S7a7 Wa7s VII: The New School Zero Review

HEY HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW STAR WARS MOVIE YET?

No?

Why not? Oh, wait, did I arrive BEFORE it’s been released? OH GOOD! I can point and laugh at you.

Since I have the advantage of being FROM THE FUTURE and also having FUTURE WIKIPEDIA on my FUTURE SMART PHONE, let me give you a little history:

Back when he was a young douchebag and trying to adapt the teachings of Tucker Max on the entertainment industry, J.J. Abrams saw a film that would change his life. It was set in space, with fantastic alien races, thrilling space battles, a mysterious mystical magical… magic power, a black-clad villain, and too many classic scenes to count. There came a scene that so moved him, so inspired him, that his entire course of existence was changed forever. Yes, when the shrunken and wise Yogurt spoke the words “Spaceballs 2: The Search For More Money”, J.J. Abrams saw his future laid out before him.

And so it came to pass that Abrams, who does not understand the concept of satire, created cynical repackagings of weaponized nostalgia in order to search for more money. Known to hit it and quit it any time he went balls deep into any beloved franchise, he found the ultimate way to fill the empty hole where his identity should be with money, namely pairing with Disney to fistfuck George Lucas out of the picture and take over the one franchise that combines the rabid suckerdom of religion with the desperate search for connection of D&D IRC channels—Star Wars.

Make no mistake—that Disney came into the picture was essential. No property has more Wallet Persuasion Per Square Inch, save casinos, than Disneyland. They’ve stolen your credit card number and you don’t even know it yet. In two years they’ll release a limited-edition light-up lightsaber Jedi statue that you will, literally, kill two of your elderly relatives just to bid on but not get it, and then you will go to their Star Wars theme park and pledge a blood oath to The Force, only to realize you are now a Scientologist of an even more gullible kind.

BUT! You didn’t come here to insulted—that’s just a side benefit—you came here for a review! This is not a film that can just be reviewed from some neutral viewpoint however—indeed, most of the reviews you will read have been bought and paid for for months—they must be tailored to the type of fan you are:

I’M A DIEHARD STAR WARS FAN AND HAVE HAD A STAR WARS BONER EVER SINCE THE FIRST HINT OF THIS MOVIE, SO AM I GOING TO LOVE IT OR LOVE LOVE IT OR FUCKING LOVE THE FUCK OUT OF IT?

Of course you’re going to love it. Shit, based on this site, you’re a football fan, which means you have a Ph.D. in rationalizing awful things in the name of entertaining yourself. Hell, some of you even live in St. Louis and STILL somehow watch football, so naturally you’re going to bite HARD on this hook being trawled out for you. Yes, this movie is going to directly inject your scifi drug of choice in every way you could hope and dream it would, and you will stumble out of the theater, fall to your knees, come in your pants, and should Big Brother choose that moment to obliterate your medulla oblongata with a cattle gun, you will perish in the throes of utter bliss, unaware of the horrible future that individuals such as myself will face. The next two movies will flood your dopamine receptors just the same, and no argument will change your mind, and you will someday look back at the credit card debts and wasted basement space and understand the Taoist principle that having everything is the same as having nothing.

I LOVED THE ORIGINAL (UNADULTERATED) TRILOGY BUT GOT SERIOUSLY BURNED BY THE PREQUELS AND WANT TO HATE FUCK GEORGE LUCAS’ MOUTH WITH JAKE LLOYD’S SEVERED HEAD, AM I GOING TO LIKE THIS MOVIE AT ALL?

The music’s going to get you, right in that place in your heart it filled when you listened to The Empire Strikes Back soundtrack on your discman over and over and over again. You’ll find a few scenes to be great, but then the joy will erode as you leave and you’ll find yourself nitpicking every little detail, making apt comparisons to Prometheus, and generally alienating yourself from every friend of yours who is like “Eh, it was fun! What’s the big deal?” until you find yourself relegated to making masturbatory snarky arguments on Gawker verticals with your #GamerGate pals and you never get laid again.

I COULDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE HISTORY I JUST WANT A FUN MOVIE, IS THIS A FUCKING FUN MOVIE YOU PENCIL NECKED GEEK?

Yeah, it’s a fun movie. It’ll be EVEN BETTER if you go in having a.) pre-gamed with lots of Patron shots, b.) Had a couple extra edibles, or c.) both. In fact, why don’t you sneak a couple of Junior Mints up your ass during the film just to see if you can waft the scent of Thin Mints towards your fellow movie goers?

MY NAME IS MAKE IT SNOW AND I’M A TWITTER CELEBRITY NOW AND TOO COOL AND SMART AND FUNNY AND I HAVE ALL THESE BEERS THAT YOU CAN’T GET TO BECAUSE MY BETTER HALF IS VICIOUS TOWARDS REFUGEES FROM THE FUTURE AND IS LITERALLY FORMER PRESIDENT TRUMP.

This brings me to my overall review: This movie is fucking great because I know where every one of you is going to be during it, and I will clean out your refrigerators of the excellent winter beers they hold, your liquor cabinets of the best year end editions, your stashes of the best legal weed out there today, and your medicine cabinets of all your holiday opiates. Given that metric, it is most definitely the best Star Wars movie ever.