Dastardly Disney once more ruined my childhood. Solo: A Star Wars Story is another pernicious progressive propaganda cash grab. I could barely watch the malicious movie, as my beloved Hand Solo is no longer properly portrayed by the rugged rascal stud Indiana Jones but instead by some babyfaced miserable millennial! How dare people call this monstrous mess a Star Wars movie! No Luke Starkiller, no cool lightsaber fights, no Dark Vader, no Je’daii, not even the Schwartz! And the Millennial Falcon looks different!
Nothing that remotely resembles a Star Wars movie can be seen! I don’t see any epic heroes in this movie, just some ghastly gangster movie about a hustler and a prostitute. I did not pay fifteen dollars and two hours of my time to see the Godfather! If I wanted to watch Grand Theft Auto, I would play it at home or see great gag videos on YouTube. The plot is better anyway!
The synopsis is as follows, and I don’t care about spoiler warnings you sensitive snowflakes. A hustler named Hand Solo and a prostitute named Kira escape from their hometown Detroit, but nobody is black. Hand joins the United States Armed Forces, gets kicked out because he can’t be brainwashed, befriends a giant dog named Barf, then joins a pirate gang led by Long John Silver and Angela Davis; all this happens in five fast minutes. The pirate gang boards a train to Siberia in a daring dastardly heist, but they fail to get the kerosene, which you need to make cocaine. Don’t ask me how I know this, CIA! I know you’re watching me through my computer!
Since the pirate gang serves a drug cartel linked to the CIA, this is bad news for Hand and company. The careless crew land at a strip club: cartel headquarters. Long John makes pathetic excuses to John Dryden, his boss, while Hand catches up with Kira. While Hand screwed around with pirates, Kira became a catchy courtesan and sneakily shacked up with Dryden to live a better life. Hand proposes a mission redo, doing a mining heist to get a magic mineral known as quacksium; it sounds like something out of Duck Tales but somehow makes better cocaine. Don’t ask me how it works! I swear I don’t know!
Hand befriends A Pimp Named Landlow and takes him with Barf, Kira, and Long John through a perilous passage to some country in Africa where you get blood diamonds. Hand gets the quacksium, and the gang rushingly rush back to headquarters to deliver the goods. Lots of irritating intrigue happens at this point, full of reversals, double reversals, triple reversals, and quadruple subversions. Long story short to save you any tedious time trouble: Hand kills Long John by shooting first and Kira kills her pimp Dryden by taking advantage of man’s greatest weakness: woman. Kira becomes the new crime boss, and now must answer directly to the director of the CIA. Hand and Barf catch up with A Pimp Named Landlow to beat him at poker.
I would give this tragic travesty of a fallacious film a one out of ten. It looks nothing like the Star Wars I love while trying to be Grand Theft Auto, the Godfather, Blood Diamond, Eight Mile, and that one CIA movie starring Tom Cruise. By the Schwartz, the movie even has a freakishly feminist robot who lectures me about oppression! I don’t know what to make of this mess! My brain, my sharp sapience, my central flawless faculty for reason and rational discourse, is melting as I speak! That haggard harpy, Kathleen Kennedy, ruined by precious childhood so much she will send me into a ravenous rage! I will write a scathing review at Rotten Tomatoes at once!
– Darius Reilly the Nerd Rage Ranter