‘The Last Jedi’ On Netflix: Why That Bomb Ship Scene Is So Extraordinary

Star Wars: The Last Jedi is a film that inspires debate. In just the six months since the film first hit theaters in December and its debut on Netflix yesterday, I have seen it heralded as one of the best Star Wars films ever, the worst one yet, and the best depiction of Luke Skywalker on screen. It’s come under fire for its diversity and for its obsession with suicidal sacrifices. It’s been lauded for its refusal to bend to fandom’s demands and for its bold reappraisal of the Star Wars canon. As for me? I like the film a lot, but I can concede that it has some flaws. Nevertheless, Star Wars: The Last Jedi has one of my all-time favorite sequences in cinematic history.

Yes, I still think about one scene in particular, and it has nothing to do with lightsabers or space casinos or aliens being milked. It’s been six months since I’ve first seen it, and I’m still in awe of what I call “the bomb ship scene.” It’s a three-minute sequence tucked in the middle of the film’s opening battle, and it still takes my breath away.

It’s the moment where Paige Tico (Veronica Ngo) finds herself in the unlikely position of hero. All the other bombers are down. She is the only person capable of taking a dreadnought down. She’s got the weight of the Resistance on her shoulders in the same moment that she is staving off her own inevitable death. The scene seems to be about the power of sacrifice, but really, it’s about the power of an ordinary person doing their best to get their job done.

It’s also perhaps the first moment in the film that is defiantly director Rian Johnson‘s point-of-view. Everything else up until then is a brisk, if not also witty, homage to the classic battle scenes of the Original Trilogy. Here, Johnson brings his perspective to the franchise by literally offering a new perspective on the traditional Star Wars space battle sequence. In films’ past, we’ve watched our wise-cracking hero zip through enemy fire with nary a scratch, or we’ve seen a supporting player get hit and plummet (or just explode) to their death. This creates a comfortable distance for the viewer to watch the carnage. We know our heroes are safe, and everyone else is, well, just everyone else. (Rogue One: A Star Wars Story is a noteworthy exception to this, but even then, the space battles that raged were populated primarily by ion cannon fodder.)

But Johnson blows up this comfortable distance. He spends three minutes on Paige Tico’s story. He introduces her in a way that immediately breaks down the separation between random fighter and real person: she takes off her helmet, exposing her mouth and her wide, frightened eyes to the camera. The shot lingers on her expression. In fact, actress Veronica Ngo’s expressive eyes get far more to say than Paige Tico does. Johnson uses close ups on Ngo’s eyes to bring us inside the Resistance foot soldier’s head. Perhaps no moment is this trick more powerful than when Paige opens her eyes after falling in the bomber ship and sees a tower of charged explosives wobbling above her head, tinkling together like wind chimes on a sunny spring day.

The power of the scene is thanks to a joint effort. Johnson had the idea, obviously, to bring us up close and inside the desperate mind of a doomed Resistance fighter, but this mesmerizing sequence took help from the sound editors, foley artists, visual effects artists, film editor, and most of all, Ngo herself. Together, sound, shot, performance, and Johnson’s direction come together to tell an almost wordless story. It’s visual filmmaking at its finest — with camera movements, quick edits, longer-held shots, and an expressive actress’s performance telling a story that is as devastating with or without sound. (But again, the sound mix helps!)

But what is this sequence about? I know some people have pointed to it (as well as a few other personal sacrifices in the film) as a glorification of the suicide attack. I don’t think it’s that. Paige’s act helps the Resistance, but not nearly enough. It’s one person’s noble action, but it doesn’t win a war. To me, personally, this was neither a glorification nor a condemnation of the immense sacrifice that war calls for. It was simply a human portrait of it. In a move about mystical savior knights with laser swords and giant space stations that can blow up worlds, the little guy stuck in the heart of the battle can get lost in the action. And yet, it’s the fate of all those little guys that’s actually in question.

If anything, Paige’s story is one of inspiration. But her actions on the battlefield aren’t what she’s remembered for. Instead, she’s remembered for her loving spirit. Her sister Rose clings to Paige’s memory in the film, and it’s that flame of love that inspires Rose to say the most gorgeous line of dialogue in Star Wars: The Last Jedi: “That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate…saving what we love.”

Rose says this after she saves Finn from making a similar suicidal sacrifice. It’s a moment that reframes what heroism in a war really means. Star Wars: The Last Jedi starts from a place of needless personal sacrifice, epitomized by Paige’s daring actions that ultimately don’t make a huge difference in the state of the war, and it ends with friends recouping what they can and declaring that they don’t need a single savior to win the war ahead. What they need is each other.

Where to Stream Star Wars: The Last Jedi