Solo: A Star Wars Story

There never should have been a Han Solo prequel movie. Before we can talk about Solo: A Star Wars Story in any meaningful way, this is a fact we simply have to accept – not only is it a really boring, tired idea for a film, it's also continuing the franchises inability to look beyond the original trilogy in any meaningful way, falling into the same trap of the prequel trilogy by assuming that the more details we know of a character's backstory, the better. Originally released shortly after Star Wars: The Last Jedi dared to do something new with the franchise, this film can't help but feel like a huge step backwards. Around the clumsy references and eye-roll inducing nods at the audience, Solo: A Star Wars Story is at its core just an excuse to see some characters you know and some you don't on a mostly standalone and refreshingly small-scale adventure, and from that perspective... well, it's not bad.

At the very least it's more entertaining than you might expect, especially once you take into account its more than just troubled production. For those not in the know, original directors Phil Lord and Chris Miller had been filming Solo: A Star Wars Story for four months before they were unceremoniously fired and replaced by Ron Howard, who went on to reshoot approximately 70% of the film. That the end product isn't a complete and utter mess is nothing short of a minor miracle, one only made all the more impressive by the film somehow feeling more cohesive as a movie than Rogue One (which had a significantly less troubled production) ever did.

Which isn't to say that it doesn't suffer from some of the same problems, of course, merely that they don't affect Solo: A Star Wars Story to such a high degree. Both films open poorly thanks to rushed and messy first acts that fail to draw the audience in or engage them on any meaningful level, but where Rogue One doesn't settle into itself until the finale rolls around, Solo: A Star Wars Story gets there much sooner. By the time Han has joined a criminal gang and teamed up with Lando Calrissian in order to pull off a virtually impossible heist, Solo: A Star Wars Story has found its rhythm, and while it never aims for something not easily within its reach (this might actually be least ambitious movie ever made), it's also rarely outright unenjoyable.

And I recognise that's maybe the mildest praise ever given to any film ever, but in this case it's praise nevertheless. You're not going to walk out of Solo: A Star Wars Story with a new favourite film by any means, but its 2 hours and 15 minutes running time passes surprisingly quickly thanks to the simple fact that it never really stops moving, imbuing the film with a breezy, lightweight, feel-good sense of easy-watching that's hard to be all that offended by. The stakes are low, nothing more than a few thieves trying to worm their way out of a sticky situation, and that can't help but feel pretty refreshing for a franchise in which every other film sees the fate of the galaxy hanging in the balance.

That's doesn't mean that it isn't capable of being quite exciting though. You might never be under the illusion that these characters are in real danger thanks to the aforementioned light and easy tone, but the originality of Solo: A Star Wars Story's set pieces alone means they're pretty fun, which is to say nothing of how well some of them are filmed. This, I think, is where the behind-the-scenes troubles seem most obvious, albeit in a good way – a lot of Solo: A Star Wars Story is shot in a fairly pedestrian way, yet every so often there will be a really impressive, kinetic shot or two that seemingly come out of nowhere. I have no way of knowing if these shots are ones left over from when Lord and Miller were directing or shots added in by Ron Howard (I suspect the former, but I wouldn't be hugely shocked to find out the latter), and in truth I really don't care - all that matters is that they're very good, adding a sense of weight or urgency or scale to a scene exactly when it's needed most.

And while a lot of Solo: A Star Wars Story's characters are various degrees of underwritten (some shamefully so, especially those who don't stick around for long), the eventual main cast are pretty good in their roles at worst and downright excellent at best, adding a lot to the film through performance alone. Woody Harrelson is perfect as the rough around the edges mentor figure Tobias Beckett, who feels very much like if someone took his character from The Hunger Games, Paul Bettany seems to be thrilled to have the opportunity to really ham it up as main antagonist Dryden Vos, and Donald Glover is naturally fantastic as both versions of Lando that we see, the smoother than smooth facade he presents to people throughout most of the film and the more vulnerable, human version we glimpse at times.

Solo: A Star Wars Story is an OK film that's unlikely to inspire an all too strong reaction from many people in either direction. It's entertaining in a very gentle way, never expecting too much from its audience and hoping its audience don't expect too much in return, and by and large succeeds on its own terms. Ultimately your mileage may vary, but in spite of everything I was entertained by Solo: A Star Wars Story – and at the end of the day, that's nothing to grumble about.

Godzilla (2014)

It seems there was a lot of criticism aimed at the Godzilla film regarding the use of the titular character as I discovered whilst reading up on the film after watching it last night. Everyone seemed to slate it due to the limited screen time Godzilla, the creature, actually got. I sort of agree, and also very much so find myself disagreeing too.

This film teases us for the best part of two hours, and it does so masterfully. There are some incredibly well shot scenes where Godzilla appears in some of the best and most memorable entrances a giant monster could have – a foot lands in front of a screaming crowd, silencing them, or he is slowly lit up by flares fired from a rooftop – and then it cuts away, leaving you desperately wanting to see more. There are at least three of these jaw dropping entrances before we even get to see him fight, and it means that when we do finally get to see him in action it feels all the more bad-ass. The fights between Godzilla and the MUTO's are short and quick, mostly seen from an up close human perspective or incredibly far away, so we can see these giants battle it out amongst sky scrapers. This choice means that we never lose that sense of scale or size that makes this film so visually impressive. Action fatigue fails to set in because of the restraint the film shows, and it ends leaving you desperately wanting more in the best possible way.

However, if you can't get behind the build up and anticipation, you aren't going to get a lot from this film. Bryan Cranston doesn't get the screen time he deserves, despite playing the most fleshed out character and being the best actor in the cast by a long margin. The main human characters, played by Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Elizabeth Olsen are pretty forgettable, but they are serviceable as the emotional hook of the film and work well enough with the suitably simplistic story for it not to matter a great deal. The film moves at a good enough pace to keep things fresh, with the teases of Godzilla mentioned earlier keeping you interested enough in the story for it to matter when the finale rolls around.

This film is by no means a master class in story telling or even a good lesson in writing characters, but it was never meant to be. Godzilla is all about spectacle, scope and a surprising amount of restraint, and it achieves this in an age of cinema where audiences are expected to get bored if ten minutes pass without an action scene. This film treats you like an adult, with enough patience to sit still and shut up and allow the film to tease you – and if you are willing to let it do that, you will not be disappointed.