Further Thoughts on Rogue One

In thinking about Rogue One and its ragtag band of rebels made up of a white woman, four men of color, and a deadpan droid, different things come to mind.  There’s the regrettable, like, “Jyn is great and all, but one complex heroine doesn’t even out the gender imbalance here,” or, “How long before we see women of color in Star Wars?”  However, there’s also the positive, like, “Can I get a whole prequel about Chirrut and Baze?” or, “A movie about women and PoC working to fight against fascist oppressors is just the type of movie we need right now” (well, the reasons why we need it aren’t positive, but given that those reasons aren’t going away anytime soon, I appreciate the movie’s existence even more.)  One thing, though, that really struck me about Rogue One and its place within the Star Wars saga is the parallels it draws – intentional or otherwise – to our relationship with history, race, and gender (premise spoilers.)

The original films are classics for a reason, but they’re also products of the time in which they were made, as we essentially have one prominent PoC and one significant woman in the span of three movies.  Now, I don’t really want to bag on Leia here – for all the gold bikinis, she’s still a very rootable character who stays strong in the face of immense hardships.  That said, she doesn’t get the volume of big Action Hero moments that white guys Luke and Han do, and while there are obviously many different ways to be strong, these are the moments that speak the loudest in series like this, and so the films do tend to push Luke and Han forward as the “heroes” more visibly than they do Leia.

The prequel trilogy does little to improve on this front.  In place of Leia and Lando, we have Padme and Mace Windu, surrounded by the white guys who are the main movers of the plot.  The prequels also add Jar-Jar, which certainly can’t be considered a win for diversity.  (Not that a lack of racial and gender diversity is the only reason the prequels don’t deliever – there are many, and plenty of fans can enumerate them far better than me – but it doesn’t help.)

The Force Awakens, on the other hand, feels like a conscious shift.  With our new trio of Rey, Finn, and Poe, the film seems to carry the unspoken brand of “a new Star Wars for a new era.”  A galaxy far, far away with room for everyone, where the new heroes you see onscreen don’t necessarily have to look like the heroes you’ve seen before.  Even showing General Leia in a key role feels like part of the same thread, a pioneer from the past seeing the fruits her labors have borne for the new generation.

But then, we have Rogue One.  It was made after The Force Awakens and adds to the gender and racial diversity of that film (though, as I’ve said, the movie still has a huge gender imbalance and has yet to really recognize WoC,) but it’s set just prior to A New Hope.  And even though A New Hope comes narratively after the prequels, it was obviously the first film made in the whole franchise, and Rogue One’s tie-ins with that film – particularly its impact on A New Hope’s third act – make it feel like a genuine precursor to the movies that came before it.  In light of that, what does it say that our heroes in this movie are a woman and people of color?  It says, “We’ve always been there.”

Not in a way that feels like kind of a copout, a la, “Dumbledore was gay the whole time!”  No, not like that.  To me, the film seems to say, “These stories have existed all along, but this is the first one you’ve been given a chance to see.”  Because the Rogue One mission does tie directly into A New Hope climactic space battle.  That movie gives us the Death Star plans that reveal the tiny flaw, allowing for Luke’s big heroic moment, but Rogue One gives us the story inside the story, the one of the people who fought to get those plans in the first place.  We’ve always known about the white guy who blew up the Death Star, but this is the first we’re hearing and the woman and PoC who got him the intel he needed to make that happen.

It reminds me of a sentiment I’ve seen online surrounding the anticipation for Hidden Figures.  Aside from, “This looks amazing!”, I keep seeing, “Why haven’t I already heard this story before?”  Why didn’t I know about these incredible Black women who helped allow a white guy to orbit the Earth, and what other stories from our history haven’t been given their proper due because they don’t star the more acceptably-packaged straight white able-bodied male protagonist?

The diversity in Rogue One is progressive, but in this way, it also feels like an unspoken acknowledgment of a past to make up for.  Rather than merely congratulating itself for its diversity, the film seems to recognize that it isn’t just moving forward.  It’s also making up for lost time, almost apologizing for the stories it could have been giving us all along.  Whether or not this was anything put into the movie consciously, I still really appreciate this thread and hope other beloved fandoms that aren’t as diverse as they could be take a page from Rogue One’s book, making amends for stories they’ve left untold.