Rian Johnson, the director at the heart of Star Wars’ most passionate arguments, is once again openly expressing his enthusiasm for returning to the iconic universe.
For many, this signals a possible resurgence of bold, auteur-driven storytelling in blockbuster science fiction.
Yet for anyone who spent time online in 2017 or in the years since, the massive divisions sparked by Johnson’s The Last Jedi remain unforgettable. The second film of the Disney-era sequel trilogy, The Last Jedi, did over $1.3 billion in global box office receipts, but nothing could outshine the intensity of debate it provoked.
Its handling of legacy characters, especially a world-weary Luke Skywalker, and scenes like Leia’s Force-powered survival led to both glowing praise and furious condemnation from lifelong fans and newcomers alike.
For some, Johnson’s subversion of expectations was long overdue and reinvigorated a franchise at risk of creative stagnation. For others, it “insulted the franchise’s legacy” and left trust shattered, made worse when The Rise of Skywalker retreated from several of Johnson’s dramatic choices.
Social media magnified disagreements further, transforming directorial intent and screenplay risk-taking into full-blown online battlegrounds. Despite all the drama, Johnson’s stock as a filmmaker has continued to rise with the success of Knives Out and Poker Face, confirming his skill outside the space saga.
His active love for Star Wars and willingness to return now suggest both personal resilience and creative confidence. But Johnson’s mere interest reopens old wounds that Disney and Lucasfilm have struggled to heal, as demonstrated by continued debates and petitions across internet forums and fan groups.
Profit, Power, and Disney’s Franchise Gamble
For Disney and Lucasfilm , the question of who should steer the next era is more than artistic; it’s existential.
Controversy around Johnson was hardly unique: directors from Phil Lord and Chris Miller to Patty Jenkins and even Gareth Edwards have faced hiring, firing, or drastic changes as Lucasfilm under Kathleen Kennedy attempted to balance creative risk with commercial stability.
The company has often struggled to retain visionary directors, fueling criticism that the franchise is adrift or overly reactive to internet outrage.
Rian Johnson (Credit: CNN)
Despite the uproar, The Last Jedi stands as the second-most profitable film of the recent trilogy, only behind The Force Awakens and well ahead of The Rise of Skywalker. This suggests that creativity and controversy do not always spell financial disaster.
However, Disney has grown cautious; there’s been a noticeable halt in new Star Wars films since 2019, with attention shifting to streaming titles and a more calculated plan for cinematic releases in the future.
Johnson’s early announcement as architect of a new trilogy remains in limbo, its fate undefined even after years of rumors and frequent statements of mutual interest from both Johnson and Star Wars boss Kathleen Kennedy.
As Kennedy prepares to step down from Lucasfilm, the next franchise leader will face immense pressure to define a strategy that addresses both toxic infighting and a thirst for creative freshness among fans and filmmakers alike.
All signs point to Disney seeking reassurance that the next director won’t face the revolving door or high-profile backlashes of the past decade.
But if the company is willing to let visionary directors truly lead, Johnson could again shape the mythology of the galaxy far, far away and possibly reshape the conversation around risk, reward, and the future of big-budget storytelling.
Future Possibilities for the Star Wars Saga
Others, particularly critics and chunks of the younger fanbase, still champion his willingness to break formula and interrogate character myths. The possibility of Johnson’s return, especially as Disney and new leadership look to rebuild momentum for 2026’s cinema relaunch, is certain to intensify speculation and debate.
As Kathleen Kennedy steps down and Disney’s confidence in high-risk directors is tested, any decision to bring Johnson back will require more than nostalgia or contrarian appeal; it will reflect a hard calculation about the kind of Star Wars stories worth telling.
Whether that means restoring Johnson’s bold vision, pivoting entirely to safer crowd-pleasers, or seeking a middle path remains the franchise’s most urgent question.
But as of now, Johnson’s hope for a return has reminded fans, critics, and executives that the power of Star Wars’ mythos isn’t just in its box office, it’s in the relentless, passionate debate it still inspires, nearly fifty years after that iconic opening crawl.
When Arrow launched on the CW in 2013, Oliver Queen’s transformation from trust-fund playboy to vengeful vigilante marked a shift for superhero television.
Instead of the quippy, goatee-sporting activist from decades of DC Comics, viewers got a haunted, brooding figure who spent years off the grid and then built a squad to take back his corrupted city.
This TV Oliver showed grit and trauma; his years on Lian Yu grew into the main mythos, while his leadership in Team Arrow became the show’s emotional spine.
Yet, for all the intensity and high-stakes action, Arrow’s version of Queen was rarely aligned with its iconic comic roots. The comics’ Oliver Queen has been a social crusader and outspoken liberal ever since writers like Dennis O’Neil and Mike Grell recast him as a fiery activist in the 1970s.
His comic stories abound with calls for racial justice, takedowns of corporate greed, and fierce debates with fellow heroes. In Arrow, though, those politics were mostly missing in action. Season after season focused on personal drama and the ethics of vigilantism, not systemic change or ideologically driven battles.
Even Arrow’s long-haul storytelling, such as the death and rebirth themes, or Queen’s raw personal journey, kept Oliver fundamentally separate from his comic legacy. This was a purposeful creative choice: the show aimed to present a stripped-down, “grounded” hero in a post-Batman TV climate.
But in doing so, Arrow made Oliver Queen less an activist and more a stoic action figure, marking a surprising step away from one of DC’s most principled icons.
A Single Flash of Comic Truth: Oliver’s Mayoral Season
Arrow spent five seasons building Oliver Queen into Star City’s shadowy defender, but it was only in Season 5 that the real comic Oliver Queen showed up, even if only for a brief narrative window.
In the comics, Queen’s stint as mayor represents a critical moment: he tries to transform his city’s future, urges progressive policies, and fights for causes bigger than himself. Fans of comic Green Arrow know that his political activism surfaces in everything from his corporate decisions to his crime-fighting priorities.
Arrowverse (Credit: Wikipedia)
Arrow’s TV version briefly mirrored this, with Oliver elected as Star City’s mayor. For the first and only time, that political storyline edged into the spotlight. Oliver’s office struggles and attempts at city-wide reforms gave viewers a taste of the original character’s priorities. But even this storyline fell short of the comic blueprint.
Unlike in comics, where Oliver’s activism is persistent and outspoken, the show focuses much more on his internal drama and threats to his family and identity. The potential for showcasing lasting political impact, one of Oliver Queen’s defining comic traits, was largely sidelined.
The mayor storyline introduced legislative dilemmas, challenges from Queen’s enemies, and brief moments of civic responsibility.
However, rather than influencing meaningful systemic change or revealing deep ideological convictions, the narrative used Oliver’s political role mainly as plot fuel for continuing action sequences and interpersonal conflict.
Comic fans recognized the DNA of their Green Arrow, but the Arrowverse version never truly embraced these roots. Outside of this arc, Oliver Queen quickly slid back into his established TV pattern: a determined vigilante, untethered from the radical political legacy that shaped the Green Arrow mythos.
Why Arrowverse’s Oliver Queen Remains a Political Phantom
The divide between Arrow’s vigilantism-focused Queen and his outspoken comic counterpart left passionate discussions swirling in fan spaces for years.
On sites like Reddit, viewers debated whether “Arrow’s Oliver Queen” ever embodied the real “Green Arrow” from the source material, especially with the show’s tendency to lean Batman-lite, rather than a bold, left-leaning hero.
Even showrunner interviews and retrospectives echo the reality that Arrow’s Queen could have been pulled from a totally different character sheet than the comics.
This disconnect isn’t accidental. The Arrowverse used Oliver Queen as a backbone for its shared universe, prioritizing interconnected storytelling and personal stakes over ideology or activism.
By downplaying Oliver’s politics, Arrow allowed audiences to relate to his personal battles and crises, but also lost what made him one of the most controversial, inspiring, and singular DC heroes. Oliver’s social justice crusades in comics often sparked tension, fueled real-world debate, and challenged his Super Friends.
His Arrowverse journey, though, bypassed those moments almost entirely, showing how adaptation choices can reshape a character at their core.
As the Arrowverse draws to a close, one thing stands clear: Oliver Queen, as comics fans know him, only truly appeared once, and even then, it was a fleeting glimpse. For viewers wondering if the show ever captured the essence of DC’s Green Arrow, Season 5’s mayoral turn is the solitary evidence.
The rest was an inventive, action-packed reimagining, sometimes heroic, sometimes divisive, always a bit removed from the real Oliver Queen.
