Handyman, murderer, and fashion designer Ed Gein looms large in the horror world. A stark raving mad lunatic with a nipple belt and a penchant for digging up the recently deceased? He’s the inspiration for Norman Bates and Leatherface —among others— and somehow comes out scarier than both of them. Truth, I suppose, it’s much scarier than fiction.

Deranged, a 1974 film directed by Jeff Gillen and Allan Ormsby, was an attempt to bring Gein to the big screen, promising to scare viewers like they’d never been scared before. Unfortunately, the only people scared by this movie are those who have never seen a moving picture before. The movie is more dark comedy than horror, more slapstick than terrifying.

That’s not to say the movie is all bad. Roberts Blossom, the Gein stand-in, plays the murderer in a creepy, over-the-top way that’s very unsettling. You almost think he might be a local crazy man they found rather than a professional actor. The former was confirmed years later when he played the creepy neighbor in Home Alone.

What Deranged solidifies for me is that some stories can only be told by competent filmmakers. This movie lays everything out at the beginning: his mother was an overbearing misogynist with an apocalyptic flair, he was an Oedipal son who couldn’t let her go, and the combination of those two things created a killer. There’s no tension leading the viewer along, forcing them to keep watching to find out what happens.

Compare that to Psycho, where the tension strung along for an hour or more before you get any relief. It’s almost like Alfred Hitchcock knows how to make a good movie and isn’t just using shlock to exploit the viewer.

Anyway, watch Deranged at your next bad movie night. It’s funny and oddly compelling, if not scary. The pea soup scene is worth the price of admission.

Pandorum is a 2009 movie by German director Christian Alvert and produced by Paul “Not Thomas” W.S. Anderson. It stars Ben Foster, Dennis Quaid, and some other people (including a glorified cameo by Norman Reedus for some reason).

Ben Foster plays a space guy who wakes up in a ship without any memories except for his (presumably) dead wife. Footage that appears to be taken from a makeup or perfume commercial and really has absolutely no bearing on the rest of the movie, but you always have to have a dead wife.

Dennis Quaid plays Foster’s superior officer and spends most of the movie sitting at a desk yelling into a radio. I’m pretty sure he also has a dead wife from a perfume commercial, but honestly it could have been Ben Foster’s wife. This movie is so poorly shot and edited that I wouldn’t trust my own eyes. Again, the dead wife has no impact on the character or the plot of the movie.

Two characters, two dead wives. For no reason. No reason at all. They’re just a quick and cheap way to get us to sympathize with the characters. I mean, you have to root for Ben Foster because he misses his wife and she inspires him to kill space orcs and save the human race or whatever he was doing.

Except it doesn’t.

When I say the dead wife has no bearing on the film, I mean it. He has some flashbacks about her but the second a real woman shows up he completely forgets about his perfume commercial wife. I guess a soft-lit ghost can’t compare to a flesh and blood woman with clothes ripped at the most strategic places.

So, Pandorum is a bad movie. I understand why someone might rate it higher: it has a very interesting concept, the sets are cool, and there just aren’t very many sci-fi horror movies out there. But, like Ben Foster’s dead wife, we need to forget about it. You can skip this one and just rewatch Event Horizon.

I recently watched the 2025 legacy sequel to I Know What You Did Last Summer, a movie that sort of came and went without much fanfare on account of it not really being good. I don’t want to review the movie because there isn’t anything interesting about it except the whole thing seemed to be written just to make a “men will do anything but go to therapy” joke.1

But I am interested in the idea of bringing back characters from old horror movies and showing the legacy of trauma in their lives. How they managed to live a normal life after being chased in the woods by a madman with an axe and seeing all of your friends disemboweled.

Unfortunately, these legacy sequels never seem to give me what I want. The old characters are trotted out, given five minutes of screentime, and unceremoniously dragged off stage in favor of the new characters and their stories.

The only time I can remember this not happening is in the recent Halloween trilogy.2 Laurie Strode, who had survived events unimaginable, doesn’t get a fairy tale ending; she doesn’t live happily ever after. Instead, she becomes paranoid and isolated, not truly living, just lying in wait for the monster to come back, having destroyed every relationship she ever had.

⚠️WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!⚠️

So, watching the new I Know What You Did Last Summer, I had a glimmer of hope. Freddie Prinze Jr. is a main character and Jennifer Love Hewitt has decent screen time. For the latter, she just kind of talks about PTSD in a university lecture and then makes a joke at the end. She sees her childhood repeating itself and makes a joke about therapy.

Prinze Jr.’s Ray is even more baffling. Here’s a guy who covered up a manslaughter, went through a massacre, went through another massacre, married his high school sweetheart, and divorced her, never to love again (presumably). How has all of that trauma affected him? Well, he owns a bar and then out of nowhere decides to help one of his employees kill a bunch of people because they made the same mistake he made while in high school.

These legacy horror sequels have the opportunity to do something interesting with trauma and instead they waste it making mediocre rehashes of the same movies. Try something new, please.

Netflix recently released a sci-fi action alien invasion movie called War Machine.1 It follows an American soldier suffering from PTSD who runs into an alien war robot while in Ranger training with all sorts of shenanigans ensuing. As far as Netflix original sci-fi movies go, it’s not too bad. There’s a lot of good action shlock, the acting isn’t terribly offensive, and the script has just the right amount of drama to trick you into caring for one-dimensional characters.

All in all, there really isn’t too much going on in the movie that warrants writing about it, except that it’s another brazen example of Hollywood uncritically putting out US military propaganda. You hear a lot about the so-called “woke” agenda2 in the entertainment industry, but you hear a lot less about how the military has cozied up to film and tv in order to shape how the public views the military.

War Machine follows a pattern the US has used for decades: in exchange for access to experts, technology, locations, and money, the producers agree to give the government some control over the story in order to portray the military in a good light. John Wayne’s Green Berets is a classic example of this. It’s said that John Wayne personally wrote President Lyndon Johnson about making a movie on the Vietnam war. The Army gave Wayne uniforms, props, and access to bases in exchange for final script approval. The result was a sickening movie that attributed to Vietnamese soldiers atrocities committed by Americans.

“But it’s just an action movie,” I can hear someone say, “don’t overthink it.” No, it’s not just a movie. Top Gun (and its sequel) were used as military recruiting events, with stations set up in the lobby to get people to sign up.3 The animated Animal Farm movie from the 50s was financed by the CIA and the ending changed in order to change how liberals view communism.

War Machine starts out in Afghanistan, as American soldiers are attacked by “terrorists” and “insurgents”. Being aware of history, I know that after the September 11 attacks, the United States invaded Afghanistan because the Taliban was protecting Osama bin Laden. I don’t think it’s controversial to say the US soldiers were invaders and the “terrorists” were people defending their homeland. Even if we all agree the Taliban was evil, people defending their homes against an overwhelming outside force is a feeling we can all understand.

The movie then follows our main character (honestly, don’t remember his name) as he deals with the death of his brother, his own aging and injured body, and Ranger training. He also has to single-handedly defeat an alien invasion while carrying his injured friend. The alien robot, a weapon of unimaginable power far superior to the training Rangers, is an invader and our hero has to defend his homeland (and the whole human race).

Wait, what? Why is the invader good at the beginning of the movie but now the invader is the bad guy? Why is our hero the good guy and not an insurgent? We don’t see anything from the alien point of view, maybe they were watching our planet and saw one country covering the planet with military bases and constant bombing campaigns and decided to do something?

This is pure propaganda. We are supposed to simply accept the Americans as the good guys, no matter what situation they might find themselves in. Look at how great these Ranger guys are, they can do the right thing against Muslims and aliens. And we’re supposed to just watch it and take it all in. Don’t think, just consume.

I don’t want to go down fighting. I want to win

Salt of the Earth, a 1954 film directed by Herbert J. Biberman, may be the best example of American neorealist cinema. The film, made entirely by blacklisted filmmakers, novices, union members, and community actors, follows a New Mexico zinc mining town that goes on strike to protest the working conditions of the mostly Mexican-American workers. Forced to go back to work by a government injunction, the women of the town begin to picket in their husbands’ stead.

Even from a 2026 perspective, the film is incredibly progressive. It touches on almost every form of inequality and shows how it’s all wrapped up in class struggle. The Anglo workers are treated more fairly than the Hispanic workers, but both are oppressed by capital in their own way. The women of the town are victims not only of capital, but also of their own husbands and culture at large. The police work at the behest of the capitalists and do everything they can to stop the strike.

Salt of the Earth is probably the most realistic film I’ve ever seen. It’s as close to a documentary as you can get. In fact, it was so realistic the government, Hollywood, and even union leaders spent years trying to stop Americans from seeing it.

On this Friday the 13th, I decided to watch a truly terrifying horror: Stanley Kramer’s 1961 Judgement at Nuremberg. Starring Spencer Tracy, Burt Lancaster, Maximillian Schell, Marlene Dietrich, Judy Garland, and Richard Widmark, the film is a fictional account of the Judges’ Trial of 1947. These trials were not a part of the more famous Nuremberg Trials before the International Military Tribunal, rather they were prosecuted solely by the United States against lower-level German officials who legitimized Nazi atrocities.

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On one hand, Judgement at Nuremberg is a courtroom drama, maybe the best courtroom film ever made. You take some of the best actors of the time, give them a wonderfully written script, and ask a lot of hard questions about a war that had only ended fifteen years earlier.

But on the other hand, this is a horror film. It has some of the most disturbing scenes ever put to film, scenes much worse than anything you’ll ever see in a slasher or horror film. The highlight of the whole movie is a presentation by Col. Lawson on the liberation of the concentration camps. It’s worse than any Jason or Freddy movie you’ll ever watch, more terrifying and blood curdling than a 70s giallo film.

But the movie doesn’t stop there. It doesn’t stop at condemning these men for sending people to concentration camps, it indicts the entire Western world for aiding and abetting Hitler and the Nazis. Russia for signing a pact with Germany, Churchill for praising Hitler, and American industrialists for profiting off of the Nazi regime. This is a horror film in which our entire society is blamed, not a single maniac killer.

I don’t think anything in a horror movie can affect me as much as the above scene. Those bodies the dozer is pushing aside represent real people, not fictional ones. Real people whose only crime was the circumstances of their birth, or their brain chemistry, or their faith in the wrong deity. And the horrors don’t end with the scrolling credits; they have been carried through the years and affect us even today.

That is true horror.

Either because I forgot to take my meds or because I’m full of self-loathing, I decided to watch the 2025 slasher movie Clown in a Cornfield. I saw some people on Letterboxd calling it a fun slasher, a return to something we haven’t seen much of since the rise Elevated Horror like Midsommar or Nope. (NB: I disagree with this assessment because we’ve always had fun horror and political horror, sometimes within a single movie. Candyman, anyone?)

But, like, Clown in a Cornfield isn’t a fun slasher. It’s not a good slasher. It doesn’t herald a return to form in the genre because there was nothing to return to. Serious horror might be taking up a bit more room these days, but there are still fun horror movies. And most of them are leaps and bounds above this one trick pony.

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That’s not to say I didn’t like anything about Clown in a Cornfield. Without getting into spoiler territory, the premise of the movie isn’t half bad and the setting is interesting, if a bit derivative. Katie Douglas, the final girl, puts in a very good performance. I really hope she gets better roles, especially in horror. The rest of the cast is pretty good, too, including Kevin Durand inexplicably playing a small-town Elon Musk clone.

The story also plays with the tropes of the genre, especially in regard to sexuality. It subverts the audience’s expectation and throws in a coming-out-of-the-closet subplot. It also does some interesting things with small-town politics and generational conflict.

The problem is that almost everything else is bad. The killer could possibly be scary, at least on paper, but it doesn’t do anything particularly scary. The clown(s) come out of the cornfield, swing around a weapon, and generally act like NPCs in a video game. There’s no feeling of inevitable death because they are easily defeated almost every single time.

The kills are also subpar. There are a few decent kills, like the one with a guy killed by a barbell, but for the most part people just get their throats slashed or stabbed by something. Nothing inventive or creative, just CW-level kills and some blood trickling out. Compare this to the Terrifier movies and it’s like night and day. Say what you want about those movies, but they are creative with their kills.

The thing that got me the most in Clown in a Cornfield, though, is the dialogue. The main character sees a bunch of killer clowns and says, without a semblance of fear, “Holy fucking shit. That’s a lot of Frendos.” Or how about this emotional conversation at the end of the movie:

Cole: Sorry about tonight, Quinn.

Quinn: Oh, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You know, except for the clowns trying to kill us and all. That kind of sucks.

It’s like some 60-year-old man watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and tried to copy the dialogue. Here’s my advice to screenwriters: have young people talk like normal human beings. You know, like older people but younger. They’re not aliens.

I said in this post that a certain amount of incompetence makes a slasher good. You can’t have everybody in the story be level-headed all of the time, sometimes they have to split up or run away in high heels. But this movie kind of weaponizes that incompetence against the teenagers for no reason at all. In one scene, two girls are trying to call the police on a rotary phone. “Where’s the buttons?” one of them screams. Har har, kids these days don’t know how to use antiquated technology.

The final girl also can’t drive a manual transmission because she wouldn’t take lessons from her dad. Get it, Gen Z doesn’t know how to drive stick shift? Get it? Well, she can’t drive stick until the story needs her to and then she miraculously can when her dad tells her to press on the clutch. Suddenly she’s driving like Dominic Torretto.

I could go on, but I probably shouldn’t. Clown in a Cornfield, in my opinion, is not a fun slasher, it’s just middling with a premise ripped from the 2016 headlines. Maybe they’ll make another one and learn from their mistakes, or maybe there’s an audience for this kind of crap. I don’t know, but I think there are better slashers to watch.

I was watching a newer slasher movie recently, one that people on Letterboxd said was fun, and I absolutely hated it. (More on that movie in another post.) But it got me thinking about what makes a truly great, or even just a good, slasher movie. Aside from the fact that it should overall be a well-made film, here are necessary elements of a slasher.

#1 - The Killer

In my opinion, the killer is the most important part of a slasher. A good killer, like Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger, is memorable and elevates the movie. A boring killer, like the one from Nail Gun Massacre or whatever that was from I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer, will ruin a movie.

A good killer has to have a mysterious backstory, an iconic weapon or costume, and a specific goal, even if it’s just something like “kill all teenagers at this camp”. A killer needs to be charismatic like Freddy, menacing like Jason, terrifying like Candyman, or maybe all three like Patrick Bateman.

#2 - The Kills

This should probably #1 part 2 rather than #2. Creative kills with practical effects and buckets of blood make or break a slasher. This is what I like about the Terrifier movies; they’re not overly scary but Art the Clown sure does know how to spill more blood than a human body should contain.

But it’s not just creativity in kills, a slasher has to be more than a one trick pony. There needs to be a variety of kills, preferably ones that grow in intensity over time. You don’t have to have the same throat slashing every time and you definitely don’t want your first kill to be the best.

#3 - The Characters

Slashers have a lot of tropes, and the colorful cast of characters is probably one of the most well-known. You need to have a quiet girl and a peppy girl, a sarcastic guy and an arrogant jock, someone with a secret past and someone who’s afraid all of the time, a guy who only wants sex and a smart girl who knows where the library is. And they all talk like actual human beings instead of Disney Channel kids written by a 60-year-old.

One by one these characters all die off until there’s only one left, usually the quiet girl. Or, if the movie is subverting your expectations, the jock will survive and the virginal girl will be the first to die.

#4 - The Humor

Obviously, this whole list is subjective, but this one might be the most subjective. A slasher needs to have some moments of comedy, or at least some light moments. Some people like them really silly, like the later Nightmare on Elm Street movies, but I prefer mostly serious movies with a bit of humor thrown in.

#5 - The Setting

The setting for a slasher needs to give a feeling of isolation, even if it’s not in a remote location. The woods is a good setting because it can quickly and easily produce intense feelings in the viewer. The woods are isolated, far from help. They’re expansive and never ending but also claustrophobic and maze-like. The perfect place to let a killer run loose.

But it doesn’t always have to be remote. Halloween is set in a small town or a suburb but help never really seems nearby. It draws on the feeling of isolation in the suburbs, of having a home but not really being a part of a community, little islands in an ocean of freeways.

Time is also a part of the setting. The night is scarier than daytime because things can be hiding around any corner, in any shadow. The 1990s and earlier make for a good setting because you don’t have to worry about cellphones, GPS, and security cameras everywhere.

#6 - The Incompetence

We laugh about how people always split up in horror movies, or how the police never listen to young people, but it’s integral to the slasher. If everyone was hyper competent and thinking clearly, then the story wouldn’t happen. Sure, you don’t want your characters to be complete morons, or at least not all of them, but a sense of superiority is kind of part of the genre.

#7 - The Jump Scares

This one is divisive because some movies have relied too much on jump scares, but I believe you need a limited amount in a good slasher. Maybe one or two fake outs and then a real one. Maybe a fake out followed quickly by the killer jumping out. The audience needs to be on edge, not knowing what to expect next.

And finally …

#8 - The Music

A good slasher has to have great music. The theme from Halloween is a classic and it only adds to the feeling of horror. While not a slasher, the music from Jaws instantly evokes fear and dread in the viewer, making them hyper aware something bad is about to happen.

So, these are the things I think make a good slasher. A great slasher will excel in all of these. In the next post I’m going to talk about relatively new slasher and why it fails in almost all of these. Comment and let me know if you would add anything else.

Edge of the City is a 1957 film directed by Martin Ritt and starring Sidney Poitier, John Cassavetes, and Ruby Dee. The story follows a drifter (Cassavetes) who begins work as a stevedore and befriends a charming man (Poitier). The two men become fast friends (which is easy because Poitier plays the most charismatic man to ever walk the face of the earth), which draws the ire of some racists on the docks.

Over time, the men’s lives become intertwined, and something that looks like a lot more than friendship develops. The movie never says anything directly about homosexual attraction, but I think for anyone looking it’s definitely there. They spend almost their entire days together, both at work and outside. Even though they each have respective partners, by the end they seem to kind of abandon them in favor of each other.

The movie comes to a head with a scene of racial violence and a final reckoning for the drifter. He has spent the entire film walking in two worlds and it has cost someone their life. He had unintentionally put a target on his friend’s back and his failure to understand how race (and sexuality) worked in America had real consequences. The drifter, actually a Jewish man and Army deserter, has been able to hide his secrets, but Poitier is never given that luxury. He can’t pretend to live in any other world.

Edge of the City is the work of a director caught up in the Red Scare, who knew full well the scrutiny some faced in Hollywood. It’s amazing to me that was able to make this movie, with its racial politics and sexual suggestions. It’s definitely worth a watch, even just to see Poitier give a phenomenal performance.

I don’t think I’ve really seen an antiwar film. Every film about war ends up being pro-war. - François Truffaut

“Paths of Glory”, the 1957 film directed by Stanley Kubrick, is said to be one of the strongest antiwar films ever made. It follows of company of French soldiers in the western front of World War I. They are called upon by their superiors to take a hill currently occupied by the Germans, even though half of the men will die in the action. After some men refuse to advance, or even are ordered to retreat, the higher ups take three random men and put them on trial for cowardice.

As far as making an antiwar point, the film is extremely effective. The generals live in lavish homes full of creature comforts, art, and tasty food. The soldiers, on the other hand, are either living underground or in open trenches. The generals are clean, wearing crisp uniforms. The soldiers are filthy and wretched looking.

The generals are ok with throwing men’s lives away, men they see as their inferiors and barely even civilized. They speak of execution as a morale booster rather than a failure of their leadership. In one horrific scene, a general calls for his artillery captain to fire on his own men in order to motivate them to advance. A chess player cares more for his pawns than this man does for living, breathing humans.

Knowing what I do about World War I, none of this seems exaggerated. Nationalism and chauvinism in the upper class created these psychopaths who would rather half of Europe die than to admit they were wrong.

But is “Paths of Glory” actually antiwar? The politicians and generals’ thirst for blood is satirized, but nothing is really said about the overall idea of war. Kirk Douglas, the protagonist, is a fighting man who actually does advance, despite his reservations. Even though he is certain many man are going to die, he does not defy orders. He expects someone to be held responsible for the failures of the leadership, but he always does exactly what they want.

The ordinary soldiers are seen as heroic, especially the men who are on trial. Their actions are above reproach, the film would have us believe. They tried to fight, they attempted to follow orders, it was just impossible to do so.

In this way, I don’t think “Paths of Glory” is fully antiwar. Of Kubrick’s three “antiwar” films, I think it sits right in the middle, with “Dr. Strangelove” being stronger and “Full Metal Jacket” being the least antiwar.

Can a film truly be called antiwar? Steven Spielberg, on the release of “Saving Private Ryan”, said that every war movie is ultimately antiwar, because it shows the horrors. But is that true? “Saving Private Ryan” is so exciting that I think the majority of the audience was energized by the violence. They put themselves in the soldier’s boots and thought of the battles as morally good. The sacrifices of the characters are seen as honorable and important. It’s probably the most pro-war movie outside of a Michael Bay or Roland Emmerich propaganda film.

For a movie to be antiwar, it has to completely reject the idea of war, of violence itself. It cannot merely criticize the folly of short-sighted leadership but also the blood lust of the common soldier. It must outright reject the techniques used to exhilarate audiences.

I have a hard time thinking of many films that live up to my (admittedly very high) standard. If you know of any, comment and let me know. I’m always on the lookout for good movies with decent politics.

“Bad Day at Black Rock” is a 1955 John Sturges neo-western film noir starring Spencer Tracy, Robert Ryan, Anne Francis, and Ernest Borgnine. It follows a one-armed stranger1 who shows up in a tiny desert town looking for a Japanese man. The whole town freaks out over this stranger and it quickly becomes obvious something bad has happened. Two central mysteries are then explored: who is this stranger and what happened to the man he’s looking for?

It’s hard to talk about this movie without getting into spoiler territory, but I’ll try to keep it at a minimum. The Japanese man the stranger is looking for has obviously come into some kind of harm. Because of his race, the town hurt him and covered up the crime. Everyone in the town, whether directly or indirectly by allowing the coverup to continue, is implicated in the crime.

The ringleader, a local strongman who has brown beaten the town, was rejected by the military2 and not given the chance to kill Japanese abroad, so he decided to terrorize his neighbor. He convinced everyone, whether by violent means or not, to go along with him. The sheriff, the doctor, and the diner owner all looked the other way.

Then a stranger walks into town. And not just any stranger, but a veteran of the war who carries a reminder of the violence with him everywhere he goes. He’s the complete opposite of the town leader, a man who has traveled the world and seen the devastation of war. One is brave while the other is a coward.

Ultimately, the truth wins out and some of the guilty are punished. (Not before Spencer Tracy beats the crap out Ernest Borgnine in an incredible fight.) Most of the town gets away with the cover up, but they carry with them the guilt of knowing they stood by while evil ruled.

“Bad Day at Black Rock” is an excellent film that definitely deserves your time. Spencer Tracy is excellent, the cinematography is beautiful, and the themes of racial violence and social justice are way ahead of their time. It forces the viewer to reckon with what was done to Japanese Americans only a few years previously. It forces us, many years later, to think about what happens every day in our own towns.

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There are a lot of things you can say about Akira Kurosawa’s “The Hidden Fortress”: it’s the most accessible Kurosawa film, it’s one of his most successful, it was inspired by many the films of John Ford and John Huston, and it inspired many future filmmakers (including that one I said we weren’t going to talk about). It’s also Kurosawa’s lightest, funniest movie, but one with an undercurrent of deep darkness.

The story follows two peasants who leave their village lives to fight a war and hopefully make some money. Only they missed the war, got mistaken for enemy combatants, and were put to work digging graves. When we first meet them, they’re complaining that they smell like corpses, as if that’s a perfectly normal thing to joke around about.

And it doesn’t stop there. These two men are the comedic relief of the film, yet they try their hardest to sexually assault a 16-year-old princess who has lost her entire family. The only thing that stops them is a woman the princess saved from forced prostitution. They never think twice about it and aren’t remorseful in the slightest.

In fact, our protagonists never really do anything “good” the entire movie. They unknowingly help the princess, but they just think they’re getting away with some gold. They don’t do anything during the final confrontations except hid behind some bushes and wait for it to all blow over.

Another character, General Rokurota Makabe, gives up his sister to be executed in the place of the princess. We’re never told how the sister feels about this, but knowing the power dynamics of the time, neither were given much choice in the matter. The sister was sacrificed for her master because that’s what those on the bottom do.

When you sit down and think about it, this light fare from Kurosawa is just as dark, gritty, and philosophical as any of his other films, it just has a veneer of comedy on top. The viewer is forced to contend with all of the messiness of a post-war society and question whether there actually is a light at the end of the tunnel. These characters aren’t one-dimensional heroes like you might think, they are living, breathing human beings, full of contradictions and competing loyalties.

In other words, they’re all Han Solo and no Luke Skywalker.

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