Joe Johnson Writer

Tag: star-wars

  • Han Solo’s Revenge

    Han Solo’s Revenge

    The intergalactic smuggler with a heart of gold returns in the 1979 novel, “Han Solo’s Revenge.” Which of course begs the question, “What is he so mad about?”

    Well, after his latest get-rich-quick scheme sparks a minor uprising, Han and Chewie strike out for the Corporate Sector. It’s a few years before “A New Hope” and the pair need a quick score to keep the creditors at bay. Against his better judgement, Han signs on to haul some cargo without knowing what he’s transporting.

    It turns out to be slaves.

    Unwilling to traffic in sentient freight, Han turns on his employers and sets out to make them pay. Specifically, the ten thousand credits he was promised for the job.

    Um, Mr. Solo? I think you have to complete the job to be owed payment. But never mind.

    Instead, he begins working his way up the criminal hierarchy, demanding his money like a Star Wars riff on Richard Stark’s The Hunter. The story rips along as Han follows the trail to low level thugs, corpo goon squads, space pirates, squabbling clan leaders, shadowy poisoners, and the secret beating heart of the conspiracy.

    Along the way he picks up a couple fun partners, including a mismatched pair of droids, a skip tracer determined to repo the Millenium Falcon, and a spunky junior executive who wants to expose the conspiracy to get a boost up the corporate ladder.

    Author Brian Daley may not get the acclaim of Timothy Zahn, but his Han Solo novels are consistently fun and entertaining romps. He imbues his characters with enough wit and compassion to bring them alive on the page in a way you rarely see in commercial tie-in fiction. It’s a shame we only got three of these novels from Daley. In a better world, we’d have dozens.

    Oh well. Han Solo’s Revenge is great action adventure in the wider world of Star Wars. I loved this book. It’s good, pulpy fun.

  • Han Solo at Stars’ End

    Han Solo at Stars’ End

    It’s hard to think back to a time when Star Wars was just a single movie. Maybe because I hadn’t been born yet.

    Before the Disney streaming shows, the sequel trilogy, the prequel trilogy, Clone Wars crap, the roleplaying games, the video games, the board games, the Disney rides, and a metric mountain-load of toys, there was just one film; A simple story about a farm boy with a laser sword who blows up a space station with his friends.

    Then, in 1979, that world expanded. We got our first look at what would become the Star Wars Extended Universe before The Empire Strikes back hit theaters. It was in a little book called Han Solo at Star’s End.

    Han, years before he meets up with Luke and Obi-Wan, is cooling his heels in the Corporate Sector. Think of it like the Empire, but with more red tape and business suits. He runs afoul of the law for not having his car, I mean starship, registration renewed and books it to one of his underworld contacts. She agrees to give him new fake credentials in exchange for pulling a dangerous job: Breaking some folks out of their work contract on a corpo-controlled agriworld. Without any other options, Han takes the job, and adventure ensues.

    Unlike a lot of Star Wars material, Star’s End captures the pulp serial action-adventure vibe that runs through the original film. There’s no bold, operatic battle between good and evil here. Just a fun adventure that sees Han and Chewie shooting it out with company goons, dealing with traitors in their midst, and leading an escape from an impregnable space prison.

    My favorite stuff in Star Wars has always been the little hints about the criminal underworld hiding in the corners of the frame, so this was catnip for me. I had a great time reading this. Author Brian Daley captures Han Solo’s voice so effortlessly that you can just hear Harrison Ford speaking the lines in your head.

    When I reviewed the Han Solo books by A. C. Crispin, one of my biggest complaints was that the stories failed to offer any insights into how he became the character we know. Chips on the table: This book fails to hit that mark, too. But the story was so vibrantly told with breathless excitement and energy that I didn’t have time to stop and care. Han Solo at Star’s End is a solid, entertaining slice of sci-fi adventure that makes me wish that Daley had written dozens of these books instead of just three.

    Sometimes, you just want to read about a guy with a laser gun committing crimes with his shaggy dog friend.

  • Star Wars: Rebel Dawn

    Star Wars: Rebel Dawn

    Who would have thought the best book in the Han Solo trilogy would also have the least amount of Han Solo in it?

    I’m getting ahead of myself. “Rebel Dawn” opens with Han down to his last credits after losing his ship, the Bria, in the battle of Nar Shaddaa. Never one for subtlety, Han decides to wager it all and enters a Sabacc gambling tournament.

    Elsewhere, Bria Tharen — the namesake of Han’s lost ship — is now a commander in the Rebel Alliance. She wants to attack Ylesia, the slave colony Han rescued her from two books ago. Taking over the illegal spice mining operation would give the Alliance money and troops to use in their fight against the Empire.

    Opposing her is Teroenza, the fake priest who runs Ylesia. He’s still annoyed that Han and Bria escaped all those years ago and stole treasures from his prized collection. He’s hired Boba Fett to capture them. Also, as a side hustle, he’s plotting against Durga the Hutt, who bankrolls the drug operation, because who doesn’t want to be their own boss?

    But wait, there’s more. Durga is obsessed with finding out who poisoned his father. Readers of the last book will know it was Jabba the Hutt and his uncle, Jiliac, who were plotting with Teroenza to overthrow the rival Hutt clan. Durga’s fixation draws the attention of Black Sun, a rival criminal syndicate which would love to get a foothold in Hutt space. Jabba, meanwhile, is bristling under his uncle’s stewardship, and seeks a way to become the new head of his clan.

    Whew! As you can see, there’s a lot going on in this book. Where the last two novels kept the stakes low and the focus limited, “Rebel Dawn” is epic in scale, shifting between a variety of vivid characters as the story barrels toward “Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.” As the capper to a trilogy, it’s a doozy.

    What amazed me was how neatly the story beats all clicked into place. A. C. Crispin ends the book about one minute before Han meets Luke and Obi-Wan in the Mos Eisley Cantina. It never feels rushed or forced, but a natural progression of the story that just happens to end right before the movies begin. It’s deftly done and a credit to the author’s ability (for the opposite effect, just watch “Solo: A Star Wars Story,” which is about as subtle as a rocket propelled grenade).

    Best of all, we see the events that harden Han’s heart and turn him into the “mercenary” of the films. As George Carlin famously said, “Inside every cynic is a disappointed idealist.” Seeing how this plays out adds a great layer to an already great character. Even though we spend less time with him, we learn more, and that makes for a better read.

    Speaking of spending little time with someone: One final note. Han and Chewie visit Kashyyyk, where the Wookiee gets married, leaves, comes back, discovers he has a son, then leaves again. So, I guess Chewbacca is a deadbeat dad? Or his wife is just one understanding lady. “But,” I imagine him growling, “I owe the guy a life debt.”

    Yeah, nice try. That excuse never worked for me, either.

  • Star Wars: The Hutt Gambit

    Star Wars: The Hutt Gambit

    For my first Star Wars extended universe book in 25 years, I thought it would be fun to explore the origins of Han Solo. Disney dropped the ball when they made “Solo,” so I was eager to see what someone else would do with the material.

    The story opens with Han drinking alone in a bar, drowning his sorrows. His dreams are crushed. He’s lamenting a decision that would have made for a much better novel: While serving in the Imperial Navy, Han defied orders and saved the life of a Wookiee slave. His actions saw him stripped of rank and blacklisted from ever working as a commercial pilot.

    A character sacrificing their hopes and dreams to confront a grave injustice would be rich soil for a story to explore, but never mind. Han flies to Nar Shaddaa, the “Smuggler’s Moon,” to find work. He’s joined by the slave he rescued, a Wookiee named Chewbacca who claims to owe him a life-debt. Having seen the movies, we know he means it.

    Han reconnects with an old buddy from the academy and begins his career as a smuggler. This is a lot less exciting than it sounds. We mostly bum around with Han and Chewie as they haul cargo from one place to the next. Later, Han petitions Jabba the Hutt for work, and becomes his chauffer. Then he saves the gangster’s life during a pirate attack, which isn’t very exciting, but it goes on for a while.

    If you squint, you can see the shape of a story here. Han is rebuilding himself after a fall from grace. We witness his rise through the criminal underworld. But it feels like we are reading our way through a sequence that would be a two-minute montage in a feature film. Han meets Lando and teaches him how to fly. Han gets abducted by Boba Fett, then immediately rescued. Han dates a magician, then gets dumped. Han sees the Millenium Falcon for the first time and instantly falls in love with it, because the author has seen the movies.

    There is never an obstacle or setback that isn’t resolved three pages later.

    I complained that the first novel, “The Paradise Snare,” skipped the moments that would have really explored Han’s character. “The Hutt Gambit” has the same problem. It’s very much “tell, don’t show” kind of writing. But “Paradise Snare” at least maintained interest by pivoting in interesting directions—who would have guessed Han spent some formative years running drugs for a religious cult? “The Hutt Gambit” doesn’t have anywhere meaningful to go.

    It culminates in an epic space battle where Han rallies an army of smugglers against the Imperial Navy. It’s meant to be a showstopper. But A. C. Crispin has a hard time conveying the logistics. First, she spends an obscene amount of time with characters announcing their plans to an audience (and the readers). Then the battle itself becomes a slurry of throwaway characters and relentless pew-pew without any real stakes because we know who survives and the rest are thinly-sketched plot contrivances.

    There’s some truly terrible writing in here. Sample dialog: “Mako here. You ready?” “We’re ready!” “Go for it!” Or how about: “We’re being drawn by the moon’s gravity! In about a minute, we’re going to hit Nar Shaddaa’s energy shield! And what an explosion that would be!” Oof.

    It’s a testament to the author’s ability that the book ends up being tolerable. She captures the feeling of Han, Chewie, and Lando well enough to elevate this above bad fan fiction. But only just.

    You can tell this is intended as the middle chapter of a trilogy. We get several asides with other characters that have no relevance on the story we are reading. They are just setting the table for a payoff in the third book.

    I’m hoping that one will be better. “The Hutt Gambit” isn’t bad. But just days after finishing, I had to look up a synopsis online to even remember what happened. That’s probably not what the author intended.

  • Star Wars: The Paradise Snare

    Star Wars: The Paradise Snare

    Long before he gut-shot Greedo in a dimly lit bar and tossed a few credits to the owner to apologize for the mess, Han Solo was a young thief on the streets of Corellia. “The Paradise Snare” is his origin story — or, at least, it was. Then Disney acquired Star Wars and tossed everything from the Extended Universe into the Sarlacc pit. But never mind.

    We open with Han planning his escape from Garris Shrike, a Fagin-like crime lord who presses young orphans into service as grifters and pickpockets. Han has been scamming Corellian noblemen under Shrike’s orders for years. But he aspires to a life where he isn’t forced to commit crimes to make a living. He dreams of joining the Imperial Academy to become a real pilot. Yet he’s already an accomplished racer on his home world, and he masters any spacecraft he’s given with a deft hand. What’s left for him to learn? Is he looking to pad his resume?

    To pay his tuition, he needs to earn some money that doesn’t end up in Shrike’s pocket. So he stows away aboard a shuttle and travels to the planet Ylesia, run by a secretive religious sect in desperate need of pilots. The sect fills their coffers by selling black market spice and conscripting their pilgrims to mine it. While touring the facility, Han meets and falls for a beautiful young pilgrim. We imagine this will end poorly, since the girl is not mentioned in the movies. But how will it happen and how will this mold him into the character we know? The mystery holds our interest, but it’s not hard to guess.

    Meanwhile, the priests saddle Han with a bodyguard. It becomes apparent that he is really just there to keep an eye on Solo. Han knows he can earn the money he needs honestly (or as honestly as one can while smuggling drugs), but he could speed up the process by slipping his hand into the till. It raises the question: Does he really want to go straight? Old habits die hard. Eventually, Han discovers that the religious colony is a front for the Hutts, and he comes up with a plan to rob them and escape with the girl.

    Prequels are a hard thing to get right. The audience already knows where the story ends up, so it is up to the author to make the journey worth the trip. When done right, a prequel can cast the original stories in a new light, providing nuance and context to reshape the scenes we already know. “The Paradise Snare” fails at this. Han Solo arrives at the story fully-formed as the character we know—just younger and a bit naive. He hasn’t been struck by life’s great disappointments yet. There are no missing puzzle pieces that unlock a greater understanding of his character.

    Instead, we get a few glimmers into the events that harden Solo’s heart. There’s the death of Dewlanna, a kindly Wookiee and cook to Shrike’s crew who takes Solo under her wing. There’s no indication that she cares about the other children. But, again, never mind. We also get a brief flashback to the time Han ran away to find out what happened to his parents. The episode plays out far differently than we might expect.

    We only get a few brief asides about Solo’s childhood. I was left wondering if we’d be better served going deeper into the past. Dewlanna’s death and Solo’s hatred of Shrike are good ideas that end up carrying little weight because the characters are introduced and disappear in the first chapter. Seeing him develop from a poor street kid into a charming swindler and how his relationship develops with two vastly different parental figures would’ve made this story far more emotionally resonant.

    Instead, “The Paradise Snare” suffers from the same problem that plagues all tie-in fiction: Nothing of great importance can happen, so the story feels like glorified fan-fic. I enjoyed the novel, but it isn’t essential. There’s little here that couldn’t be inferred from reading between the lines in the original films.

    That said, the author tells a decent story that avoids all the rebel vs. empire, light vs. dark side tropes that mire the rest of the series. It feels like a small miracle that no one shows up to wave a lightsaber around. It also manages to fill in the blanks without being trite and asking questions nobody cares about, like “Solo: A Star Wars Story” did (Why is he called Solo? Because he tells an Imperial officer he is alone).

    The book also sticks the landing with a wonderful ending. For Han, it’s a personal triumph. But knowing, as we do, what Han’s future holds, it’s a poignant and bittersweet note.

  • Star Wars: Skeleton Crew

    Star Wars: Skeleton Crew

    Wim lives a simple life. He wakes up every morning and goes to school. At night, he crams for the placement exams that will determine his future. On the weekends, he dreams of being a knight and having adventures. His best friend is a blue elephant.

    Oh, did I forget to mention? Wim lives in the Star Wars universe.

    One day, Wim and Neel (his friendly Loxodonta) are exploring in the woods when they find a mysterious, overgrown mechanical hatch. Maybe it leads to a secret underground temple? Nope, just a buried intergalactic star freighter. Two girls, Fern and KB, also stumble across the wreck and claim it for themselves. They are looking for replacement parts for their speeder bike.

    No sooner do they climb aboard than the ship takes off and leaves them stranded lightyears away from home. To make matters worse, it turns out that the kids live on At Attin–a “lost” world rumored to possess riches beyond men’s wildest dreams. This makes it a little hard to ask for directions.

    Their ship, they learn later, was once owned by the notorious pirate Tak Rennod. The only crew left aboard is the malfunctioning droid SM-33, who is voiced by a pitch perfect by Nick Frost. The name SM-33, you’ll notice, looks like Smee, the right-hand man to Captain Hook. Fern pluckily declares herself the new Captain and orders SM-33 to land them someplace safe. SM-33 takes them to the safest place he knows: A haven for pirates and smugglers.

    Thus begins the adventures of the Skeleton Crew.

    I’ll admit, I was skeptical when I saw the trailer. Suburban kids setting off on a pirate adventure in the Star Wars universe? Sounds like the usual Disney committee-think disaster.

    But the result is charming and fun. It’s The Goonies in space.

    Along the way, the crew meets up with Jod Na Nawood. He sports an unfortunate name even by Star Wars standards. He may also be a secret Jedi. But why do the kids find him in jail? Also, everyone he meets knows him by a different name–Captain Silvo, Crimson Jack, Dash Zentin, Professor Umiam Gorelox. Take your pick. Each person tells the kids: “Don’t trust him.” But Wim is skeptical. How can a Jedi knight be bad?

    Jude Law is clearly having a blast playing Jod, who feels like Han Solo if life kept dealing him bad hands. Or maybe Indiana Jones is a better fit. He’s clearly making this up as he goes and staying just one step ahead of near disaster. When all the plates come falling down, it’s hard to know whether he will come down on the side of the saints or the sinners. It’s possible he doesn’t know either.

    If I were to lodge one complaint: I still think putting suburbs in Star Wars is a stupid idea. I know. I get it. It’s a narrative shorthand to build a connection with the young audience.

    But it’s not like kids needed that to relate to Luke Skywalker. You can still do the kids-bored-with-everyday-life schtick without reducing it to lawn mowers and white picket fences.

    And, ya know, blue elephant besties.

    I don’t think Star Wars has been this entertaining since the first season of the Mandalorian. This is the kind of show that would’ve blown my mind as a kid. As a recently-turned 40-year-old, it’s still easy to recommend. It’s got that classic Spielberg, Amblin Entertainment charm that’s so rare these days.

    I’ll admit to being biased. I grew up enamored with Indiana Jones, Jurassic Park, and Back to the Future. Part of me yearns for pulpy, preposterous adventure stories. Throw some lost cities, forbidden treasures, and a few daring escapes at me and I’m pretty much in for the cost of admission. Not everything has to be high art. Sometimes fun is enough.