A significant amount of my childhood was spent mentally begging George Lucas to make another Star Wars movie. Lucas failed to come through for me, but eventually, as advertised, Disney took it upon themselves to make all my dreams come true. The Force Awakens hit every item on my New Star Wars Movie Checklist (more alien dive bars, an obscenely sinister sith lord, a gratuitous droid duo cameo, a girl jedi). It was as if all the thoughts I tried to telepathically direct at Lucas got lost and wormed into J.J. Abrams’ subconscious.

But while The Force Awakens’ announcement had me squealing with excitement, Rogue One’s left me dubious. I knew I was going to see it – I have long since sold my soul to George’s galaxy far, far away – but I doubted I would really enjoy it. What could be interesting about a whole movie dedicated to the easily dispensable pawns whose only role is to die and set the stage for the main characters?
Pretty much all of that, it turns out. Star Wars has, for all of its decades-long existence, been a space opera. But, it’s been a space opera that is really just a galaxy-threatening family drama. I enjoy Keeping Up With the Skywalkers as much as the next fan, but I didn’t realize how much a break was needed until I was sitting down and watching it.

Disney’s answer to the age-old question, who was the idiot who designed a planet-sized space station to explode when someone shoots at an exhaust pipe, is lacking many elements of the typical Star Wars formula. There are zero jedi in the whole film, nor are there any aliens in the main cast (and by extension, no mind-numbingly annoying alien sidekicks). There isn’t even a dramatic discovery that a character is related to Anakin Skywalker. Or, as in the case of Anakin Skywalker himself, discovery that a character is the result of a virgin birth. Which was a real thing that happened in the previous Star Wars prequels. Hmm. Maybe a little deviation from the norm is okay.

But despite trying something new – Rogue One is the first Star Wars movie to actually feel like a movie about war – the aspects of the old that most entranced audiences still remain. The snark is with them, following in the grand tradition set by Leia Organa and Han Solo,and it is constant and charming. A spectacular final battle, both on the ground in Scarif and in the sky above it, is as tense and exciting as its predecessors (or is it successors?), despite every fan walking into the theatre knowing how it has to end. The side characters are so compelling you wish they had movies of their own. I’m looking at you, K-2SO, you beautiful, beautiful hunk of metal.

And, of course, Rogue One upholds the most venerated of Star Wars traditions – an angry, evil goth man stabs people to death with a red glow stick. Arguably in a manner superior to most other additions to the series. If Kylo Ren was watching, he would have cried tears of joy. If George Lucas deigned to watch it, he would probably just cry. I can’t think of a better commendation for a Star Wars movie than that.