To avoid the risk of an argument on the order of one of those nasty, no-holds-barred smackdowns between Han and Princess Leia, I feel a need to explain in some detail (hopefully not too much) why I disliked this movie so very much.
So here it goes. Every reason I hated "Solo" with a passion (except for the Donald Glover-as-Lando scenes).
This was not the Han Solo I was looking for
OK, we all knew going in this would be a monumental challenge: How a person who didn't resemble in any way the Harrison Ford character we all remembered and loved could pull this off. For me, Alden Ehrenreich's performance crashed and burned in ways that went far deeper than looks. Nothing about his portrayal in this movie called to mind for me the depth, contradictions and complexities of Harrison Ford's Solo.
Or to put it more simply, there was simply no swagger. Swagger, more than any other noun I can think of, defined the real Han Solo. And within that swagger lay the cynicism, bravery, self-centeredness, wit and, ultimately, heart that made Solo unforgettably endearing. Ehrenreich's Solo seems to spend the movie trying to convince us he's a tough guy. Ford's Solo didn't need to do any convincing; for one thing, he didn't care what you thought to begin with.
The movie tries to give us glimpses of all the qualities that defined the real Han Solo, but it's always forced and superficial. Yeah, Ehrenreich's Solo is cocky, but not in the aloof, self-assured, sardonic way Harrison Ford was. He looks out only for himself, except when he's puppy-dog love sick for his old girlfriend back on Corellia. He has a knack for getting himself in and out of jams, but not with the comical farce and unflappable charm that always seemed to accompany's Ford's adventures (or misadventures).
Worse of all, Ehrenreich's Solo conveys an innocence and a naivete that reminded me much more of Luke Skywalker from the original films than the original Han. It was actually Donald Glover's Lando who brought the swagger and charm to this movie that made me think of the Han Solo I so loved.
Where was the "wonderful girl"?
Let's face it, much of what made Harrison Ford's Han Solo so amusing and appealing was the interplay with the only woman in the galaxy able to fluster him at every turn. The beauty of Han and Leia's relationship, the way in which each character elevated the other throughout the series, could be summed up in Han's memorable line from the original film: "Wonderful girl! Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her."
A Han Solo love story simply doesn't work without the type of sexual tension and inherent conflict that defined his relationship with Leia. Nothing in Han Solo's life is simple or straightforward, least of all coming to terms with his feelings for a member of the opposite sex.
Han's relationship with Qi'ra is simple and boring, much closer to the sappy Padme-Anakin romance than the Han-Leia fireworks. It follows a typical action-hero movie romance formula that never goes very far. He loves her, but then fate splits them up. All he wants to do is find her again, but when he does, things have changed. The movie never fully delves into how and why and what it all means. Because by that time we have to make it through the Kessel Run.
I'm not saying the writers of "Solo" had to recreate a Leia-like relationship complete with "nerf-herder" and "Your Worship" barbs, but there needed to be more complexity and conflict in their relationship from the beginning (or maybe he should have just been left as a freewheeling bachelor). When the movie opens, these are basically just two kids going steady before interstellar fate sends them on different paths. The Han-and-Leia relationship always complemented and furthered the larger story; in this movie, the relationship is just window dressing to take up screen time between battle scenes.
When it comes to Star Wars plots, keep it simple!
In my opinion, there's a basic choice when writing a Star Wars movie script: Keep the plot lines simple and go deep with character development, or get lost in the weeds with the plot and make the characters superficial. The movies work best when they stick to the simple plot-deep character formula (as in the original trilogy and Episodes VII and VIII) and fall apart when they go the other way, as in the dreaded prequels and "Solo."
This movie simply gets lost in the convoluted "Crimson Dawn" crime syndicate story line. I never connected with any of the characters, in part because I was too busy trying to keep straight who was who. When you have to spend all your time connecting the dots on the plot, there's no time to flesh out the characters, who have always been at the heart of the Star Wars movies. That was the disaster of the prequels when we were constantly trying to figure out what was happening with trade federations, clone armies and intergalactic tax law.
Star Wars is not an action movie series; it's a mythology series
This may be the most basic reason the movie disappointed me so greatly. It comes down to expectations, and what I expect from these movies may be fundamentally different from what others expect.
At its heart, Star Wars is a mythology, and the movies work only as well as the mythological elements they capture in their characters. To one extent or another, the movies are all a takeoff of the classic "Hero's Journey" motif that goes back to Greek mythology and Biblical stories. Their allure, for me at least, is not so much in their space battles, but rather the inner, spiritual battles they bring out in their characters. In that sense, Star Wars has always been much closer to the Lord of the Rings series than Star Trek or the Marvel superhero movies, none of which have ever held much appeal to me beyond being popcorn movies that you can enjoy much more at age 17 than at 47.
"Solo" struck me more as a "Captain America" or "Thor" type spin-off than a real Star Wars movie that plumbs the depths of the mystical forces and struggles at play in that galaxy far, far away. Perhaps that was too much to expect in a spin-off movie about a loner and rogue who didn't believe in "hokey" religions to begin with. But the previous Star Wars spin-off, "Rogue One," pulled it off brilliantly.
Finally, I always saw Han Solo as Star Wars' version of Casablanca's Rick Blaine, the reluctant hero always trying to convince himself of things he didn't really believe. In Casablanca (which I watched again last week), we see the arc of Rick's of journey from cynicism and self-pity to sacrifice, and finally idealism. But, as was the case with Han in the original Star Wars movies, we never got to fully see what made Rick tick to begin with. My guess is that a Casablanca prequel would have explored Rick's early flirtation with idealism and the inner turmoil that ultimately led him to become the disgruntled, cynical loner we find in the classic movie. "Solo" could have aimed for the same.
But by the time Han makes the fateful decision to pick self-interest over idealism at the end of "Solo," I really have no idea why he chooses that path, other than the fact he lost his girlfriend. At least when Rick loses his girl, you can feel his anguish in the pained expression on his face and his slurred mutterances while nursing a bottle of booze. Han just seems to move on.
Instead of telling us what made our favorite space pirate tick, the movie took the easy way out: Telling us how he made the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs. I would have preferred to peer into his soul instead.
But by the time Han makes the fateful decision to pick self-interest over idealism at the end of "Solo," I really have no idea why he chooses that path, other than the fact he lost his girlfriend. At least when Rick loses his girl, you can feel his anguish in the pained expression on his face and his slurred mutterances while nursing a bottle of booze. Han just seems to move on.
Instead of telling us what made our favorite space pirate tick, the movie took the easy way out: Telling us how he made the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs. I would have preferred to peer into his soul instead.
