, and offered some vague, mysterious platitudes about the kyber crystal necklace Jyn was wearing. He knew martial arts, and it looked like that was going to be his defining characteristic. But the more interactions we saw between Chirrut and the other characters, the more revolutionary he seemed as a character — while the TV Tropes page may technically list Chirrut as a “Magical Asian” (your mileage may vary, obviously), in many ways, he turned the stereotype on its head. After all, here was an Asian male character who was also Force-sensitive, religious, a badass, and disabled. He was wise, sure, but he was also impish and wry.

In a lesser movie, he’d have been the Mr. Miyagi or Pai-Mei of Rogue One, whose sole purpose was to offer bland mystic platitudes while teaching the white protagonist. But Chirrut didn’t just speak in platitudes or proverbs, even though his most memorable line is a prayer chant. He made jokes and cracked wise, most memorably when he asked “are you kidding me?” as Saw Gerrera’s rebels placed a black bag over his head. He also didn’t offer to teach any of the other characters (and what good would that have done, really, in the timeframe this movie takes place in?), and Jyn, the sole white protagonist, didn’t exceed his particular skills by virtue of being white and “special.”

Rogue One Subverts Asian Male Stereotypes — and That’s Important

kalinara:

You know what I think is fascinating:

There are people who tend to criticize the Star Wars franchise on a whole, as being very black and white.  But I think the current Star Wars movies have done something really interesting with that:

We see a man, raised from infancy as a Stormtrooper, brainwashed and with no other moral compass, who is ordered to take part in a massacre, but chooses not to.  Later, he seizes the opportunity to rescue a tortured prisoner and escape with him.

We see a scientist ordered to build a death weapon, still manage to leak out information to the people who can stop it, and build in weaknesses that can be exploited.

We see a career Imperial choose to defect rather than continue to work for a corrupt regime.

The new movies have given us a number of stories about people who on the wrong side, by choice or by force, but still choose to do what’s right in the end.

And that’s why I get so frustrated by fans who insist that Kylo Ren MUST have a redemption arc, because Star Wars is “about redemption.”

Because they’re right and they’re wrong.  Star Wars is about CHOICE.  It’s about people who choose to do the right thing, even when it’s hard, even when it’s painful, and even when they might have started on the wrong side.  It’s about abandoning the darkness, and choosing light..

Vader didn’t have a “redemption arc.”  He had a moment of choice, and despite all of his past evil, when it came down to it, he chose to save his son.  

Kylo Ren chose to leave the Light.  He chose to betray Luke.  He chose to join the First Order.  He chose to massacre villagers.  He chose to torture helpless prisoners.  He chose to aid in a genocide.  And when face to face with the same choice that saved Vader, he chose to murder his father.

We do not need this mass murdering patricidal monster to represent the Star Wars theme of choosing light over darkness.  We have Finn, we have Galen Erso, we have Bodhi Rook.  

That’s where you’ll find themes of the Star Wars Universe alive and well.  Not Kylo Ren.

riveralwaysknew:

riveralwaysknew:

I took my father to see Rogue One today. I’ve wanted to take him for a while. I wanted my Mexican father, with his thick Mexican accent, to experience what it was like to see a hero in a blockbuster film, speak the way he does. And although I wasn’t sure if it was going to resonate with him, I took him anyway. When Diego Luna’s character came on screen and started speaking, my dad nudged me and said, “he has a heavy accent.” I was like, “Yup.” When the film was over and we were walking to the car, he turns to me and says, “did you notice that he had an accent?” And I said, “Yeah dad, just like yours.” Then my dad asked me if the film had made a lot of money. I told him it was the second highest grossing film of 2016 despite it only being out for 18 days in 2016 (since new year just came around). He then asked me if people liked the film, I told him that it had a huge following online and great reviews. He then asked me why Diego Luna hadn’t changed his accent and I told him that Diego has openly talked about keeping his accent and how proud he is of it. And my dad was silent for a while and then he said, “And he was a main character.” And I said, “He was.” And my dad was so happy. As we drove home he started telling me about other Mexican actors that he thinks should be in movies in America. Representation matters.

Hello Guys! A lot of you have been asking for my dad’s reaction after Diego Luna tweeted out my post, and here he is. He was off to work this morning when I snagged him… 

I’m just saying

jhaernyl:

androidsghost:

obiwancomeblowme:

bemusedlybespectacled:

samtoyourdean:

so here’s our favorite adoptive space dad Bail Organa in Revenge of the Sith:

and here he is in Rogue One:

meanwhile, here’s Obi-Wan in Revenge of the Sith:

and here he is after the exact same amount of time: 

I’d like some of whatever Bail is having on Alderaan and exactly zero of what Obi-Wan is having on Tatooine 

well one of them is the viceroy of alderaan and the other one is living as a hermit in space nevada, sorry that obi wan isn’t keeping up his moisturizing regimen on Planet Sand Hell while bail organa drinks kale smoothies in the shade

And let’s not forget that Tatooine has two suns and is incredibly hostile to the aging process. Look at Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.

@deadcatwithaflamethrower

mx-delta-juliette:

moghedien:

moghedien:

ok so Leia was heading to Obi-wan before the Battle of Scarif, and before she ever knew she or anyone would have the plans. It wasn’t just a last resort, “vader’s bout to get us we gotta go somewhere” decision. the fact that she was going to Obi-wan is probably the reason she was with the rebels and not on Alderaan.

so think in the context that a) Bail was knowingly sending his daughter, who has the genes of one of the most powerful force users ever, to go get a Jedi, b) Bail knew that he was sending the biological child of Anakin to Anakin’s former master and friend, c) Obi-wan definitely would knows who Leia is, d) Bail knows that Obi-wan is keeping an eye on Luke.

I’m not saying Bail Organa knowingly sent his force sensitive daughter to the only fully trained Jedi he knew how to get in touch with and also her force sensitive brother, but Bail Organa knowingly sent his force sensitive daughter to the only fully trained Jedi he knew how to get in touch with and also her force sensitive brother. Because he and Mon Mothma decided things had gotten to this point.

Someone in the tags said “Bail didn’t send the plans to Obi-wan. Bail sent Leia.”

YES. The Death Star plans were a last minute bonus. Bail’s actual plans for dealing with the Empire and the Death Star was LEIA

Could you imagine being Bail and making that decision, though?

There he is, sitting on basically the last hope of the galaxy. Or rather, she’s sitting on him, because she’s two-and-a-half years old and her adopted father’s shoulders are the very best place in the world. They’re listening from Alderaan as Palpatine announces that the senate will be stripped of even more power, that the never-ending series of emergencies across the galaxy will continue.

Time feels broken, somehow. The planet rotates, the sun rises and sets, but the galaxy is frozen in a slow slide into oblivion.

Not yet, is all he can think. He’s working with the young Senator from Chandrila, spinning the wheels, trying to buy more time. Years and years more time.

~

There he is, introducing his family to a man with a black uniform and absolute control of the sector. Leia is six, and looks up at him suddenly serious, a far cry from her normal mischievous self.

“And my daughter, Leia,” he says, while his thoughts race between please don’t question her adoption and please get off my planet and the Jedi were insane to start training so young, she isn’t ready.

Bail has trouble sleeping. He’s waiting for a signal from Obi-Wan, that the time has come for him to give up his daughter. It doesn’t appear.

~

There he is, watching as his dark-eyed daughter hurls a datapad across the room in a sudden fit of rage. He’s tried to teach her peace and calm, she’s learned the watchful patience and silent stalk of a hunter.

She’s nine. He hasn’t beaten her at Dejarik in a year.

He takes her for walks, out into the parts of Alderaan where the downtrodden live and the refugees gather. He shows her what suffering is, what the Empire means. He tries to avoid thinking about her father. He tries to give her the education he thinks Jedi needed more of.

~

There he is, lying to Tarkin’s face as they walk through the halls of the palace. Leia, thirteen, is following them. Bail knows it. Tarkin does not.

See who he really is, Bail is wishing, even as he says words that toe the line of compliance with Tarkin’s demands.

The Rebellion is starting to rise. He keeps telling Mon Mothma he needs more time, that they’re moving too fast. He doesn’t tell her why.

~

There he is, welcoming his daughter back from Coruscant. She’s a rising star, already accumulating power as a junior legislator. She’s fifteen – one more year before she can run for Senate, and he knows she’s already planning it.

She has staff now, and her pretty smiles and polite manners almost perfectly hide the casuality with which she issues orders.

He’s not sure if she reminds him more of her mother or father.

Obi-Wan remains silent. Bail’s agents tell him that Tatooine is quiet, a backwater, no Imperial activity. He doesn’t find it reassuring. He waits.

~

There he is, talking to Mon Mothma. She’s laughing, charmed by his daughter, the Senator, the rebel. It’s a rare moment of levity – the Senate’s days are numbered, even as the token body it has become. The Empire’s stranglehold on the galaxy is unquestionable now.

And his daughter is nineteen. Her father had been a Jedi by now, roaming the galaxy and falling, falling towards the darkness.

The galaxy is full of darkness now, and Bail makes up his mind. Maybe it’s too late. Maybe it’s too early. He’s not Jedi, he doesn’t know, but it feels right.

“Go to Tatooine,” he tells his daughter. “Find Obi-Wan Kenobi. He can save us all.”

He thinks, but does not say, you can save us all.