Review: Star Wars

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker possesses just the right combination of nostalgia, archetype, arcs, surprises, and closure, not to mention explosions and impressive battles. I’ve enjoyed the Star Wars Saga since I was a teenager when the first film premiered in 1977, and have more or less liked every episode since that first one (minus the silly scene of the “family portrait” at the end of The Return of the Jedi and the incomprehensible Jar Jar Binks).

While I won’t say this is a franchise that defines me or has somehow dramatically impacted who I am, I do acknowledge that it has a meaningful impact on the culture.

In fact, Star Wars has been an excellent tool in my literature classes because of its great themes and archetypes.

I can love these films and wear the critic’s hat. The stories are predictable. The dialog is sometimes terrible. The resolutions are obvious. But the stories! They inspire and uplift me. I’m all about the both/and capabilities. The critics can point out what they want — the films speak to us in ways that delight and entertain. The bottom line is simple; the films are successful. They entertain us, make us laugh, make us cry. They give us heroes who are flawed and still manage to prevail. They give us a universe in which Good triumphs over Evil.

While we might discuss the themes of mercy and redemption throughout the series, with prodigal sons who descend into the Dark and then find the Light, we need only look back to the first episode release, Episode IV, to understand what this series is all about. When it first played that summer of 1977, it was just named Star Wars. The subtitle, A New Hope, came later, and is, to me, the key to understanding the whole story.

Evil — through chaos, war, oppression, and injustice — assaults the galaxy throughout the saga. Nevertheless, our heroes do not fall into despair though they do come close a few times. They long for peace, justice and love to prevail. Nothing is more poignant than Leia and Han’s love for their son, Ben, and their hope he return home. Or Rey’s conviction that the Light is worth fighting for, despite her own fears. Or Luke’s faith that the Light will, in fact, prevail.

Our heroes put their hope in the Light, giving them the strength to persevere in the fight. We love these films because the good guys win. Because hope, as we understand it as Catholic Christians, “keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity” (CCC 1818).

Hope permeates the Star Wars Saga and that is why it resonates with so many people. Not a hope that is filled with happy endings and good luck, but the deep desire and longing for happiness that is rooted in the Good.

Review: The Red Umbrella

I have a huge stack of books to read on my nightstand, but a recent conversation with one of my nieces prompted me to reread Christina Diaz Gonzalez’s touching story of love and sacrifice, The Red Umbrella. Set in the early 1960’s after the Cuban communist revolution, it follows the journey of teenaged Lucia and her little brother as they flee the oppression and dangers of a cruel regime through Operation Pedro Pan.

Terrified by the imminent danger to their physical well-being, and distraught by the brain-washing and emotional abuse inflicted on the nation’s youth, thousands of Cuban parents sent their children to the United States to protect them from the unknown horrors of totalitarianism. In conjunction with the Catholic Church and hundreds of individuals and families who came together to foster these children, Operation Pedro Pan processed and welcomed over 14,000 unaccompanied children to the U.S. from 1960-1962.

Next year marks the 60th anniversary of the beginning of this exodus. It’s stunning to recognize how many decades have passed, and how fresh this pain still is. I imagine some of these children, now in their 70’s and older, have children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. This is their story — all of them, as many of us carry the stories of our families in our hearts, never to be forgotten.

Gonzalez shares a fictional story that weaves important historical elements into the plot, gives a new generation insight into a tragic situation in Cuba, and provides families an opportunity to expound on the truths shared in the narrative. I first read this book almost a decade ago, and it still holds strong today.

You can read more about Christina Diaz Gonzalez and her books for middle grades and young adults here.

advice from a mother

early review of The Crown with brief episode 4 spoiler

I enjoy movies and television, and never more than when the stories develop compelling characters. I’m usually carrying on about the superheroes, but like so many people, The Crown has captured my heart. I’m not binging season 3, but rather, watching an episode every couple of days in order to savor the subtle changes in the actors, and what has so far been a treatment of some serious themes. Episode 3: Aberfan crushed my heart — Episode 4: Bubbikins stomped on it.

Good storytelling not only entertains us, but can also provide excellent lessons. We live vicariously through adventures and imaginary scenarios, seeing first-hand the consequences for poor choices and the gains for taking risks. Sometimes, we can learn very touching lessons about living good and virtuous lives.

I’m always delighted when the topic of faith receives a beautiful treatment in film and television. Often, the portrayals of faithful people come across as unsympathetic characters, if not targets of scorn and mockery. Nevertheless, when the writers get it right, it is beautiful indeed.

In episode four of this popular series, there is a lovely exchange between Prince Philip and his mother, Princess Alice, that captures the essence of living a faith-filled life. Misunderstandings and revelations lead to a poignant moment between mother and son that provides a powerful lesson for anyone suffering or living with a “dormant faith.”

Prince Philip, contrite, asks his mother how she survived her cruel life, and she responds with a powerful statement of her faith, “I didn’t do it alone. I couldn’t have. I had help every step of the way.” A small crucifix sits on the table behind her, and we understand that she’s speaking about the strength of her faith. Where she might have wallowed in despair, she hoped in the Lord.

Princess Alice then offers her son this advice,”Let this be a mother’s gift to her child….Find yourself a faith. It helps. No, not just helps: it’s everything.”

It’s a truth I know well. Seek the Lord, and he will find you.

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