The fog of Star Wars: Why Rogue One is the most realistic (and perhaps greatest) of them all

Disney's resurrection of the Star Wars franchise that so many of us fell in love with as children, and grew disillusioned with during George Lucas' forgettable prequels, has been astonishing. Last year's "The Force Awakens" was a triumph, and this year's standalone spinoff, "Rogue One" is, in my opinion, maybe the greatest movie in the franchise's history. That's because it's the most realistic in capturing the moral complexity, dark reality and often-conflicting judgments of warfare, something Robert McNamara, the architect of America's regrettable foray into Vietnam, famously referred to as the "fog of war."

One thing that marked the original Star Wars movie in 1977, and probably explained its unprecedented popularity, was the simplicity, and inspirational quality, of the basic battle between good and evil it captured. It was crystal clear to everyone who watched the movie that the Luke Skywalker- and Princess Leia-led rebels were good and noble and morally justified in all their actions to overthrow the oppressive, evil Empire. There was no questioning their tactics or the wisdom of their decisions. It was a refreshing journey into fantasy in the wake of the Vietnam War, a supposedly similar conflict between good and evil that quickly became mired in myriad complications and questions about not only whether the United States was wise but right in its actions. What had seemed to many a noble Cold War enterprise quickly became lost in McNamara's fog of war.

In "Rogue One," which sets the stage for the original "Star Wars: A New Hope", it is again clear that the Empire is fundamentally evil and that a group of brave Rebels is trying to do something about it. But where things change, and where the movie, in the view of the 45-year-old writing this blog rather than the 6-year-old who was mesmerized by the original film, truly achieves new depth and greatness is where it gets into the messy details of fighting that war.

Far from the resolute and decisive, if undermanned, force we see in the original film, the fledgling rebels of "Rogue One" are disjointed, splintered and confused. They spend about as much time arguing among themselves as plotting to overthrow the Empire. Much of the time, they have no idea who are their friends or their enemies. At first, they plot to assassinate the man who holds the key to destroying the vaunted Death Star, and who actually wants to help them. One radical rebel leader decides to torture a defector from the Empire who has vital information to share. When things start to fall apart, they seem on the verge of throwing in the towel and running for the stars, until the daughter of the man they wanted to assassinate, and inadvertently kill anyway, comes up with a better idea that they initially reject, forcing her and her newfound friends to go "rogue." It's fitting that one of the few characters who seems to clearly see through the fog is a blind monk-like figure who combines martial arts skills and his devotion to The Force to devastating effect.

It's a movie that captures how wars are typically fought: messy, confusing, beset by morally questionable decisions, in which a lot of innocent people die, either collaterally or intentionally, no matter which side you're on. And yes, as in the case of World War II, sometimes they are necessary to preserve freedom and liberty, but that doesn't eliminate the moral complications of firebombing civilian populations in Tokyo or Dresden, dropping an atomic bomb or two, or partnering with a ruthless Russian murderer (not Putin but Stalin) and trying to humanize him with the moniker "Uncle Joe."

For those of us Star Wars nerds, the paradox of Star Wars has always been clear. While these are movies about wars in space, their point is never to glorify war or the forces that lead to such death and destruction (as Yoda put it so well, "Wars not make one great.") The mystical Force that binds the galaxy together is fundamentally a force for peace. But when it's manipulated by evil, then violence, death and destruction ensue. That has always been the overarching message.

The brilliance of "Rogue One" is that it adds a totally new dimension to that message. The original trilogy was more about the internal struggles of the individual characters than it was about the galactic civil war. The prequels tried to wrap themselves in political intrigue but got lost in bureaucratic minutiae (and terrible storytelling). "The Force Awakens" brilliantly pushed the original family drama forward in a whole new direction but ultimately left us with more questions than answers.

"Rogue One" is the first Star Wars movie that is truly a war movie. It's about noble intentions compromised by misguided decisions; moral righteousness colliding with military expediency; determination clouded by confusion; and heroism that ultimately leads to self-sacrifice and newfound hope. And it teaches us in a way that none of the other seven movies ever did that, no matter what the galaxy, war is a terrible, terrible thing.