The first time I watched Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, it was as a casual moviegoer along for the ride. I sat there just soaking in the action and cast chemistry and left little space for thinking about theme or cinematography. Four years and one video essay later, I’ve come to realise how relevant the movie really is to our times. Rogue One is a surprisingly apt companion piece to the events of 2020 – far more than being a simple popcorn flick, this film invites us to seriously engage with the idea that we can and should make the world a better place.

Rogue One features a colourful cast of misfits drawn from all over the galaxy, from reprogrammed Imperial droids to ambiguously Force-sensitive monks. That’s part of the charm – rather than following a dynasty of destiny-empowered Skywalkers, we follow ordinary people who have all gotten caught up in the fight for a higher cause, for one reason or another. Rebel Intelligence officer Cassian Andor was practically born into the Rebellion, having been in the fight since he was “six years old”, while Bodhi Rook was just another Imperial cargo pilot before he defected with information that could save the Rebellion. Rather than lightsabres and the Force, these people fight with whatever they can get their hands on: stolen Imperial ships, a skeleton fleet of fighters and a healthy dash of hope. As a result, we get invested in the conflict not because of the grand overarching narrative, but because of the characters that fight to make it happen. This is a story not of Empires and Rebellions, but of Jyn, Cassian and co. and how they interact with those larger forces. I’m reminded of Kate’s session on falling in love with the dead – reading through histories and learning of the stories of those who have gone before. While fiction isn’t quite the same, I think shifting the focus from the main narrative evokes this feeling in a way that the Skywalkers never could, pushing the urgency and necessity of rebellion to new heights.

Because ultimately, Rogue One is a story about civil disobedience against a deeply uncompromising ruling power – it is about the need to resist political apathy and fight injustice wherever it is within our power. Jyn is apathetic at the outset – when asked by her mentor if she could stand to see the Imperial flag fly over the galaxy, she simply says “it’s not a problem if you don’t look up”. For many people, however, not looking up just isn’t an option. Entire planets are exploited for their natural resources and civilians are forced to work on weapons of mass destruction to oppress the masses – choosing to stay neutral here only benefits the oppressor. There are some very strong parallels to be made here to the events of 2020; in a year where the worst of humanity is coming on display, it is more important than ever to be vigilant and willing to help others in need. Jyn coming to realize this is made that much more potent by the connection we form with her and her friends, and their (spoilers!) sacrifice is so much more poignant for it. When K-2SO’s lights blink out, and Cassian and Jyn embrace as the end comes, we know that they were the entire reason the original trilogy even happened, and we will never forget their sacrifice.

I’ve been flip-flopping a lot on the idea of meaning in conflict. Sometimes I see it mostly as a manifestation of the absurdity of life – if anything, the atrocity of war just shows how meaningless life really is. However, Rogue One shows that it at least isn’t always this simple, and there is a world out there that is worth fighting for. As long as there is injustice, we have a duty to pay attention to it and hold those responsible to account.

Extra stuff:

If you haven’t watched Rogue One, go check it out! It’s probably on Disney+.

Ladyknightthebrave, A Flawed Masterpiece – A Rogue One Video Essay

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOyD0zHQFsU

Image credits:

Featured image from https://ascmag.com/articles/doug-chiang-on-rogue-ones-production-design-part-1

AT-ACT Walker from https://www.starwars.com/databank/at-act-walker