Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
In the years after the release of Return of the Jedi, but prior to the Special Editions, Star Wars fans had to content themselves with novels and comic books to experience more of these beloved stories. The then-labelled Expanded Universe included novels like Timothy Zahn’s Heir to the Empire and comics like Dark Empire, which showed us what happened to Luke, Han, and Leia in the absence of real sequels. However, the Expanded Universe also told the backstories of fan favourites in works like The Han Solo Adventures and The Lando Calrissian Adventures while also opening up the darker corners of this universe. The Expanded Universe works allowed artists other than George Lucas to play around in his magnificent story world. They weren’t essential stories, but they were fun and played with genre and tone in ways that the films never could. Ron Howard’s Solo: A Star Wars Story feels of a piece with these Expanded Universe stories. It’s barely more than fan fiction, but it’s also a rollicking heist picture and thoughtful with regards to the beloved character of Han Solo (Alden Ehrenreich). Most importantly, it is exuberant about the Star Wars world it gets to play within.
Right from the opening text, it’s clear that this is not one of the core Star Wars stories. Instead of an opening crawl, there is on-screen text reminiscent of the opening text in Blade Runner, which sets the stage for the lawless world between the Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy that we’re about to enter. The Empire is present in Solo and a significant force for the heroes to contend with, but the real sources of conflict here are the crime syndicates. Howard and writers Jonathan Kasdan and Lawrence Kasdan use the setting as an excuse to open up the universe of the core trilogy: to expand it, as the Expanded Universe novels did. And unlike Rogue One, the other Star Wars Story that has been released during the Disney era of Star Wars, the events of Solo do not directly impact the main plots of the Skywalker saga. This means that by definition, Solo lacks the stakes that the other Star Wars films have. And without these stakes, there is a definite lack of essentialness to the film.
On the other hand, this means that Solo is not beholden to the expectations or mythic storytelling of the Skywalker Saga, which allows it to have fun with the possibilities of this galaxy far, far away. This is evident in the film’s remarkable attention-to-detail and broad scope. There is no Tatooine here, nor Hoth, no desert or ice planets acting as a stand-in for one or the other. Instead we get the squalid alleys and sewers of Corellia, Han’s childhood home, and its Imperial port that controls access on-and-off the poverty-stricken world. Cinematographer Bradford Young drapes most scenes in heavy shadows, most notably an early scene in this port, where Han and his young love, Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke), attempt to flee the planet.
Production Designer Neil Lamont transforms the port into a fantastic version of Ellis Island and Bradford Young shoots it in a way similar to Darius Khondji’s remarkable work shooting the real Ellis Island in James Gray’s The Immigrant. The quality of this background design and the evocative atmosphere have little to do with Han’s story, but that’s one of the joys of Solo: the fact that it indulges in the Star Wars universe itself. The other planets are given similarly loving treatment, no matter how ancillary they are to the story. The muddy trenches of Mimban (the setting of the classic Star Wars novel, Splinter of the Mind’s Eye), where Han serves as an Imperial grunt after getting kicked out of the flight academy, recalls the trenches of World War I, especially as depicted in Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory. The icy world of Vandor-1 looks more similar to the Himayalas of Nepal than the northern wasteland of a Hoth-type world. Like Rogue One, Solo doesn’t have to do any heavy-lifting establishing the reality off this story world—the Original Trilogy already did that. So it gets to expend all its energy on design and detail and filling in the dark corners of this beloved universe.
The film also plays with Old Hollywood conventions, especially those of heist movies, as the central plot arc follows Han and Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo, who took over for Peter Mayhew following The Force Awakens) stealing unrefined coaxium, the fuel source essential for hyper-space travel, from the spice mines of Kessel, with the aid of Qi’ra, Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover), and Han’s mentor, the outlaw Tobias Beckett (Woody Harrelson). Solo doesn’t try to innovate in its approach to the heist genre. Instead, like The Mandolarian (which was created by Solo co-star Jon Favreau, who voices the four-armed alien, Rio), it plays into the established conventions of these classic genres and enjoys the familiar arcs and twists to the storyline. Much of Solo deals with obvious betrayals and perfunctory moments of valour. Like Old Hollywood genre pictures, Solo doesn’t try to outsmart viewers: it merely seeks to entertain them. And it does a good job of that.
The heist plot allows for exciting action scenes, most notably a train heist on Vandor-1, where Han, Chewie, and Beckett’s crew try to steal coaxium from a maglev train travelling through the snowy mountains. The design of the train itself is remarkable, with its twisting track that seems to defy gravity as it winds through the mountains. Train heists are a classic part of genre filmmaking, especially Westerns, and so it’s another example of the film playing into genre expectations. Howard doesn’t do much to reorient the scene with his camera, but he does utilize the multiple planes of movement to create visual momentum. For instance, the camera is almost always moving in the reverse direction of the train itself, creating a tension in the image itself. But just as we get the fun action of a genre film, we also get the contrived storytelling, such as the inexplicable sacrifice of Val (Thandie Newton), Beckett’s wife, during the heist. Characters in movies of this sort always seem to be sacrificing themselves in the heat of the moment, even if it makes little-to-no sense to do so.
Luckily, Solo doesn’t dwell too much on these missteps and moves along at a brisk clip. It’s also a remarkably funny movie, which may not be expected after the dourness of Rogue One, the sole other Star Wars Story. However, the film’s knack for humour is clear not long into the film. On Corellia, the Imperial recruiter tells Han that “We’ll have you flying in no time,” only for the filmmakers to cut directly to an Imperial soldier careening through the air on the battlefield of Mimban and Han looking baffled and distraught. The scene shortly thereafter that introduces Chewbacca is the silliest in the entire film, with Han being fed to Chewie—“The Beast” as the Imperial soldiers refer to him—and Han bargaining with the Wookiee by revealing his ability to speak Shyriiwook, before teaming up to escape.
Famously, Solo was originally to be helmed by comedic directors Christopher Miller and Phil Lord before Lucasfilm president Kathleen Kennedy fired them mid-production and replaced them with Ron Howard, a Hollywood veteran and long-time collaborator with George Lucas. While not much of Lord and Miller’s influence seems to be left in the finished product, the meeting with Chewbacca scene seems to be a clear indication of their unique comedic approach, which blends manic humour with nonstop narrative development. It’s among the funniest scenes in the film, especially in the ways that it nods to past Star Wars scenes—notably Luke’s showdown with the Rancor in Jabba’s Palace in Return of the Jedi—while playing the referential manner purely for laughs. The scene is soon followed up for a ridiculous shot of Han and Chewie sharing a shower together, another example of the filmmakers playing with the iconography of the characters for a laugh.
Of course, for all the interest in the design of the world and genre filmmaking, Solo is most concerned with providing an emotional backstory for a beloved character: Han Solo. The film’s ultimate gamble is that you will care about a Han Solo who is not only not the exact same Han we meet in the Original Trilogy, but who is not even played by the same actor. Thus, the film attempts to detach the appeal of Han Solo as a character from Harrison Ford as a movie star. I suspect that many people find this detachment impossible to pull off, which makes Solo a hard film to admire. However, if Alden Ehrenreich’s performance as a younger and more innocent Han Solo works for you—as it surely works for me—there’s a lot to appreciate about the film’s approach to how Han Solo came to become the lovable scoundrel he is in the Original Trilogy.
However, Ehrenreich’s performance as a young Han is certainly is a bold choice, especially when you compare it Donald Glover’s performance as a young Lando. Ehrenreich decides to go his own way and avoid trying to simply mimic Harrison Ford’s mannerisms. On the other hand, Glover impersonates Billy Dee Williams, right down to the cadence of his voice and his smile. Glover’s hugely entertaining as Lando, but he also doesn’t bring anything new to the performance. We learn trivia about Lando’s backstory, but we never come to appreciate something deeper about his character like we do with Ehrenreich’s Han. Thus, he works extremely well as a supporting performance, but the impersonation would’ve rung hollow had it been at the centre of the film. Ehrenreich, for whatever you think about his performance, is trying something new and playing to the film’s desire to reveal new truths about Han Solo as a character.
Right off the bat, Solo gives Han a Dickensian background on the streets of Corellia. He’s a “scumrat” in thrall to a Fagin-type figure, the centipede-like Lady Proxima (Linda Hunt). This scumrat Han is quick-witted and dashing, but he’s also a romantic. We meet him in the midst of executing a plot to escape Corellia with his lady love, Qi’ra. He’s not cynical and not a scoundrel—yet. During our roundtable on Solo back in 2018 after the film’s initial release, I mentioned that Han Solo is like Humphrey Bogart’s Rick Blaine in Casablanca. When we meet him in A New Hope, he is jaded and cynical and uninterested in being a part of a noble cause. In Casablanca, we learn that Rick is jaded because he got his heart broken by Ingrid Bergman’s Ilsa. In Solo, we learn that the same is true for Han Solo. This film is the story of that heartbreak, and thus, the Han we see here is much the same as the Rick Blaine we see in the flashbacks to Paris in Casablanca. He is the same man, but one who has not yet grown disillusioned.
Han’s journey over the course of the film will harden his heart—at least a little. He’s still a romantic—he’s the “good guy,” as Qi’ra tells him on the planet Savareen—but he won’t admit it. As we learn throughout Solo, Tobias Beckett is more like the man that Han is pretending to be in the Original Trilogy. Beckett is a devoted husband to Val, but he’s also a professional criminal and is quick to betray people when necessary. He owes a lot of dangerous people a lot of money, which recalls Han’s debts to Jabba the Hutt in the Original Trilogy; when he asks Han, “You have any idea what it’s like to live with a price on your head?”, we know that he will one day. Harrelson has a lot of fun in the role and it’s great casting, since Harrelson has an easygoing charm that masks much of Beckett’s inherent ruthlessness. He does bad things, but he’s likable, which leads us to lower our defenses, just as Han does.
Throughout Solo, Beckett tries to teach Han to be more cynical and to not trust the people around them. They are trying to be honest about their own ruthlessness in order to survive, but Han only ever seems to learn half the lesson with them. They offer warnings throughout, not least of which are meant to be warnings about themselves. When Han and Beckett enter the yacht of the gangster, Dryden Vos (Paul Bettany), Beckett warns Han not to talk to the other people on the yacht: “These people are not your friends,” he says. Immediately after Beckett gives his warning, Han bumps into Qi’ra and they start catching up. If Han had heeded Beckett’s words, he’d know that he shouldn’t trust Qi’ra, since they have been apart for so long that Han no longer can be sure of her character. But Han is too kind a heart to turn his back on the people he thinks are his friends; we know this to be true from the Original Trilogy, so it stands to reason it’d be true of Han in his formative years.
Predictably, Beckett ends up betraying Han to Dryden Vos once they arrive on Savareen. He tells Vos about Han’s scheme to switch the coaxium and once his betrayal is revealed, he gives Han the classic line: “I told you not to trust anyone.” Beckett’s betrayal is expected here and it leads Han to change over the course of the film. Notably, after Beckett’s betrayal, Han doesn’t make the same mistake of letting Beckett talk Han into letting his guard down. He shoots Beckett before he can draw. It’s not only the first instance of “Han shooting first” but the transformation of Han into the type of person he is in the Original Trilogy: a good man, but wary of letting down his guard.
Beckett’s betrayal informs Han’s character—just as Han takes over Beckett’s racket, heading to Tatooine to fulfill the job Beckett mentioned before his betrayal—but Qi’ra’s abandonment of Han is the real crux of Han’s origin story. Even though Han is smart enough to learn to see through Beckett’s schemes, he doesn’t expect Qi’ra to abandon him and take over Dryden Vos’s position with the crime syndicate, Crimson Dawn. Like Beckett, Qi’ra plants the seeds of her betrayal throughout the film, most notably when she tells him that “Everyone serves someone.” Han doesn’t take the hint and only in the finale does he understand the full meaning of her words.
However, even then, Han can never bury his good nature. He still gives the coaxium to the rebel marauder, Enfys Nest (Erin Kellyman), and still remains loyal to Chewie, who becomes his best friend. Although Han’s given surname—“Solo”—seems to promise that he’ll be alone in the world, he never is because he’s too drawn to the people around him. When he meets Lando, for instance, he loses the game of Sabacc because he could never bring himself to cheat like Lando can. Han is honest, and even in the finale when he finally wins the Millennium Falcon, he does so by evening the odds with Lando, not by turning the game in his favour.
In essence, Han never learns to truly heed Beckett’s warning: “Assume everyone will betray you and you’ll never be disappointed.” Although the film has shown the development of a Han who will gladly say, “I’ve got a really good feeling about this,” as he does during the Kessel Run, to a Han who’s popular refrain is, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he never truly closes himself off to the world. In the Original Trilogy, all it takes is friendship and the opportunity to be a hero for Han to make the correct moral decision in the finale of A New Hope. Here, Han may construct thicker emotional walls to protect himself after Qi’ra’s abandonment, but he never truly becomes the scoundrel that Beckett is. Thus, perhaps the truest statement that Beckett makes over the course of the film is his comment that “People are predictable.” Han is the good guy, and no matter how much he tries to change that fact, he will never truly waver from his core identity.
Perhaps people didn’t want a reminder of the inherent heroism of Han Solo and that explains Solo’s relatively lacklustre reception at the box office (along with its lack of marketing and the recasting of Han Solo). However, the idea that Han Solo is a true scoundrel is not accurate to how he is portrayed throughout the Star Wars series. He is ornery, combative, and reluctant in the Original Trilogy, but he is still a hero and he never truly abandons his friends. Thus, Solo’s origin story for Han is not a coddling return to fan beliefs about the character, but an instructive backstory, one that explains his insecurities and shortcomings while celebrating his appeal as a popular hero.
Solo is most successful as this celebration of the core identity of Han Solo and as a rousing backstory. However, it is also the Star Wars film that succumbs the most to the “Marvelization” of the franchise with its endless easter eggs. The writers, specifically Jonathan Kasdan, who has gone on the record about his love of hiding references within every corner of the film, are too enamoured of hinting at Star Wars lore throughout. It works well when it pertains to Han as a character—the dice, for instance, or Han shooting first, or the way that Han pretends to be upset with Lando in the final moments of the film, much as Lando feigns anger when meeting Han on Cloud City in The Empire Strikes Back, are comforting callbacks. However, other moments, such as Chewie once again losing at Holochess on the Millennium Falcon or Beckett wearing the same armour that Lando does when he’s undercover in Jabba’s Palace or Beckett’s reputation as the man who killed Aurra Sing, push the limits of cheeky reference. They become distracting idolatry.
Darth Maul’s reveal at the end of the film is the ultimate example of this Marvelization, as it needlessly teases out extratextual information and endlessly strings out elements of the narrative in order to placate diehard fans of The Clone Wars and Rebels. Darth Maul’s presence here is inexplicable. It’s like Thanos’s appearance in the post-credits scene of The Avengers. It promises some future payoff, but it’s nothing but fan service in the present moment. For all my enjoyment of Darth Maul as a character, his reveal could’ve been left for a sequel.
As well, Solo suffers from some grating humour that reeks too much of contemporary cinema, most notably in the form of L3-37 (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), Lando’s co-pilot droid. L3 is presented as something of a progressive scold, constantly bemoaning the unequal rights of droids and alluding to bizarre coupling with humans. When we first meet her, she complains about the establishment: “They don’t even serve our kind here,” as if a droid would actually get something out of a bar—while also lamely referencing the Mos Eisley Cantina. Later jokes such as her rebuttal to Lando’s innocuous question, “Do you need anything?,” with a stern “Equal rights,” is painful in its attempts to placate modern sensibilities. There is at least some payoff to L3’s arc, with her emancipation of the various droids on Kessel, which turns into a full-scale, chaotic rebellion, but even still, the character is a low point for the film and the series as a whole.
Because of the shameless nature of its fan service, the miscalculation of characters like L3, and the general fact that this particular story is inessential to the larger saga, Solo is the least of the big-budget Star Wars feature films. But it’s still a worthwhile addition to this franchise and an entertaining adventure. It’s best when it’s delving into the insecurities and formation of Han Solo, or is revelling in the entertainment potential of fantastic worlds and characters. But even when it’s simply a paint-by-numbers heist film or endlessly satisfying fans with easter eggs, it’s still a handsome film showcasing a considerable attention to detail. That Solo was not a bigger hit can mostly be chalked up to it lacking the inestimable charms of Harrison Ford as a movie star, and not the minor deficiencies of its considerable filmmaking craft.
8 out of 10
Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018, USA)
Directed by Ron Howard; written by Jonathan Kasdan and Lawrence Kasdan, based on Star Wars created by George Lucas; starring Alden Ehrenreich, Woody Harrelson, Emilia Clarke, Donald Glover, Thandie Newton, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Joonas Suotamo, Paul Bettany, Jon Favreau, Erin Kellyman.