Introduction
The Sequel Trilogy is likely the most contested contemporary piece of Star Wars media since the Disney acquisition of the franchise in 2012. Both fans and critics alike have mixed views on the movies, with the more negative viewpoints generally receiving the most attention in online spaces. In fact, the most criticized aspect of the sequels is often centered around various forms of “bad writing”, which, when presented reasonably, have validity.
Therefore, how can fans, ranging from the most involved to the most casual, find any value in the content of these movies when there is such a convincing body of evidence suggesting otherwise?
Here, common criticisms labeled as bad writing such as “Rey never loses”, “Rey has no arc” and “There was no plan” that are often used to criticize Rey and the sequels are examined and compared to the other Star Wars trilogies in order to explore the extent of their validity, and to probe how personal preference plays a role in shaping negative attitudes about Rey. Ultimately, it would appear that enjoyment of Rey and the sequels relies less on a planned overarching connectivity among the sequel movies (which the sequels do poorly), and more on smaller-scale character dynamics and narratives (which the sequels do well).
Rey never loses or has to learn anything
One of the most common criticisms of Rey in the sequels is that Rey easily wins every duel or confrontation without a plausible explanation, and, in turn, never has to train or learn anything in order to progress as a character. She largely begins the trilogy perfect and ends perfect.
Examples of this throughout the trilogy point to Rey and Kylo Ren’s duel on Starkiller base in The Force Awakens, the duel in Snoke’s throne room in The Last Jedi, and Rey and Kylo Ren’s final duel on Kef Bir in The Rise of Skywalker. In all of these confrontations, Rey is seen as wining easily and, moreover, learns nothing from these encounters from movie to movie.
In isolation there is truth to these statements. However, when the movies are examined more holistically and as a unit, it does not appear that Rey wins in many important confrontations. In fact, Rey actually loses in each of the three trilogy movies in an important way (Figure 1). Moreover, when she does win, even when it appears that she should not, it plays into the context of Rey’s larger story that unfolds throughout the trilogy.
Figure 1. Unlike the protagonists of the other trilogy movies, Rey loses in each of the three sequel movies to principal antagonists. A. To Kylo Ren on Takodana. B. To Snoke in his throne room. C. To Kylo Ren on Kef Bir.
Rey’s loss in The Force Awakens
In The Force Awakens, most of the criticism directed at Rey comes from the duel between her and Kylo Ren on Starkiller base. This duel appears to show an unskilled fighter, Rey, best a skilled Dark side user, Kylo Ren. However, in order to better understand this climactic duel, one must consider the confrontation that occurred between Kylo Ren and Rey before this one on Takodana that is generally overlooked.
On Takodana, Rey and Kylo Ben confront each other for the first time. Rey tries to shoot Kylo Ren many times with her blaster, but Kylo effortlessly deflects these attacks, and then easily Force-freezes Rey, knocks her out, and carries her away (Figure 2). During this confrontation Rey does not even put up a fight. This is a clear loss for Rey, but more importantly it demonstrates that on her own, Rey is no match for Kylo Ren.
Figure 2. Rey is easily overpowered by Kylo Ren on Takodana in an often overlooked confrontation.
So when Rey and Kylo Ren duel again later in the movie on Starkiller base, Kylo is again easily overpowering Rey despite Kylo being severely injured and internally conflicted. He Force-tosses her into a tree, then pushes her further and further backwards with his lightsaber while Rey swings her saber wildly. And, once Kylo has the opportunity to defeat Rey, he chooses not to do so. Instead, he tries to persuade Rey. It is only there that Rey then taps into the Force, catches Kylo off-guard, and is able to win that duel by harnessing an immediate and powerful use of the Force.
Indeed, just by watching this scene it is easy to question Rey’s immediate use of the Force, and how winning this duel so early in the trilogy would seem implausible. However, this win for Rey is not merely a superficial “girl boss” moment for the audience, but has narrative significance for the character in the long-term of the trilogy.
First, it begins to illustrate the unique Force connection Rey and Kylo Ren have (also shown when Kylo interrogates Rey earlier in the movie) that is later revealed as a (very powerful) Force dyad in the third movie. But it also illustrates that when Rey does tap into the Force, she appears to struggle with its significance afterwords. Rey’s win on Starkiller base ultimately frightens her, and her reaction is not to go out and “win everything”, but to seek help from Luke Skywalker in the next movie, The Last Jedi (Figure 3).
Figure 3. After Rey taps into the Force in The Force Awakens, she goes to Luke for help. She says, “Something inside me has always been there, and now it’s awake. And I’m afraid. I don’t know what it is or what to do with it … I need help.”
Rey’s loss in The Last Jedi
In The Last Jedi, during another important confrontation in the trilogy where Rey is considered to win easily, Rey encounters Snoke and Kylo Ren in Snoke’s throne room. However, and unlike what is generally perceived, Rey again loses quickly and easily to Snoke. Even after training with Luke on Ahch-To, Snoke effortlessly deflects any attacks Rey makes, drags her to him, lifts her in the air with the Force, and extracts the information he wants from her (Figure 1B). It was no contest. Rey only escapes Snoke because Kylo Ren intervenes. Likewise, Rey is only able to escape the Praetorian guards because of Kylo’s help. Moreover, when Kylo and Rey then confront each other, it is a draw. Neither wins. Therefore, the confrontations in Snoke’s throne room are far from an easy win for Rey.
More importantly, Rey’s loss to Snoke and her draw with Kylo Ren makes sense from a narrative perspective. First, it continues the development of Rey and Kylo’s connection in the Force (two parts of a powerful Force dyad). But more importantly for Rey’s character development, her naivety in her belief that she can turn Kylo Ren from the Dark, and her overconfidence in her ability to defeat Snoke are checked.
She is forced to reconcile that she alone cannot do these things. She learns that she cannot help Kylo Ren and that he has to confront his own demons (which he does in the next film), and by the end of the The Last Jedi when Leia tells Rey “We have all we need”, she is suggesting that it’s the people around Rey, including Leia, that can help her. And in the next and final movie, Leia takes on the role of Rey’s master and matriarch, and spends more than a year training Rey to be a Jedi so she can confront her destiny.
Rey’s loss in the Rise of Skywalker
In the final sequel movie, The Rise of Skywalker, after training with Leia for over a year, and harnessing the skills of a Jedi (all of which are shown onscreen), Rey loses yet again in the movie’s pivotal duel with Kylo Ren on Kef Bir, a loss that is often overlooked. Here, a full strength and fully focused Kylo Ren uses Rey’s weakness against her, namely, that she is quickly angered and loses focus, and he slowly overpowers her until she is exhausted and on the floor with Kylo reaching up to give what appears to be a final blow (Figure 1C).
Of course, it is not until Kylo’s mother, Leia, connects with with him through the Force that he is given pause which allows Rey to take advantage of the otherwise lost situation, and she delivers a near fatal strike to Kylo with his own lightsaber. Presumably, this may be how this duel is incorrectly interpreted as a win for Rey. And yet again, Rey’s response is not to run off and “win everything” and go defeat Palpatine, but to isolate herself in fear on Ahch-To where she ultimately receives guidance from Luke about fear, and reflects on her internal conflict of being a descendant of Palpatine.
And, during the climactic confrontation with Palpatine at the end of the movie, Rey is similarly unable to defeat Palpatine on her own. A redeemed Ben Solo arrives to help Rey. And, when her and Ben are taken down by Palpatine, Rey then communes with, and receives help from, the past Jedi in order to defeat Palpatine (she also dies). So even by the end of the third movie of the trilogy, Rey is hardly a character that is “perfect”, “always wins”, and “never learns anything”, but continually self-reflects on her actions, her destiny, and needs help from others to succeed.
How do Rey’s duels and training compare to the protagonists of the other Star Wars trilogies?
Many critiques of Rey rely on some measure of how much she needs to lose or is shown training, or some other subjective measure of suffering she must endure in order to be legitimized as a Star Wars character. However, when losses by the principal protagonists of the three Star Wars trilogies (Anakin, Luke, and Rey) are examined, Rey is the only one who loses in significant duels or confrontations with principal antagonists in every movie of their respective trilogy, and she is also shown training the most onscreen (see previous section).
For example, Anakin is not shown onscreen training to be a Jedi in any of the prequel movies, or struggling with how to utilize the Force. He is simply shown as naturally and exceptionally gifted. He does not have to meet a subjective threshold of suffering to be a powerful Force user. In fact, no deep narrative explanation or exposition is given except that he is the Chosen One (with a high midi-chlorian count), and that the audience simply already knows he will become Darth Vader so he must be powerful.
This is not inherently bad from a writing perspective, except that other Star Wars characters like Rey are not given such liberties, and she is often held to a different standard. Very specific criteria from fans are required in order to legitimize her character that are mostly ignored for other characters like Anakin. Anakin’s backstory of being the Chosen One (i.e., one of the most powerful Jedi ever, and never shown training in the Force) is acceptable. But Rey, whose backstory of being part of a very powerful Force dyad (with Kylo Ren), and is shown training on how to use the Force as well as losing in confrontations throughout the sequel trilogy does not meet an acceptable standard.
Even when Anakin is shown losing in a duel, it is largely insignificant for the character. For example, the only major loss Anakin suffers (besides the inevitable confrontation with Obi-Wan that everyone knew was coming since A New Hope) was to Count Dooku in Attack of the Clones. He loses his hand by a lightsaber strike and is knocked unconscious with a Force push (Figure 4A). This loss, the literal loss of a limb, is often cited as an example of how Anakin loses (and suffers) in a more significant and meaningful way than Rey.
Figure 4. Anakin’s loss to Count Dooku in Attack of the Clones is mostly narratively insignificant. A. Anakin loses his hand. B. He does not suffer any consequences from this and kills Dooku in the next movie by himself without much effort.
However, only a few scenes later in the same movie, Anakin is shown with a new prosthetic hand. But more importantly, he does not suffer any consequences for his actions that led to losing his hand. Anakin can use his new prosthetic hand just as he did before. He never has to contend with any weakened abilities or contemplate his decisions. He never really learns anything from this experience except that in the next movie, Revenge of the Sith, Anakin simply agrees with Obi-Wan to attack Count Dooku together before Anakin kills Dooku by himself anyway (Figure 4B). Anakin never really needed Obi-Wan’s help. Therefore, Anakin’s loss (and his hand) is narratively insignificant and only serves as a superficial visual for the audience.
This again is not inherently bad from a writing perspective. However, the litmus test applied to Rey that finds constant fault with her not sufficiently dealing with consequences is generally not applied to characters like Anakin. I don’t imagine Rey getting a limb amputated would go so easily uncriticized. As outlined above, Rey is shown losing and dealing with the consequences of her interactions despite not having to lose limbs in order to qualify for subjective levels of sufficient suffering.
In A New Hope, Luke receives minimal instruction on the Force by Obi-Wan. He takes a few nicks from a training droid, and then proceeds to take his “first step into a larger world” by not only deflecting a few strikes by the same training droid, but by delivering arguably one of the most difficult shots in the galaxy. He blows up the Death Star solely by using the Force after essentially one lesson (not to mention the ability to fly the Star Wars equivalent of an F-18 Hornet when only ever flying Cessnas).
Again, this is not necessarily bad writing. And, in fact, in the case of Luke and the original trilogy his journey into the Force to become a Jedi is explored more deeply in the following movies, although a good piece of it occurs offscreen between movies. Even so, Luke’s story is well-received (as it should be, nothing’s flawless), but so much so that Luke’s arc in the original trilogy is often used to demonstrate how badly written Rey’s story is in the sequel trilogy.
Maybe so in some cases, no character is realistically “perfectly written” in Star Wars (not even Luke’s). But, this negative comparison is largely based on restricting how the Force can work in different individuals and how stories can be told by not allowing for new ones in different characters. Luke’s journey into the Force is his own and satisfying. And Rey’s journey is also her own, and is satisfying to many in that her experience is new and, in many ways, the inverse of that of Luke’s. Instead of gaining Force strength in smaller increments, Rey receives it suddenly and in large doses. So much so that she is frightened and seeks help throughout her journey in Luke and Leia. Neither Luke’s nor Rey’s story should negate the other.
Rey’s raw Force ability is explained as Rey being part of a Force dyad with Kylo Ren, which is very powerful. It is a new addition to the lore and adds to the mythology of Star Wars as a new manifestation of the Force. If the concept of the Chosen One is good enough, so should the concept of a Force dyad. This new view of how the Force can work appeals to many fans and ties into that of Rey’s larger story arc.
Rey has no arc
The perception that Rey’s character has no story arc is likely the result of the different flavors of the character portrayed by the two different directors of the sequel trilogy, J.J. Abrams and Rian Johnson. The two directors had varying visions of the same theme of self-discovery common to stories of The Hero’s Journey. Rian Johnson chose to explore Rey through a more “existential” view of a generic everyman while deconstructing what it means to be a hero, while J.J. Abrams explored Rey’s journey as someone tied to her world while exploring what it means to be a Skywalker.
Undoubtedly, these differences were too much for many fans who could not connect with seemingly clashing tones of the character, which is understandable. However, even though there are tonal differences between the two directors, the overall arc of Rey’s character is intact, and in many ways Rey’s journey flows well between the movies.
What is consistent among all the sequel movies is that Rey’s arc is a story of self-discovery specifically through family and how that is reflected through her destiny as a Jedi.
In the first movie, The Force Awakens, Rey is introduced as a young adult who was left alone as a child and forced to raise herself, all the while waiting for her family to return. She continually avoids her call to adventure by clinging to her desire to wait for her family to return. However, when she is forced to move ahead by the larger-than-life events in which she finds herself, this desire for family drives Rey’s character throughout the trilogy.
And in The Last Jedi, it is not until she accepts that her family will not return, and that she has to make her future her own, is she able to move forward. In return, this desire for belonging through family then translates into Rey’s destiny as a Jedi.
In the final movie, The Rise of Skywalker, Rey has to contend with her inner conflict of being a descendant of Palpatine, and the perceived inevitability of her following in her grandfather’s path to the Dark. Rey ultimately rejects her destiny to the Dark and chooses her own path. As Luke tells her “Some things are stronger than blood”.
In the end, it does not matter if Rey’s story is of an “everyman nobody” (Rian Johnson) or a “nobody because your family wanted to keep you safe” (J.J. Abrams). The underlying themes of not letting your past define you, and your family is what you make it resonates with many fans. Moreover, it is often the smaller character dynamics that are most satisfying. For example, Rey’s friendship with Finn and Poe and her connection with Ben Solo as a Force dyad are executed well on screen (and well-acted) and many fans connect with those interactions and smaller narratives.
Ultimately, personal preference and unmet expectations also play an important role. Many fans now connect with the characters and arcs of the prequel trilogy despite a previous generation of fans that could not, who mostly considered them stale, wooden or poorly executed (like Anakin and Padmé’s love story or Anakin’s transformation to Darth Vader). Rey and the sequels are not so different in that many fans simply end up connecting with those characters and their stories despite other shortcomings.
There was no plan or overarching artistic vision to the sequels
The most obvious and well-recognized critique of the sequel trilogy lies in the way Disney/Lucasfilm chose to handle the writing of the three movies. Instead of establishing a narrative scaffold with the core story elements pre-determined that the individual directors could build around, they opted for each director to have the creative freedom to determine major story elements for their respective movie, and then pass that along to the next director. Any future story elements suggested by one director could be ignored or reshaped by the other.
This was largely a creative experiment that in hindsight resulted in a thematic and artistically disjointed trilogy. Even fans who enjoy the sequels recognize the disconnect. Although the overarching narrative lines that link the movies are there, many are retroactive which ends up working for some fans but not for others. Consequently, the larger thematic explorations of the sequels mostly work within each movie.
Nonetheless, this is not the first time Star Wars trilogy movies have been unplanned or taken large narrative turns (for better or worse). A clear example would be Princess Leia in the original trilogy. Throughout the first two movies, she was never intended to be Luke’s sister, and it shows. There is no slow reveal, hints or planned foreshadowing. In fact, Luke and Leia kiss on the lips twice (a retroactive gaff that would not be tolerated by today’s fans), and although the sibling reveal in Return of the Jedi had an emotional appeal, it was arguably not well-executed.
A similar situation applies to Darth Vader. He was not originally written as Luke’s father, but his reveal in The Empire Strikes Back is considered one of the best twists in cinema history. Even so, Vader’s road to redemption was not so smooth. There was no real set-up except for one scene in Return of the Jedi where Vader appears to be more than an irredeemable villain.
The point being, is that although the original trilogy had its share of narrative shortcomings, what is important is that it still resonated with the fans on an emotional level. And once people are emotionally connected to the content, there is no intense impulse to aggressively critique and fault-find.
So when it comes to the sequel trilogy, when many fans didn’t connect with the movies, either because of the tonal differences given to Rey by the different directors or the lack of a cohesive narrative scaffold, it became easy to disregard the movies entirely and drag them through the mud with constant incredulity, even for the most inane things. Unfulfilled expectations can be a great negative motivator.
This again is not new. Many fans who grew up with the original trilogy could not connect with the prequels when they were released and found it easy to ridicule them. It didn’t matter if there was a plan or cohesive narrative as is often stated as the reason why people like the prequels. The characters, the tone, the dialogue, the excess CGI, the awkward execution of the primary narratives (and more) were all considered a huge disappointment, and many simply walked away from the franchise (documentaries and songs were even written about it).
So whether one enjoys the sequels or the other Star Wars trilogies, the reasons stem primarily from the emotional connections, or lack thereof, to the content. So much so, that many negative critiques (of all Star Wars content) often end up verging on thinly veiled personal gripes rooted in a sense of disappointment. This often leads to biases where disliked movies often receive excessive critique for things largely ignored, or explained away, in movies that are liked.
In the end, it would appear that Star Wars has grown so large and is so engrained in the psyche of its fans, who now have very specific and varied requirements in order to enjoy Star Wars, that it will never be able to satisfy everyone. And that may be okay. Star Wars is just entertainment. And for the fans who enjoy the sequels, most of their satisfaction appears to lie in the smaller things those movies execute well, which some of the other trilogies may do poorly. Whether one connects with it or not, there is definitely some great Star Wars in the sequels.