Alba90

L3-37, the revolutionary droid, was one of the franchise's most compelling and unique characters-and yet, she was treated with a level of disregard that feels deeply unsettling. Her story, rich with themes of liberation, self-determination, and agency, was reduced to an afterthought, undermined by the very narrative that could have championed her cause.

L3-37 wasn't just another quirky sidekick. She was a droid who had elevated herself, upgrading from an astromech to a being of immense personality and passion. Her activism for droid emancipation was a bold addition to Star Wars, bringing to light the franchise's long-ignored moral conundrum: the blatant mistreatment of droids. From restraining bolts to memory wipes, droids are consistently portrayed as property-second-class citizens in a galaxy that depends on their labor while denying their autonomy.

The tragedy of L3-37 is not just in her death but in how the story trivializes her character. Her fight for droid liberation is framed as absurd, and her revolutionary spirit is reduced to comic relief. Even her death is a mere plot device to give Han Solo his iconic moment in the pilot seat. Lando's brief grief is quickly brushed aside, replaced by a cavalier tone that signals to the audience that her sacrifice doesn't really matter. And the final insult? Imprisoning her consciousness in the Millennium Falcon-a ship to be gambled away, flown, and fought over like any other object.

This is a heartbreaking end for a character who represented so much. L3-37's story could have been a powerful allegory for liberation, personhood, and the ethics of artificial intelligence. Instead, it was a missed opportunity, emblematic of how Star Wars struggles with consistency in its portrayal of droids. The franchise wants us to care for droids when it suits the narrative but dismisses their agency and personhood when inconvenient.

L3-37 deserved more. She deserved respect, depth, and a story that fully embraced the revolutionary ideas she embodied. Her treatment in Solo is a reminder of how often stories about liberation are trivialized, especially when told through characters who challenge the status quo. It's a tragedy-not just for L3-37 but for all the droids in Star Wars who are written as disposable tools rather than the sentient beings they clearly are.

Let L3-37's story spark conversations about the ethics of artificial intelligence, labor, and autonomy-topics that transcend the galaxy far, far away and strike at the heart of how we view personhood, freedom, and justice. She may have been written off, but her voice, however brief, still matters.

As someone unfamiliar with Maria Callas and not particularly interested in opera, I went into Maria with no expectations. However, I hoped the film would provide more context about her life and career to help viewers like me understand her significance. Unfortunately, the fragmented storytelling made it challenging to fully connect with her journey.

The flashbacks, could have been more impactful if they followed a linear plot to show the progression of Callas's career and personal struggles. I found it difficult to grasp the complexity of her character, her artistic process, and the reasons behind her pride, regret, and self-doubt. Her stoic expressions and the lack of emotional depth in some moments made it harder to empathize with her inner conflicts and love story-if there was one.

That said, the production design was beautiful, and Angelina Jolie delivered an impressive performance, despite the challenges of lip-syncing opera, which at times felt slightly off. I admire Jolie as an actress and will continue to watch her films. Maria is as much a meditation on mortality as it is a tribute to Callas, but for me, it left too many unanswered questions about the woman behind the voice.