The Unicorn Scale — Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Greetings, Unicorns and rebel scum alike! Nope, I’m not playing any Jedi mind tricks on you — I’m visiting a galaxy far, far away again in this column. Yes, my read of Lando as queer kicked up some celestial space dust in the more heteronormative, fanboy-ridden parts of social media. But you know what? I am 100% okay with that. I’ve listened to fan theories on Star Wars lore since I can remember. Two out of three of my siblings are huge fans. And I grew up to have terribly nerdy tastes. I’m not afraid to throw my hat into the cantina about my queer theories. So why am I bringing up this saga again? Well, read on.

But before we get into the particulars, I should go over a few disclaimers. First and foremost: if you haven’t watched Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker yet, this review is gonna be riddled with spoilers. (I’m gonna also pull some points from Force Awakens and Last Jedi as well, so hopefully everyone has binged on Disney+ and caught up.) Oh, and if you need a reminder on what the Unicorn Scale is all about, you can read up on the metric here.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (heretofore referred to as TROS) is the ninth, final chapter of the Skywalker saga. We return to the story to discover what the dwindling members of the Resistance — particularly former scavenger Rey (Daisy Ridley), defector from the fascistic First Order Finn (John Boyega), and charismatic flyboy Poe (Oscar Isaac) — need to do to save their galaxy from the surprising return of Emperor Palpatine. 

What I Liked: 

Something that was sorely missing from previous Star Wars installations was diversity in roles and casting; that’s something that gets rectified by focusing on a woman and two men of color as our main heroes. Representation matters, and the next generation of non-white, male fans will grow up seeing themselves represented on the big screen in leading roles as fact, and not speculative fiction. Even more delicious to see people of color in male bi roles, which is still a rarity to see these days. That’s huge.

I also appreciated the fact we got huge snatches of story with Poe and Finn together, which shows where their relationship is and builds off what was established in The Force Awakens (heretofore referred to as TFA) and The Last Jedi (heretofore referred to as TLJ).

First, let’s look at Finn’s journey up until now. While the screenplay of TFA makes it crystal-clear Finn is sniffing around Rey (asking if she has a boyfriend), in TROS he wants to confess something to her (his love, we assume?) as they are descending into the Sinking Fields. Finn’s overtures go beyond friendly caring for the pretty scavenger, and I’d argue we see that type of emotional investment in his first interactions with Poe in TFA as well. (Remember: Poe actually came up with Finn’s name. That kind of bond will stick with you.) The shoulder pats and prolonged eye contact between Finn and Poe in TFA sent the queer theorists afire — myself included.

Now let’s get a load of that swashbuckling fighter pilot, Poe Dameron. Again, we had absurd levels of chemistry between this renegade and Finn during TFA. For God’s sake, there’s even a scene when Poe looks at Finn’s lips and bites his own lower lip. Now, there is a playful undercurrent to how his character is written, but Poe seems to enjoy a chance to flirt whenever he can. I was even thinking with his first interaction with Rey at the end of TLJ seemed like a classic set-up for a hetero romance storyline, which seemed to extend into their first scene together in Rise of Skywalker with a Sam-and-Diane sexual dynamic. And just in case we weren’t sure if Poe was into the ladies, we get the spicy former smuggler Zorii (Keri Russell) thrown into the TROS mix as another romantic interest for Poe; he asks for a kiss from her multiple times throughout the narrative.

But honestly, the key thing that cements my queer reading of these two men is their interactions after Poe’s near-confession at the Sinking Fields. Poe just won’t. let it. go. He keeps badgering Finn to tell him what he was desperate to tell Rey, even when they are facing down a firing squad and imminent death. That cross-examination doesn’t have idle curiosity written all over it when they’re facing their last breath; that’s jealousy, and a nasty streak of it, at that.

I’m not just seeing what I wanna see, either. This isn’t me whiling away the hours by focusing a queer revisionist lens on a beloved franchise just to piss people off. For one, I’m not the only person in the press outlets to see this dynamic — and get pissed they didn’t call a spade a spade. To whit, even the cast, Oscar Isaac in particular, voiced his frustrations in being able to play the queerness angle but still not seeing the story just let Poe and Finn be boyfriends. (Honestly, it reminded me of Paul Newman’s take on Brick in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof (1958).)

Speaking of which... 

What I Didn't Like:

HHHHRRRRNNNNGHHHHH!

That’s Wookie for SIGH.

Let queer boys be queer, Disney overlords!

As the Mary Sue article pointed out, it would have been a stronger storyline choice for both Finn and Poe if the creative higher-ups had simply let the two men be in love. It would have raised the stakes considerably throughout both of their emotional through-lines. And it would have been something new to add to this franchise. A massive chunk of the fan demographic are already down with it.

So why straight-wash them and try to pass them off as just really, really, super-good friends and war brothers? Well, virtue signaling, and money, of course; they needed to make sure they made money back in markets where homosexuality is not embraced. I shouldn’t have expected much, considering that a quick same-sex kiss during the finale is getting cut out of the film in markets like Singapore. 

It just gets frustrating out here sometimes, folks. Sci-fi and speculative fiction are genres where we can let our imaginations fly beyond the typical conceits of our own world. So to have a cultural tastemaker like Lucasfilms take months to create puppets in scummy cantinas the camera spots for a second, but we’re supposed to believe the only romances in these far celestial reaches are straight? Really?! 

We can accept images of creatures twenty feet high with twelve mouths, but refuse anything other than one form of attraction between just two genders? It just goes to show that the only limits we have are the ones we put on ourselves. We can create twenty languages as well as dozens of names for a flick, but no one can use the word “bi” in a galaxy far, far away. It’s a pity, since Lucas & Co. historically love to fill the cinematic canvas to Bosch levels of density, but apparently there’s no room on this silver screen to be queer.

I should note, however, that I don’t necessarily see the queer dynamic between Poe and Finn as entirely healthy, either. The streak of jealousy shows loads of insecurity on Poe’s behalf — that’s rich, considering the flyboy tends to flirt wherever he goes without checking in with his “best friend”. I can only hope this is something the two characters talked through together after the climax in a quiet moment off-screen.

The Rating:

So, yeah. That about covers it, fam. Poe and Finn’s relationship is about as close as we’re gonna get to a recognized, queer love story (masquerading as a bromance) in the nine-film saga. We could have had it all. The evidence is there; to me it’s as clear as a Tattooine day with its twin sun system that Finn and Poe are bi (not perfect representations, but queer nonetheless).

Don’t agree? That’s fine. There’s plenty of room for disagreement in this universe on these beloved stories. Hell, debates are basically what fuels the fandom, anyway — other than new entries into the franchise, of course.

But, hey: At least we can all agree on one thing:

Han shot first.