Going somewhere, Solo? Star Wars bounces back.

I took the kids to see Solo with low expectations. We left the cinema elated, after the best Star Wars film since the 80s.

This was a surprise - a shock, even. For the most part, the films released since Return of the Jedi have been a succession of disappointments. Rogue One was an exception, but even it suffered from a garbled plot, especially in its early stages.

Three things distinguish Solo from the dismal catalogue that preceded it. The first is the quality of its script. Its plot is coherent and clear - even as it takes in a succession of twists, reversals and double-crosses. You always know what's going on, and you never have to reach for an extravagant justification for some unlikely action. The dialogue is fine; it bounces along like that of the original trilogy. And the characters are good: clear archetypes that give the actors something to get their teeth into, which is just what this sort of film needs. When Star Wars attempts complex characters, it ends up with brow-furrowed blandness. There's none of that here.

Second, the film steals from the best. Its main influences appear to be Westerns and cinematic classics like Casablanca and Le Salaire de la Peur - not other Star Wars films and the awful weight of geeky expectations. After the turgid Force-warblings of The Last Jedi, that's tremendously refreshing. The original Star Wars cheerfully plundered cinema's riches (especially the films of Akira Kurosawa and John Ford); with Solo, the series goes back to picking the pockets of the great rather than pompously cannibalising itself. Yes, there are innumerable nods to other films in the series, but they're deftly done and don't feel forced.

Third, Solo is light-hearted in a way that works. Unlike The Last Jedi, the humour fits the mood of the film. The jokes work because they don't undermine the setting (as Poe Dameron's prank call to Hux did last time out). Solo's tone is similar to the first couple of Indiana Jones films - and that's entirely appropriate. At the same time, this is a caper film in which sympathetic characters die and in which the horrors of an oppressive universe are clearly shown - whether it's the Dickensian street life of Corellia, the grimness of the slave-planet where the all-important fuel is produced or the finale's traumatised shanty-town with its mutilated inhabitants. The balance is maintained - and that's infinitely preferable to any amount of droning on about balance in the Force.

Indeed, I don't think the Force or jedis are ever mentioned in Solo, and that's also refreshing. A light dusting of cod-mysticism is all very well in Star Wars films: a training montage here, a spot of telekinetic strangulation there. But once you get into its deeper cosmological meanderings, it gets very tedious indeed. The Force's absence from Solo is welcome relief.

And Solo looks great too. It shows us backwater planets, grimy saloons and dusty townships. And it populates these enclaves with a tremendous range of squirming, grunting and growling entities. That's exactly what's needed from a series whose spiritual heart has always been Mos Eisley.

And on that note, we get not one but two nods to the first film's showdown with Greedo. Han shoots first, of course.