New Star Wars - a train wreck or last hurrah?

What lies ahead? a scene from the trailer for
the final Star Wars story in the Skywalker saga

A second trailer has been released for what will be the final movie of the Star Wars saga that began 42 years ago.  So will the film be a last crunching pile-up moment of the train wreck delivered by 2017's The Last Jedi, or will it be an uplifting hurrah?

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is episode nine and the conclusion of the Skywalker story, which started in 1977 with the original Star Wars (later renamed Episode 4: A New Hope). That first movie set in motion one of the 20th century's major cultural and cinematic phenomenon.

Sadly, two years ago the franchise suffered the shockingly divisive episode eight, The Last Jedi. In December we shall see what can be salvaged from the wreckage, and whether what should be a cinematic climax like no other will manage to at least be a fitting finale.

The Star Wars story has spiraled downward dramatically in the past few years. Depending on your point of view that nosedive may have started with the opening segment of the current sequel trilogy, The Force Awakens, in 2015, or been nailed by the calamitous storytelling and legacy mishandling of The Last Jedi.

How bad are things for Star Wars? Consider this: there is a real chance The Rise of Skywalker will not reach $1 billion at the box office, a mere four years after episode seven, The Force Awakens, became the third film in history to take more than $2 billion. For popularity to wane that suddenly and dramatically takes a lot of doing. Disney must be fretting.

For context, The Last Jedi did not attract multiple repeat viewings the way most of its predecessors did, and topped out with a worldwide box office total of $1.3 billion, while Star Wars spin-off Solo, released five months later, was a relative flop taking only $393 million.

A final hurrah: rebel spaceships, many recognisable from their
appaerance in the original Star Wars movie in 1977

It's true that financial success alone is no indicator of artistic merit and integrity, there are plenty of outstanding creative works that have made pitiful financial returns. But the Star Wars franchise was a seemingly indestructible cash-cow when, earlier this decade, Disney splashed $4 billion to buy Lucasfilm and the rights to create these new films.

The first half of the new trailer shows clips from each of the previous eight movies in the saga. Interestingly they are shown in order of their original release date rather than chronologically by the events they portray. What stands out is the clean, clear, and bright crispness of the original trilogy - a harking back to a more innocent escapist era and a magnificent story arc that stretched across those three movies.

We then see clips from the hit-and-miss prequel trilogy, before we pass into today's convoluted and muddled sequel trilogy, and finally a few short snippets of the upcoming movie. Very little is revealed, although there is another lightsabre duel between Rey and Adam Driver - sorry Kylo.

That slip, where I could remember the actor's name but not the name of the chief villain he portrays, is instructive of the major problem this trilogy has - and that is a crippling lack of character "buy in". This new movie might as well start with a blank slate, because The Last Jedi failed to develop any of the characters in meaningful ways and followed a preposterous storyline. It also managed to end with no compelling reason for audiences to return to see what happens next.

With no character or story arc to bind things together, this new trilogy is broken. The Rise of Skywalker for all intents and purposes is a standalone movie. And while it is too early to write off the new film, it is hard not to feel a sense of forboding.

Director and writer JJ Abrams has to find a resolution to a 42-year saga in a single film that was left high and dry by its immediate predecessor. There is some hope, because Abrams has shown flashes of skill, from Super 8 to his fairly steady handling of The Force Awakens. But what is required now is a tall order.

Only a genuine redemption of Luke Skywalker, one of cinema's most cherished heroes, is likely to save the day in the wake of this greatest legacy character's treatment in The Last Jedi. In this trailer and the first released earlier in the year, we get to hear his voice. This time we also hear the voice of Emperor Palpatine and the sinister breathing of Darth Vader, both of whom were thought destroyed in 1983's Return of the Jedi.

So to return to the question, what lies ahead? Will it be a final pile-up train wreck moment, or will it be an uplifting hurrah for Star Wars? Let's hope for the latter. Over to you JJ.

• The new trailer for Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

Silly rule snatches defeat from jaws of victory

Not allowed: Learmouth and Taylor-Brown beat everyone but
were disqualified for crossing the finish line together 

Two triathletes battled for the best part of two hours in searing heat and beat an international field in a pre-Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games test event. Except they didn't.

Yes, they finished ahead of everyone else, but they were disqualified after raising each other's hand aloft as they crossed the finish line together. A rule of the International Triathlon Union forbids "contrived ties" and led to Jessica Learmouth and Georgia Taylor-Brown having their finishing times rubbed from the results in Tokyo.

The reason has been reported elsewhere and has sparked a debate on whether it was right or wrong. The decision was technically right, because the rule exists and outlaws such a thing.

However, it is the rule that is woefully wrong.

Before going further, consider also that even the "technically right" argument is leaky. In today's world a contrived tie in a timed sport such as triathlon is virtually impossible. There are high-spec finish line cameras and digital mat timing systems capable of separating finishers' times down to hundredths of a second. Indeed, Learmouth was initially given the victory as measured by such technology. The jointly-raised arms and side-by-side finish was a symbolic gesture of camaraderie and sportsmanship; Learmouth and Taylor-Brown are British teammates and training partners.

But on Friday, rule 2.11.f was evoked and the swiftest athletes on the day were denied coveted pre-Olympic podium positions and departed empty-handed.

So, the question is: does there always need to be an outright winner in a sporting competition, or can athletes act in the moment and split the honours if they feel the challenge has been equally met?
To the latter, I say yes.

In competition, a race to the finish is what happens 99 per cent of the time. But now and then something else occurs and we see another, equally valid side of sportsmanship, a spirit of humanity and a sharing of a euphoric moment. It can happen when two athletes, having beaten all others, are unable to break away from their last opponent. In an often wordless moment of spontaneity they acknowledge the equal accomplishment of the other and share the celebration, matching strides across the finish line.

In international-level sport such occurrences are rare, but when they happen the message sent can reverberate far and wide in a positive way. Many still remember the winning moment in the first London Marathon, in 1981, when Inge Simenson and Dick Beardsley had doggedly tried to break clear of each other during the 26.2-mile race, but crossed the finish line together.

Beardsley later said: "In a spontaneous show of sportsmanship, we grabbed each other's hand and almost in that instant we broke the tape. The photo made papers all over the world."

As a young teenager who had started road running seriously only seven months earlier, it encouraged me to see such sportsmanship at the highest level of my chosen sport.

I'm sure it will be the same for countless aspiring triathletes today who witnessed the sporting gesture of Learmouth and Taylor-Brown, although what could have been an empowering, life-affirming advert for the sport has been blunted by the disqualification decision.

Indeed, on Saturday in an Instagram post, Learmouth wrote: "Couldn’t have dreamt of taking the tape with G. Feel we showcased our sport in the right way, hopefully showing young athletes it’s not always dog eat dog."

And let us also remember the Olympic creed: "The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well."

The ITU should jettison its hard and fast rule and let finish line events take their natural and spontaneous course.

Video commentary after the event:

Lady Bird does justice to life's imperfections

Not eye to eye:'Lady Bird' and her mother and the strained dynamics of
their relationship are central to Lady Bird and its coming-of-age story

Growing up in an unremarkable place, and literally on the wrong side of the tracks, that's life's lot for Lady Bird, the titular character in the 2017 movie that delighted cinema audiences.

But this is a coming-of-age story, and Lady Bird is not about to let circumstances define who is she, or her destiny.

Lady Bird shows us the messy imperfections of life and family and of pushing against the restrictions of authority. However, it is also about looking to the horizon for fulfilment and a better life, the realising of true friends and who loves you ... and who likes you; watch for the subtle but defining distinction between the latter two as they bump together in the strained relationship of Lady Bird and her mother.

While it has been labelled a comedy-drama, this is much more a realism coming-of age tale. Don't expect laugh out loud moments because, while there are amusing turns, this film does not overly seek or play for laughs. Instead, it focuses on the heartfelt nature of a struggling family, particularly the friction between Lady Bird (Saoirse Ronan) and her mother (Laurie Metcalf).

Lady Bird also has a feeling of connection to places. Towards the end Lady Bird drives through the streets of Sacramento, California, seeing from a new perspective familiar places where she once walked - one step removed and moving on, but absorbing that connection with the familiar, with home.

Lady Bird is worthy of the praise it attracted from audiences. Four stars from five.

Ofiicial trailer for Lady Bird:

That time I tried to tricycle around Australia

Ready to roll: on the tricycle and
gearing up to ride around Australia

Not achieving your goal can be as rewarding - and sometimes more so - than reaching your target. This was brought home to me many moons ago after an attempt to cycle around the whole of Australia.

If the "me then" had read the opening sentence above, I would have shook my head in disagreement. Because being young and "bulletproof," everything was about clarity and absolutes or, as Yoda had said: "Do or do not, there is no try."

But hundreds of miles into the outback and many days ride from the nearest town, I pitched my small tent beneath another breathtaking Australian sunset and conceded that the trans-country ambition was slipping from my grasp. Fitness alone would not be enough; the biomechanical strain was causing one knee to holler ever louder in pain each day. Abandoning the endeavour was the sensible option. The evening sky, splashed with hues of yellow, red and mauve, seemed to belong to another world. I sat at the tent's entrance and pondered what it would mean to step away from the challenge. Was it a "try" that had failed, or was it a "do" that had reached an unavoidable early conclusion?

It all began by thinking big ... real big. Sure it would have been easier to drive around Australia, but my wages as a sandwich delivery boy in Perth would not stretch to buying a used VW camper van or a Ford Holden, however clapped out they happened to be.

Instead, the ride would to be done on a second-hand tricycle to which I'd roped two baskets where I could store my rucksack and tent and containers of drinking water. On this exact day 31 years ago, the story appeared in a local suburb newspaper of Perth. However, by that time I was already pedaling somewhere "beyond the black stump", to use an Australian idiom.

An awful lot of distance lay ahead. The total journey would nudge beyond 10,000 miles (more than 15,000km) if it included an excursion away from the coast to Alice Springs in the centre of the country.

End of the day: the bike unpacked beside the tent in
the sunset afterglow, somewhere in the Australian outback

My aim was to do a round number each day. One hundred kilometres, around 60 miles, seemed doable, although 80km turned out to be more realistic. The tricycle was not built for speed, and weighed down by provisions and gear, together with the topography, weather conditions, and a desire to rest and enjoy the constantly unfolding panoramic views, the journey was never going to be about ratcheting up numbers on a speedometer.

It was the start of the antipodean winter, which helped temper the outback's often excessive heat. All the same, it was necessary to rest during the hours of peak heat each day. As evening approached, I'd take stock of where I was and scan the surroundings for a secure location off the road and out of sight to pitch the tent and hide the bike.

With each passing day signs of civilisation diminished and the remote wilderness took over. The ground became drier and harder, to the point that tent ground pegs could barely be pushed more than an inch into the soil.

On the road: the vast emptiness of the landscape, and
my fully laden cycle during a rest stop on an empty road

The slow pace of the journey was perfect, allowing time to absorb the surroundings; places of mindblowing emptiness, unusual rock formations, the sight of emus roaming in the distance, or lizards - much closer - scooting across the road.

The days were broken into 10km segments. As each was achieved the reward was a rest in a shady spot, a huge drink of water, and a jam sandwich or two from the bread basket hanging in front of the handlebars. All around was the ethereal near silence of the emptiness.

I slept well at night, comfortably exhausted from the cycling. Ten hours of sleep was common, broken only when I awoke to the occasional noise of an unseen animal in the night rustling around outside.

But a week into the journey, and with only another hour of cycling needed to reach the next major population centre of Geraldton, I decided to save my knee from further pain and called time on the cycling ambition. The rest of this curtailed journey would be by foot and hitchhiking. It took me to the dolphins of Monkey Mia, the remote township of Carnavron, and then the stunning 14-mile long (22km) beach at Broome in the far north-west.

Aa a hitchhiker and foot-traveller I met fellow journeyers I'd probably not have encountered had I still been on the cycling mission. The memories stay with me.

No, I didn't achieve the goal on which I'd set out. But embarking on it in the first place and then allowing it to evolve into something else, led to something as rewarding.
So think big, go for it, but know that a course correction doesn't mean a fail - it more than likely will bring equal or greater joy.

Newspaper article: May 31, 1988

Tiffany is on song revisiting '80s hit

Joy reflected: Tiffany has re-recorded  I Think We're Alone Now,
which was a worldwide hit for her as a teenager 32 years ago

From the slightly unruly hair, to the worn and ripped denim jacket, Tiffany blends in with those around her as she strolls through the sand and along the promenade at Venice Beach, California.

Passersby go about their business seemingly unaware that in their midst is the former teenage pop star who recorded one of the most recognisable songs of the 1980s.

It is more than 30 years since she first shone. Now she is back with a re-recording of her smash hit, I Think We're Alone Now. The accompanying video shows her walking around Venice Beach and other parts of Los Angeles, and in England singing at the recording studio of The Kinks' Ray Davies.

The song, a bubblegum pop hit in 1987, is instantly recognisable to the older generation and even to some who were born later and have come across it in other places, such as in the 2012 movie Ted.

I Think We're Alone Now was written by Ritchie Cordell and dates back to 1967, but Tiffany's cover version is its most successful iteration.

Tiffany was very much part of the spirit of the second half of the '80s, and with the new recording and video she continues to exude positive vibes. The feelings are the same, but her voice is stronger.

Denim was her signature clothing back in the '80s and the video recalls this, although pointedly exhibiting the passage of time as she no longer wears crisp, fresh denim, instead it is a faded jacket complete with rips and frayed collar.

Tiffany appears happy and  comfortable revisiting the song from her youth. It is almost like a statement to old friends who have travelled through those same years and decades: "How are you doing? Hasn't life been a blast!"

Not only does it reflect the passage of time, this new version proves how this simple song has staying power.

Video: Tiffany's 2019 version of I Think We're Alone Now

A curiously subdued Star Wars trailer

What lies ahead? an intriguing glimpse of Death Star wreckage in the trailer for The Rise of Skywalker

The first trailer for Star Wars 9, now revealed as The Rise of Skywalker, has a restrained feel. It is as though the director, JJ Abrams, is reluctant to show or giveaway anything about the plot ahead of its December release.

In a counterintuitive way that could be for the best, given the strongly divided reaction the previous installment of the saga generated (I gave Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi a reluctant 50% score). A bolder strategy would be a total pre-release blackout, letting the film take audiences by surprise and succeeding or failing through "old school" word-of-mouth recommendations.

However, such a slow burn approach, given the hundreds of millions of dollars spent on the production, is unlikely to fly with Disney executives.

Abrams has a tough task to pull the sequel trilogy back from the brink after the storytelling dumpster fire that was The Last Jedi. He appeared to diplomatically acknowledge this last week at the Star Wars Celebration event in Chicago, telling an interviewer: "We've taken to heart everything that has come before, and while it's obviously been significantly challenging, it's been a greater opportunity than a challenge."

Mystery with menace: Kylo Ren, played by Adam Driver,
is the most interesting new character in the sequel trilogy

There is no compelling narrative to carry the story on from The Last Jedi, and it features a cast of new characters that - two films into the trilogy - have yet to establish anywhere near the commanding presence achieved by the protagonists of the original films. As for the bad guys, they have been left to look ridiculously ineffective, save for the one beacon of possibility - Kylo Ren.

It may be that Abrams has found a way to retrofit a story into the void left by The Last Jedi - or to somehow create a bridge from his own Episode VII: A Force Awakens to this concluding part of the Skywalker saga. As I have previously noted, the core problem with this trilogy stems from the ad-hoc way it has taken shape, in a "pass the parcel" fashion with the story handed over from one writer/director to another, leaving each to mould their own tale "on the hoof" rather than revolving around a pre-planned story arc.

George Lucas, who created the Star Wars universe, was shunted out of the way when Disney purchased Lucasfilm in 2012. He had drafted his own vision of how the sequel trilogy might play out, but this was discarded by the decision-makers who took charge of the current trilogy.

Interestingly, in light of the polarising effect The Last Jedi has had on the franchise's fan base, Lucas was consulted before work began on The Rise of Skywalker; as was revealed by Abrams during last week's interview.

As for the new trailer, the most interesting moment is the scene showing what appears to be wreckage of a Death Star - and my guess it it is the second Death Star, which was destroyed in 1983's Return of The Jedi. There is a belief among some that lead protagonist Rey, played by Daisy Ridley, will swim to the wreckage and uncover a crucial part of the story. The trailer features the menacing laughter of Emporer Palpatine, hitherto believed vanquished at the hands of Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, and adds a tantalising possibility to where this final segment of the Skywalker saga might go.

One thing is for sure, for many fans only an appearance by Luke Skywalker will erase the bitter taste of The Last Jedi. Abrams' skillful insertion of Skywalker at the conclusion of The Force Awakens, created one of the series' greatest emotional jolts. Can he do it again?

The jury is out on whether the sequel trilogy can be salvaged. The Rise of Skywalker trailer gives no indication as to what the answer will be.

Video: The Rise of Skywalker official trailer:

Tea towel immortality at a village hall far away

Down to earth: Dougie MacLean, on stage at
Clunie village hall (Photographs by Heather Brain)

You know you're doing well when they put one of your songs on a tea towel, Dougie MacLean told the audience. We and the other 80 or so souls who sat on the wooden foldaway chairs in the tiny village hall, had travelled through unlit countryside and foothills to reach the remote venue on a single-track road in deepest Perthshire.

Our reward was an evening of music and tales from MacLean, who happily mingled with the audience during the half-time interval when tea, coffee, biscuits and bowls of crisps were laid on for free. During the break, MacLean also shared "nips" from a large bottle of The Gael gin - named after another of his tunes - which included the musical notation of the composition on the inside of the label, where it was magnified through the bottle's glass and its rapidly diminishing contents.

Clunie village hall is more often used for "knit and natter" evenings than staging concerts - but there was a good reason why MacLean, who was awarded the OBE in 2011 for services to music and charity, had chosen such an out-of-the-way location to sing his songs.

Earlier we had waited outside for the doors to open. It had been a day of clear blue sky, but as the long dusk settled so the temperature slid to the chill expected in March among foothills leading to the southern fringe of Scotland's Cairngorms mountain range. The thinest reminder of day clung precariously above us, a deepening blue turning to night; while the countryside silhouetted against the remnants of dusky light was all but swallowed by darkness.

Family assist: the stage decorations were
prepared by MacLean's grandchildren

Scattered on one horizon were distant lights of a few homes and farms. The final calls of birds settling in their nests echoed in the still air. The arrival of darkness in this remote spot leaves an outsider slightly disorientated, but not so for a local. MacLean's life and the lives of his parents and grandparents are deeply entwined with this place and the surrounding landscape.

As we were to learn from anecdotes shared between songs, as a boy MacLean had lived in a small house next to the village hall, and it had featured in his youth. He now owns and lives in a former village school a few miles away, where he has his own recording studio. Earlier generations of his family had had been taught at the school.

The landscape that stretches out from the village hall resonates with stories and meaning for MacLean and his family, who have maintained strong ties to the locale. Indeed, members of MacLean's family, including his wife, son and grandchildren, all pitched in to prepare the stage for the evening show, operate the mixing desk, serve the refreshments and look after the small merchandise stall at the door. His mother, now in her eighties, was among the audience.

It was at the entrance to the hall, next to a selection of CDs and DVDs, where a few tea towels emblazened with the lyrics to Caledonia were to be found. Caledonia is a spirited and beautifully uplifting ode that some have suggested is a future national anthem. It wrestles with The Gael as MacLean's most successful composition. The latter is an instrumental, a version of which took off a few years after MacLean's original, when it was prominently featured in the movie soundtrack of The Last of the Mohicans.

Evening to remember: MacLean
met all the audience during the interval

During the first half of the evening, MacLean presented us with a trove of stories and songs from places near and far; from Clunie village hall to Alaska and Australia. His instruments included a didgeridoo, and fiddle, but mostly acoustic guitar. The Gael was played on fiddle, augmented by an instrumental backing track created by MacLean's son. After the refreshment break, MacLean scanned through the request notes he'd encouraged and played, among others, the haunting Broken Wings, and the moving This Love Will Carry.

MacLean has travelled the world and performed on stages large and small, but he has retained a down to earth approach. To see him on a tiny stage in an intimate and personal setting, and share a moment of his time at the interval break as he made a point of meeting every member of the audience, made it an evening to treasure.

Before we knew it, almost three hours had passed and it was time to leave. After we ventured from the village hall into the night, the songs and voice of MacLean, and the love he showed to all, carried us safely home.

Video: Dougie MacLean sings Caledonia at his studio.