Like him or not, Zack Snyder has undeniably spent his career pushing the boundaries of what a blockbuster film epic can be.
Few directors since Michael Bay have so eagerly infused hyper-modern pop filmmaking with maximalist zeal and disregard for tonal restraint. The most compelling tension in Snyder's films lies not in their intergalactic stakes, but the age-old battle between reckless visionary artists and the Hollywood executives trying to rein them in.
His trials with Warner Brothers have been extensive and well-documented – none more so than 2017's Justice League debacle, which prompted the director to chart a course for the promised land of online streaming, where filmmakers like Martin Scorsese and Noah Baumbach have enjoyed studio-sized budgets without the interference.
At least that's how the sales pitch goes.
The reality is that Rebel Moon – Part Two: The Scargiver is, by the director's own admission, a product of considerable compromise that saw a broader vision scaled down for the viewing habits of Netflix subscribers.
The previous film was a never-ending title crawl of sci-fi world-building, none of which particularly mattered because the set-up is, fundamentally, Seven Samurai meets Star Wars.
There's an interstellar empire called the Motherworld run by space-Nazi unit Imperium, and a humble farming planet called Veldt on its outskirts. When an Imperium admiral, Atticus Noble (Ed Skrein; Deadpool), threatens to enslave its people for their ongoing war effort, an infamous renegade by the name of Kora (Sofia Boutella; Climax) brings together a team of warriors from across the stars to defend the villagers.
Scargiver (a title surely inspired by Luke Skywalker's original surname) opens with the space squad landing on Veldt, and Atticus Noble reborn from a viscous cocoon following his demise at the last film's end. With only a matter of days until Imperium arrives to collect the planet's latest harvest, Kora and company must prepare the villagers for an impending attack.
On top of aestheticising sculpted bodies, wanton destruction and phallic weaponry, Snyder spends half the film luxuriating in wheat fields amidst toiling bodies.
The languorous stretches spent with the villagers is, to some extent, a welcome respite from a director who rarely spares a thought for the non-demigods of the world. Yet, there's so little reason to care. Despite the combined 4-plus-hour run time of both Rebel Moon films, characterisations are thin on the ground, even for our main group of heroes.
Its reported $170 million budget also feels poorly utilised. For all of the director's visual excesses, his theatrical films have rarely looked cheap; meanwhile, his attempt at weaving introspective visual poetry from the pastoral setting resembles the kind of stock footage typically seen in a 4K TV demo.
After several interminable hours spent dashing across the galaxy and collecting grain, Rebel Moon finally launches into its climactic siege.
Spaceships are sabotaged, neon laser swords clash, torrents of gunfire streak across the village, and slow-mo sacrifices abound. The fireworks are passably entertaining, but none of it feels novel.
The key problem with making a Star Wars clone is that Disney has spent the last decade running Star Wars into the ground across various sequels, spin-offs and miniseries. We have never been more overrun by Star Wars content in the history of humankind, all of which is just as easily streamed.
Even the attempt at folding Star Wars back into its Akira Kurosawa influence feels more like navel-gazing than innovation. It's not difficult to imagine why this idea was initially rejected by Disney.
Snyder's take is certainly edgier and darker, sporting a visual design that suggests "nu-metal music video" more than "space opera". It's a shame that this version of the film has been stripped clean of blood and guts, which would at least add some much-needed grit and juvenile charm to this glossy, green-screen fantasy.
Yet it's hard to believe that the director's six-hour unrated cut will be worth watching when it finally arrives – at least at its extraordinary run time.
The potential of watching Snyder indulge in his wildest creative dreams with limited studio oversight once felt exciting, but his transition to streaming has only served to highlight his weaknesses as a director. He excels in transposing comic-book compositions and iconography to the big screen, and dramatically fails as an original storyteller.
Rebel Moon's expansion from a three-hour space opera into a 4-plus-hour, two-part event (in which crucial connective tissue is still glaringly absent) represents a failure for both the director and the streamer that enabled him.
In a final moment of irony, the whole saga ends not with a sense of finality, but with a sudden twist that sets up multiple sequels. You have to at least admire the optimism.
Rebel Moon — Part 2: The Scargiver is streaming now on Netflix.
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