At this point, it’s hard not to know that Rebel Moon derives from a rejected Star Wars movie pitch from Zack Snyder. Never one shy of creating his own ‘verse, the idea now exists as a standalone thing, produced by Netflix. In a way, it’s Zack Snyder at his most Zack Snyder (i.e: if you like his films, stop reading this review and watch it, you’ll like it): a work of overbearing, smothering auteurism colour graded into homogeneity in which a full half of the film is in slow motion. Yet, it lacks some of the more objectionable elements of some of his cinema (some), less interested in objectivist posturing (though still with individualist undercurrents hidden behind a collectivist façade) and general objectification — but only because it is far too focused on giving you something you’ve seen before.
Admittedly, grand space operas are rare. The kind of budget needed to pull them off makes them unviable outside of major franchises — and even some of those major franchises have seen diminishing returns. The Snyder name pulls an audience and, love him or hate him, he’s always going to clearly put the money on the screen. There’s a, perhaps bland, proficiency in which you are going to watch something evidently expensive and, if you have qualms with the the aesthetic, they will be artistic more than technical. It looks fine. Some striking visual ideas but Snyder continues to not be very proficient with, to be honest, moving images. It’s easy to share Snyder stills and to think his movies look good but, in motion, they are a bit sloppy. The visual language isn’t seamless and this initial version (there’s a Snyder Cut coming) does feel disjointed — especially when every action scene cuts away on impact (to retain a PG-13 rating). A shame as this is primarily an action movie in which the action is certainly very slow (the slowest of mos) but not actually very good. It feels built to exist as desktop wallpapers and underwhelms as actually compelling, choregraphed action.
It is tempting to rule out the movie on premise alone. The story, in this first part, is as such: a farming community on a moon called Veldt are visited by imperial soldiers who, to cut a long story short, force them to give over all their produce (seemingly in perpetuity). An outspoken member of the community, Kora, played (sadly not very well) by Sofia Boutella teams up with another resident, Gunnar, played (sadly not very well) by Michiel Huisman; they embark on a journey to recruit some strong champions to help the community fight back. That’s right, it’s Seven Samurai (1954), or half of it (Three and a Half Samurai). But lots of films have been Seven Samurai; it’s one of those great plot structures that applies well to different scenarios, giving you a solid foundation to build an impressive movie on. It also works as a Star Wars pitch, a kind of poetic resonance (Lucas always liked things that ‘rhymed’) that goes back to Star Wars (1977) being a take on another Akira Kurosawa directed samurai movie, The Hidden Fortress (1958).
It’s a clean fit for Star Wars, a lean story in a pre-established world that could facilitate the kind of clashes you want. Divorced from this context, Snyder has a lot of work to do to differentiate — and to justify. Alas, the whole film is so evidently skewed Star Wars (just a letter to the side like how in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), IBM becomes HAL). Though, as we start on fake Tatooine, it’s perhaps a relief that we are not watching yet another Tatooine adventure. Though, I could see how this would work as a Star Wars film, even if it certainly would be a playing the hits. Fake Tatooine includes fake Mos Eisley, we obviously meet the fake Empire and we also hop around some fake Outer Rim planets. Everything has such an obvious analogue that the film starts to over justify itself. The lean and promising structure is bogged down by the most stodgy overabundance of lore lore lore. Every third line is an extended explanation of how this isn’t Star Wars and actually the world is this way.
It is perhaps unfair to review the film via Star Wars (1977), but as it invokes comparison even through the Kurosawa homage, that film does serve as a smart illustration of how to build a world, and how this fails. Perspective is a thing Star Wars nails, placing you with characters so that you can learn what you need to learn of the world alongside them. Outsider perspectives to a wider conflict that they find themselves drawn into is a tried and tested approach; here, Snyder’s impulse is to have characters as legacy insiders. Kora has an imperial past and now we must know all about it. And we can’t just allude to it, we need extended flashbacks. It genuinely feels like if somebody recut Star Wars to include scenes from the prequels every time a thing related to them happened. Imagine if that throwaway reference to the Clone Wars, an interesting line because it is just taken as an in universe detail that doesn’t need explaining, was followed up with a ten minute sequence of a key battle in the Clone Wars involving Obi Wan Kenobi. Rather than making a science fiction epic, Snyder feels like he’s taken the video game route and shoved in a Mass Effect (2007) style codex or a Destiny (2014) style Grimoire. All must explained. Lore lore lore.
The #NotStarWars of it all is really what sinks it. As mentioned, all is a clear analogue and shifted to the point of being often unappealing or silly. For example, the #NotEmpire, still Nazi coded (and even more so), actually come across as M. Bison from Street Fighter meets Peaky Blinders (2013-2022) — it’s the haircuts. It’s also #NotStarWars because it’s… Edgy. Right at the start, after Anthony Hopkins lore dumps for a bit (which, to be fair, Star Wars always did but the text on screen felt less invasive and more theatrical prologue than ‘listen, this is the world’), sex is mentioned. Then the movie is remarkably sexless. A differentiating point that feels out of place even in its own film. It being a Zack Snyder film, we also have some sexualised threat at points, to make it edgy and ‘mature’, which is just tiresome and unnecessary. One of many affectations that exist for the sake of it.
But there is promise in the film. It’s not completely joyless (just a bit dull) and has some moments. I would dare say it’s Snyder’s best. But still not good. The opening is actually very compelling, the #NotEmpire revealing their evil as they invade the farming community. None of it is well written but the stand-off is decent. The leader of the community tries to be polite but is refusing to acquiesce, while another senior member tries to propose a middle ground. These being space fascists, that middle ground was never possible and it is revealed the only thing they want is everything, and they will take it. The best scene of the film is the farmers lying to themselves, convincing themselves they’ll be fine. They propose the point that they have what the #NotEmpire need, a pseudo Marxist logic of the real power lying in skilled labour and that actually the #NotEmpire are reliant on them. But, of course, they bring this to a conservative conclusion, thinking their expertise will bring them respect and mercy. It’s a powerful moment of understandable delusion, those who should have power made powerless through colonial structures, left grabbing onto any desperate branch of hope.
It is a compelling struggle, the people versus the rulers and the dynamics thereof. The film just has no interest in it. This is place setting for the actual film which is a planet hopping journey with a character that is slowly revealed to be a kind of chosen one. Collectivist plight is abandoned for a catch ’em all The Special People edition. Let’s go find the best of the best and bring them back. It works, and there’s a telegraphed but decent enough twist towards the end, but it is far less interesting than the plight of actual people. Character and community is abandoned in favour of myth and archetype and it’s just all been done before (which would be fine if it was done well). At the moment when (and I apologise for referencing the book series that must not be named) some guy is just made to tame a space hippogriff for the sake of it, I almost just stopped watching.
Another issue is the Part One of it all. It is all drawn out setup but not much really happens (until it’s all blandly shooty and explody at the end). The story is lean and it would be better to just get it all done in a constrained runtime. The majority of the film is diversions and padding. The lore cup overflows and drowns the film. Okay, Seven Samurai is a very long movie and the combined length of these two films might be equivalent to that. But Seven Samurai does a lot with its runtime, and really focuses on character and location. It is also admirably focused on its core location. Rebel Moon does nothing with the threatened location apart from code it as an imperilled location. A kind of narrative exploitation of the labouring class, damselising them as opposed to making a film about a place and why that matters. Though the film is broadly anti-fascist, in that the bad guys are fascists, the complete lack of specificity or actual place making cements that this political framing is just framing. It is aesthetic only. It’s all shorthand, easy tropes and the only thing the film is really focused on is making pretty people fight in slow motion. If Star Wars borrows visual ideas from Triumph of the Will (1935), which it does, this film also seems to just want an excuse to engage with fascist iconography and design.
That aside, the real problem here is that it’s just a bloated dullness. It spends too much time explaining itself when it just should let it be. Build a world by having a world, rather than telling you about it. The irony becomes that the world is conveyed to us to the extent of unreality, it doesn’t feel lived in and the characters don’t compel. It is all just ephemera, Wikipedia summaries between poorly framed action. It is perhaps worse that it has it moments, that it has promise. It could work, and maybe Part Two (2024) will. Maybe the Snyder Cut will change it all and bring out the best. What we have now is plodding, flat and brought down both by imitation and attempts at divergence.