If Sam Peckinpah Had Directed The Last Jedi

This idea came to me at the premiere this week, when one of the legendary lines from his film The Wild Bunch was referenced in WARNING CONTAINS SPOILERS!!! The Last Jedi.

So, let’s play a game. A Christmas game, if you will.

If Sam Peckinpah had directed The Last Jedi, they all would have died in the end, at the shootout, space horses and the whole bunch, with red blood I mean salt spraying all over the bodies and the surface of the Planet Crait, with a group of small children observing the action in the background, and at the very end, a lone vulptex, or crystal critter as the Rebels refer to them, would have been seen galloping through the scene of the bloodbath, sniffing at some of the bodies, then heading off towards the empty cave.

If John Dante had directed The Last Jedi, the vulptice themselves would have morphed into savage, bloodthirsty Crystal Gremlins who would have ruined the whole Dark Side/Rebels showdown with their crazy, anarchistic antics, but because it was PG7, no one would have died at the end, apart from Gizmo’s evil offspring.

If John Landis had directed The Last Jedi, Finn would have been bitten by an angry were-Wookie, an evil twin of our old pal Chewie, and he would have done his damnedest to hide this fact from Rose, until the inevitable metamorphosis scene taking place in the stolen spaceship with two full moons glowing in the dark skies, and CCR’s Bad Moon Rising playing in the intercom.

If the Coen Brothers had directed, the a code-breaker Finn and Rose recovered from the Casino would have been Jeff Bridges, with John Turturro and John Goodman as his wacky companions. Also, there would have been the opportunity to bowl at the Casino.

If Lena Dunham had directed, the connection between Kylo Ren and Rey, made possible by the mystery of the Force, or by the Supreme Leader Snoke, who can really tell at this point, would have culminated in their having awkward, panting, intergalactic sex all over the movie, with Kylo Ren missing his shirt not in one, but all of their scenes together, and Rey having misgivings after every encounter, not being quite able to make up her mind whether he was the best or the worst thing that ever happened to her.

If Quentin Tarantino had directed, the final showdown would have been set at the Casino, with an elaborate black and white fight sequence, where the high rollers would have been sporting kendo swords beneath their tuxedos, and Rose turning out to be a Martial Arts master.

If this had been a collaboration between Nora Ephron and Rob Reiner, the relationship between Finn and Rey would have been studied through a series of comically ingenious dialogues, panning a timeline of ten years, with Carrie Fisher having what she was having after seeing Rey educate Finn about the orgasmic differences between men and women.

If it had been a Monty Python movie, the whole cast would have broken into a crazy song about the dangers of contraception halfway into the final showdown scene, with awful killer rabbits appearing from nowhere to pester everybody, regardless allegiance or rank. In the galaxy far, far away, where the solitary Luke was hovering over a rock, a lonely guy playing Hide and Seek would have been standing behind a tree until the end of time, because the other guy he was playing with had been killed by one of the dynamite rabbits.

If John Hughes had directed, the love triangle would have been between Rey and Finn and Poe, not Finn and Rey and Rose, and it would have been much more dramatic, with Finn lip-syncing Try a Little Tenderness in the infirmary, and Poe, in an ill-fitting wig, swearing he would love her always with the headlights of the Millenium Falcon shining in the background. The audience would have been rooting for Finn and hated Poe, and there would be angry speculations years from now as to why it had to be Poe and not Finn. (Attention hair-splitters, I am aware it was really Howard Deutch and not Hughes who directed Pretty in Pink, yes.)

By the way, I am finding it interesting that so many men in this story are named John. Yes, one too many, I suppose.

As for Rian Johnson directing The Last Jedi? I’ll get back to you on that. I am not entirely happy, nor am I totally hopeless and sad, like I was when I went to see Episodes One through Three. I forgive a lot of things, as long as Jar Jar Binks never ever makes another appearance in the saga.

Some hated The Last Jedi with fiery vengeance, others liked the hell out of it. Quoting Daryl Van Horne, I’m sort of in the middle, myself. Too much stuff is always a crime, though, especially with a story that will continue and continue and continue forever. If there is unlimited number of movies yet to come, why rush it and have too many climaxes happening in one film? One just doesn’t have any feeling or empathy or stamina or, let’s face it, immersion, left, when there is an umpteenth dramatic ending scene happening. Some solutions that were too easy, some that were unnecessarily complex (I’m looking at you, Casino scene). I did like the pretty horsies, though, and the old-school puppetry of the porgs. There is always stuff to like, with the Star Wars movies. The red mineral dust just beneath the surface on the ground on Planet Crait was a gorgeous, almost rapturous visual effect. Adam Driver is so beautiful I don’t know what to do with myself when he is onscreen. And of course, the line that started this whole little collection of What-Ifs: “If they move, stun’em!”

The only time I teared up, this time, was during the end credits, when Carrie Fisher’s name was mentioned especially. Losing her so early has been heart-breaking, truly. So, here is my special mention. Carrie Fisher, wherever you are, you have appeared in some of my all-time favorite movies. Thank you for the portraits, but also for the stories, the books, the humor. I love you.