Why “Solo: A Star Wars Story” Flew So Low: How The Screenplay Was The Film’s Biggest Weakness
Warning: This editorial has spoilers for Solo: A Star Wars Story.
It all starts with the screenplay. As Alfred Hitchcock famously said, “To make a great film you need three things — the script, the script and the script.” All great films once started out with a well-written screenplay or at the very least a well-written idea. In the case of Solo: A Star Wars Story, it had the added benefit of boasting one of the greatest living screenwriters around: Lawrence Kasdan, who’s written more classics than most contemporary screenwriters working today. This is the man that gave us the scripts for The Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Wyatt Earp, The Big Chill, Silverado, and Dreamcatcher. (Just kidding, Stephen King fans.)
With that said, then why was the screenplay for Solo: A Star Wars Story the film’s weakest aspect? Why was Han Solo, the film’s leading character, a pale comparison from the Han Solo we know and love in the Original Trilogy? Why did the film feel so utterly safe? And why did the stakes feel so…low?
Well, let’s exmaine why.
There’s been a lot of noisy brouhaha online about the behind-the-scenes drama for Solo. After all, Lucasfilm and Kathleen Kennedy notoriously fired the film’s original directors, Christopher Miller and Phil Lord, with mere weeks left on the filming schedule. They were replaced with Ron Howard, who delivered a serviceable and perfectly acceptable Star Wars film. As I said in my review, the film is fun, entertaining, but mostly forgettable. Who knows what kind of film Lord & Miller were trying to make — however, judging from rumors, it was grittier and riskier — but I honestly don’t even blame the film’s failures on the direction or behind-the-scenes turmoil. I think the film’s biggest misfire is the underdeveloped and underwritten screenplay, which I’m just as surprised to write as I am sure you are to read.
For a film co-written by the guy that helped give us arugably the greatest Star Wars film, how could Solo feel like one of the worst?
I have some theories, which I’ll get into in a little bit. However, Solo’s storytelling flaws are particularly egregious given that Lawrence Kasdan was the one campaigning for this film from the very beginning, even before the Disney acquisition. It’s possible the story was just not a very good idea to begin with. I’ll always argue that Han Solo was an interesting character partly because of how he was written, but mostly because of how Harrison Ford played him. There were a lot of actors that read for that part — including Nick Notle, James Caan, Kurt Russell, and Christopher Walken (you read that right) — but it was Harrison Ford and his rugged swagger that turned that character, and subsequently Ford himself, into one of cinema’s most memorable leading men. Without Ford, and you have a character that is fun, but loses that distinct Ford charm. Alden Ehrenreich is a great actor, and his performance in Hail, Caesar is one of the film’s highlights. He does an admirable job filling Ford’s space boots, but even the most talented young actor can’t replicate the specific bravado Ford brought to the character. Solo: A Star Wars Story is evidence of that.
You also have an origin story that tries to explain how Han Solo became one of the galaxy’s most ruthless smugglers — when the “how” was never what made Han interesting to begin with. The reality is that origin stories are often the least exciting part of any story. That’s why the sequels are usually better than the first installment — once you get the required set-up out of the way, then you’re allowed to really have some fun. That’s why The Dark Knight, X2: X-Men United, Spider-Man 2, and the franchise’s own The Empire Strikes Back are usually considered better than their respective originals. I don’t think audiences or even die-hard Star Wars aficionados were really clamoring for a story that explores how Han Solo got his lucky space dice. Or how he got his blaster. Or how he came across Lando or met Chewie. I would argue any of the information we receive in Solo: A Star Wars Story doesn’t enhance the character, or give us any new, revelatory information that sheds light on Han that we didn’t already know or couldn’t surmise ourselves. What’s worse is that the way Lawrence Kasdan and his son, Jon Kasdan, have written Solo is giving us these parcels of information in the least exciting way possible.
I’m a firm believer that any story has potential. Speed is an action film that could’ve been very dull or unexciting, but works way better than it has any right to. Or, perhaps a better comparison: The Lego Movie (directed by Lord & Miller) could’ve easily been a cash grab and a completely stupid movie. However, that film is so full of genuine heart and infectious charm it literally bursts at the blocks and explodes onto the screen. There was a lot of indifference going against a young Han Solo film, but Kasdan and Lucasfilm had every opportunity to prove people wrong. What’s worse is that the ingreidents are there for Solo: A Star Wars Story to have been good, to have been better than how it turned out. However, the entire film screams like a huge missed opportunity, which is partly why it is so frustrating for me. I don’t mind complete misfires. I’d be much more tolerant if a film tries to take risks, or tries to do something new, even if it fails (ahem, The Last Jedi — a film that largely succeeds for me). I’m much harder on films that could’ve been great, but just end up being mediocre.
That’s exactly where Solo: A Star Wars Story lives — straddling the line between “good” and “great”, but sadly landing right smack in the middle of “decent”.
So where exactly did the screenplay for Solo: A Star Wars Story go wrong? Well, for one, for a movie about Han Solo’s origins the film doesn’t nearly let Han Solo experience enough of a transformation. His arc is certainly there, but it feels so thinly defined to say it is there is being generous. In discussing Han’s arc in Solo, I want to quote one of my favorite professors of cinematic storytelling — Robert McKee. He’s written many highly informative novels on the formative and structural tenets of screenwriting, and he’s a great learning source. I highly recommend his books if you ever want to learn the foundation of storytelling. McKee talks a lot about character arcs and transformation in his books. Here’s one of his quotes that always stuck with me the most when describing character transformation:
“True CHARACTER is revealed in the choices a human being makes under pressure — the greater the pressure, the deeper the revelation, the truer the choice to the character’s essential nature.”
When it comes to the choices Han makes in Solo: A Star Wars Story, it certainly feels like the choices could’ve been bolder. When you think about the defining choices Han makes that define him in Solo, he really only makes a couple of discernible choices. He chooses to shoot Tobias Beckett (Woody Harrelson), he decides to go on his own, he decides to beat Lando (Donald Glover) at his own game to win the Millennium Falcon, but were those choices honestly substantiative enough to justify an entire film about them? The story is all about Han transforming from this optimistic and bright kid to the cynical smuggler we all know and love, but it certainly doesn’t feel like Han went through enough to earn that. The film’s screenplay toys around with the idea that Han Solo will be betrayed by those closest to him, which is Tobias and his love interest Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke). Except those moments feel incredibly telegraphed. Tobias warns Han about “not trusting anyone”, but there’s really not much at stake during the climax. Sure, if Han isn’t able to deliver the coaxium his life is at risk, but that’s par for the course. Han doesn’t lose anyone close to him, besides Tobias and Qi’ra. However, if you were paying any attention, that wouldn’t come as any surprise.
Which brings me to my biggest gripe with the film — when Tobias inevitably betrays Han.
When Solo: A Star Wars Story begins, Han meets Tobias and other members of his crew when he’s a young Imperial officer. Given how the film plays out, Han has only really known Tobias for a couple days, maybe more, when Tobias betrays him at the end of the film. It feels like such a narrative misstep not to have Tobias be a mentor that Han has known his entire life. There’s some talk about “not trusting anyone”, but that theme could have been played up so much more. Tobias’ mentorship to Han, and his relationship to him both as a character and as a father figure, would have been so much more meaningful if Beckett was Han’s partner or mentor since he was a kid. Maybe he saved him from his days on Coriella. He keeps on trying to teach him the lesson “don’t trust anyone”, but Han is too bright and optimistic to listen.
Then, when Beckett inevitably betrays him at the end, and Han has to kill him, you can have Beckett say something along the lines of “We’re no longer partners. You’re going to have to go solo now.” And that’s where Han gets his name. It still might’ve been a tad cheesy, but at least it would’ve been earned. The moments that happen to Han — verses Han making those moments happen — don’t feel earned, which is my biggest problem with his character arc in the film. Imagine if he got his blaster by doing something meaningful, like using it to save Chewbecca’s life or doing something equivalent. Instead, he just gets handed the blaster. Yes, he eventually uses that blaster to kill Beckett, but given how he just met Beckett, that act feels hollow. If he killed Beckett and took his blaster, or his lucky dice, and they were a symbolic gesture of what he lost trusting someone — they would have had far more significance. As it happens in the film, the bit with the Imperial Guard was just eye-roll inducing. So a random Imperial officer gives Han Solo his name? Give me a break. Han makes choices in Solo, but those choices don’t feel substantial enough to justify the character growth. As Robert McKee said, “the greater the pressure, the greater the revelation, the truer the choice to the character’s essential nature”. Han could have, and should have, been forced to make some tougher choices in the film, which would’ve made his eventual transformation carry more weight.
With the recent announcement that James Mangold is writing and directing a solo Boba Fett spin-off, I can only hope that these future Star Wars stories give more attention to the “script, script, and script.” After the poor box office performance of Solo: A Star Wars Story, it’ll be interesting to see which standalone films end up making it out of a galaxy, far far away and toward the nearest theater. Like Forbes, I agree that Star Wars can survive one failure. After all, it survived the prequels.
So long as Lucasfilm remembers what Hitchcock said.
