Luke Skywalker Archives - The Wide Screen

June 1, 2022June 2, 2022

“Obi-Wan Kenobi” Gets Off To A Slow Start With First 2 Episodes

**SPOILERS FOR KENOBI EPISODES ONE AND TWO AHEAD!**

If Lucasfilm plans to rely on Disney+ original series’ like The Mandalorian, The Bad Batch, The Book Of Boba Fett, and now Obi-Wan Kenobi, to keep the Star Wars franchise fresh in peoples’ minds while they work out where to go with the films following the conclusion of the Skywalker Saga and the poor reception to The Rise Of Skywalker, then I’m going to need the writers and showrunners of these series’ to get some fresh ideas because I genuinely don’t know how many more world-weary middle-aged single father figures to rambunctious children I can take from a franchise that has literally all the space in the galaxy to do something different but won’t because it worked that one time in The Mandalorian.

And Pedro Pascal did it really well in The Mandalorian season one, to be fair, which is why we all fell in love with the trope in the first place and presumably why Pascal is now being typecast as world-weary middle-aged single father figures to rambunctious children even outside of Star Wars. But in the two years since The Mandalorian debuted, with the exception of The Clone Wars‘ final season, the anthology series Star Wars: Visions, and a couple of Lego holiday specials, Star Wars has shifted focus entirely to making stories about – and seemingly targeted at – middle-aged dads.

Is that necessarily a bad thing? No, of course not. It’s not even necessarily indicative of lazy storytelling, because there are many different types of middle-aged dads to be found in this world, and even more to be found amongst the stars, so it stands to reason that there should be a number of subtly different stories to be told about middle-aged dads, each one unique in its own way and worth telling. But I do think it’s worth examining why Star Wars has become…shall we say, a little bit obsessed with this trope recently, before I get into my thoughts on the first two episodes of Kenobi, specifically.

If Star Wars had a long history of telling stories about middle-aged dads/father figures with small children, it would be one thing, but discounting all of the Legends material that Disney decanonized and looking solely at the movies and series’ released prior to The Mandalorian in 2019, there really aren’t that many dads…in fact, absent fathers and the absence of fathers are two recurring themes in the Skywalker Saga, which begins with Anakin Skywalker being born out of a sci-fi Immaculate Conception, then becoming a remote and unapproachable figure in the lives of his children, then being exhumed by his grandson Ben as a stand-in father figure for Ben’s own neglectful father, Han Solo. The cycle theoretically breaks with Rey, an orphan who adopts the Skywalker name and becomes the spiritual descendant of Anakin Skywalker, but sadly we never learned enough about her as a character to say with certainty what she’d be like as a parent.

Then you’ve got the mentors like Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Luke Skywalker, who will inevitably become the single most important person in the lives of their apprentices after about fifteen minutes of training before dying…but it’s hard to call any of these men (or in Yoda’s case, male-coded aliens) father figures. Maybe Qui-Gon Jinn, but even when Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) calls out to the Force-ghost of his former Jedi master in the first two episodes of Kenobi, I don’t hear the desperation of a son needing a father’s advice, but rather a student seeking the approval of a respected teacher.

After Qui-Gon’s death in A Phantom Menace, I think Obi-Wan tried to be both a mentor and a father figure to Anakin Skywalker, but he was never able to enforce the Jedi Code because of his own complicated relationship with the damn thing, and gradually Anakin started to regard him as a lenient older brother – one whom he loved deeply, but whose guidance he rarely ever felt he needed. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to extrapolate from this that Obi-Wan regarded Anakin’s son Luke as a nephew, especially when you look at their interactions in A New Hope. As for Luke, his relationship with his own students appears to have always been impersonal.

What was my point again? Oh yeah, dads don’t exist in Star Wars; at least as far as the Skywalkers are concerned (in case you’re wondering, moms do exist, but they either die in childbirth like Padmé Amidala or live long enough to become silent, stoic spectators in their sons’ lives, like Shmi Skywalker and even Leia Organa). But then The Mandalorian introduced Baby Yoda into our lives, and nothing has been the same since. Now, every middle-aged man in Star Wars has a child. Crucially, they’re never the biological fathers of these children – because Star Wars is about found-family, and there is something truly touching about characters from vastly different backgrounds forming profound emotional connections.

And for the most part, the trope has worked. I’ve made it clear in the past that, despite my gripes with The Mandalorian‘s sluggish pacing, I am deeply invested in the story of disillusioned bounty hunter Din Djarin coming to care for his pint-sized sidekick Grogu over the course of two seasons. I thought it was adorable when the battle-hardened clones of the Bad Batch adopted the experimental clone Omega and made her feel at home in their tight-knit family unit. I had far bigger issues with The Book Of Boba Fett than Fett randomly taking a teeny-bopper biker gang in off the streets of Mos Eisley (I never wrote about the show because, frankly, it bored me to death).

But my issues with Kenobi, while not limited to fatigue at the overuse of this trope, stem from the showrunners’ perplexing decision to put Kenobi through the single dad filter and saddle him with a small child – a ten-year old Princess Leia Organa (Vivien Lyra Blair), to be precise, kidnapped by mercenaries in the first episode and whisked away to a remote planet in an attempt to lure Kenobi out of hiding. That could have been a unique premise for some kind of sci-fi heist thriller, but Leia stays kidnapped for maybe twenty minutes total before Kenobi locates her in a storage unit, easily incapacitates her guards, and escapes.

Episode two concludes with the two characters returning to Alderaan, crisis seemingly averted, but it’s implied that they’ll get held up or forced to take a detour so that Obi-Wan Kenobi can learn an important life-lesson from Leia before they part ways – and so that Leia has a chance to meet her biological dad and Kenobi’s pursuer, Darth Vader (Hayden Christensen & James Earl Jones). She won’t be aware she’s just met her biological father, mind you, but fans will be and that’s all that really matters to Lucasfilm; at least based on the staggering number of thoroughly pointless callbacks and namedrops in these first two episodes.

Indeed, the stage is already set for just such an encounter, with ten-year old Leia struggling to reconcile her responsibilities as an Organa with her impulsivity, relentless curiosity, and recklessness – traits apparently common to all Skywalkers. She hates being cooped up in the royal palace, and frustrates her adoptive mother Breha (Simone Kessel) by skipping out on brunches with her cartoonishly pretentious cousins to go climb trees in the forest and watch starships all day, accompanied by an annoyingly cute droid that seems purposefully designed to sell merchandise. Every one of Leia’s scenes is written as if we don’t already know and weren’t literally just reminded in the recap preceding the episode that Leia is, in fact, still a Skywalker, but how could we forget when the characters stop dead in their tracks to tell us that Leia reminds them of someone (Anakin and Padmé. Don’t bother guessing or reading into it, it’s Anakin and Padmé).

Side-note, but there’s something extremely frustrating about the implication that most of Leia’s defining character traits come from her biological parents and not her adoptive parents who actually raised her, loved her, and gave her the life Anakin Skywalker was never going to be able to provide for her. Bail Organa (Jimmy Smits) has a lovely little monologue in the first episode to the general effect of “family is the people you choose, not the people chosen for you”, but his words are undermined by all the callbacks to the Skywalkers that serve only to pull focus from his and his wife’s contributions to the making of Princess Leia as we know her.

Kenobi‘s premise allows its writers to indulge in the kind of incessant namedrops and thinly-veiled references to other movies that quickly become cringeworthy than cute, but the blatant abuse of nostalgia works if the end-goal is to force viewers to look past the poor pacing, lackluster dialogue, and other technical and story issues. Forget that you just watched the same long, slow montage of Obi-Wan Kenobi taking the bus home from work and feeding his alien camel three times – there’s Temuera Morrison, cameoing as a clone trooper of the 501st! There’s that toy starship that Luke Skywalker played with in A New Hope exactly once, and it even has a completely unnecessary backstory now! That guy’s the Grand Inquisitor (Rupert Friend) from Star Wars: Rebels!

Now, to be fair, I was excited for the Grand Inquisitor – even after the trailers gave it away that his distinctive character design hadn’t made the jump from animation to live-action particularly well. I was certainly not expecting his character to be rendered incompetent and seemingly killed off near the end of the second episode, several years before the events of Rebels season one. Regardless of whether he’s dead or alive, however, one thing became clear to me in the moment that Reva (Moses Ingram) impaled him and left his body on the floor of a cargo-bay; Kenobi is probably not aimed at fans of Rebels.

Nor is it designed to appeal to fans of the sequel trilogy. If I had to guess, I’d say that Kenobi is a last-ditch effort by Lucasfilm to try and win back the people most likely to have disliked Rebels and outright despised the sequel trilogy – middle-aged men, particularly those with strong emotional attachments to the characters and settings from the original trilogy and prequel trilogy we’ve seen popping up on Disney+ in all the aforementioned dad-centric Star Wars shows. How much of that is Favreau’s obsession with recapturing the original trilogy’s aesthetics and Filoni’s desire to redeem the public image of the prequels as part of a commitment to George Lucas, and how much of that is Lucasfilm learning all the wrong lessons from the poor reception to the sequel trilogy? I wish I knew.

Favreau and Filoni’s fingerprints are all over Kenobi, although they weren’t involved in the show until surprisingly late in the writing process. Ironically, it’s been confirmed that they were enlisted to tweak the show’s scripts after noticing troubling similarities to The Mandalorian, which raises the question of how much of a blatant Mandalorian rip-off Kenobi must have been that even its revised version still plays out like a Mandalorian rip-off, hitting most of the same beats and falling into all the same traps. Filoni also took the opportunity to insert the Grand Inquisitor, one of his own original characters, into the script (which, come to think of it, might explain why the writers killed him off first chance they got). And of course, Kenobi director Deborah Chow is one of Favreau and Filoni’s recruits, having worked on The Mandalorian season one.

It’s truly unfortunate that Chow and her talented cast are burdened with a writer’s room at war with itself, because here and there are glimmers of what Kenobi could be if it only knew what it was trying to be, and how to get to that point swiftly and directly. In Obi-Wan Kenobi’s self-imposed exile on Tatooine, I see the potential for a raw and unflinching character study, something wholly unlike anything we’ve seen before in Star Wars. You want to throw Darth Vader in there too, explore Kenobi’s guilt over losing his closest friend – his brother – to the Dark Side and the toll of isolation on a mind already fractured by that kind of anguish, sure! I’d be down for that.

Or…we could do another show about a grumpy middle-aged guy and a small child working together to fight bad guys while running around the galaxy. That works too, I guess. It’s just…not the kind of Obi-Wan Kenobi story I would have expected to be set after his self-imposed exile on Tatooine, that’s all. It makes you wonder why Kenobi would go back to Tatooine after this is over if he realizes now that Leia is every bit as important as Luke and requires the same constant surveillance to ensure that someone doesn’t…I don’t know, kidnap her again. Not like the high-profile daughter of a senator publicly opposed to the Empire’s authoritarianism might be in constant danger or anything.

I can nitpick stupid stuff like that, but we’d be here all day and it wouldn’t get us anywhere because ultimately, my problem with Kenobi is just that I’m not feeling the decision to make it another single dad story in the style of The Mandalorian, but I can’t fully explain why, even to myself. I just know it’s not working for me yet and I’m getting a bit tired of the trope, but if you enjoy all these stories about single dads, or if you can relate to them on an emotional level, or if you just think single dads are attractive, more power to you.

I debated publishing this post because I hate to be critical of something that people seem to be having a fun time with, especially when my issues with it aren’t concrete, but hey, it happens sometimes. I don’t like everything that Marvel’s been putting out lately, either, and it’s caused me to stop writing as frequently about either franchise.

Oh, one last thing before I go. I want to make it abundantly clear that regardless of your opinions on Kenobi, you should be able to express those opinions without resorting to racism, sexism, and other forms of bullying….and if, for whatever reason, you feel like you can’t, then there’s a better than even chance that you are a racist, a sexist, and a bully. And I will not tolerate the harassment of the show’s actors, who are just doing their jobs and putting in good performances, I might add, so if you’re tempted to spew that nonsense in my comments section, I will delete your comments and block you expeditiously.

Episode Rating: 5.5/10

March 10, 2022

“Kenobi” 1st Teaser Trailer Takes The Hermit Hero On One Last Joyride

**SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS: REBELS AND JEDI: FALLEN ORDER AHEAD!**

An intergalactic manhunt is afoot in the first teaser trailer for Lucasfilm’s long-awaited Kenobi series, coming to Disney+ this May on the 45th anniversary of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s very first appearance in Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope (at the time just Star Wars). Kenobi himself is one of the two primary targets of this manhunt, but the series looks to be so broad in scope from the trailer alone that I wouldn’t be at all surprised if several other Jedi show up – hiding in various far-flung corners of the galaxy, but leaving in their wake a “trail of compassion” that corrupted Jedi named Inquisitors know how to follow to its source.

This teaser trailer, with its heavy focus on the characters around Kenobi and their actions, gives me the distinct feeling that Obi-Wan Kenobi isn’t the driving force behind most of the main events in this series, which doesn’t surprise me all that much. I mean, his name is in the title, so I have to assume he’s at least somewhat integral to the story Lucasfilm has chosen to tell through his unique viewpoint, but (a) they also marketed The Book Of Boba Fett as a Boba Fett show, and…that was a lie, and (b) it’s not like Kenobi is a character who can freely move around the galaxy the same way Din Djarin can in The Mandalorian.

I mean that literally (for Kenobi to leave Tatooine even briefly gives the Inquisitors so many opportunities to track him that it’s a risk he can surely only afford to take once or twice), but I also mean it in the sense that Kenobi’s place in the Star Wars canon is fixed, whereas Din Djarin’s is fluid. No matter what actions Kenobi takes, he will still need to end up back on Tatooine in hiding because…that’s where we meet him in A New Hope. Wherever his journey takes him, he’s tethered to Tatooine – as is the Star Wars franchise as a whole, but that’s a different conversation.

When the source material doesn’t provide a solution to this problem (and in this case there’s very little source material, and even less of it is still canon), the answer is always to create original characters who can move freely, and who aren’t quite as limited in what they can say or do. Kenobi gives us the Inquisitor Reva, seemingly an antagonist but one with her own point-of-view and a large role that transcends the action on Tatooine and at the Citadel Inquisitorius. That also puts her in a position where she could bridge the gap between Obi-Wan Kenobi and his nemesis Darth Vader without the two ever needing to interact onscreen.

I fear that the temptation to just go full fan-service will prove too strong for Star Wars to resist, and that Kenobi and Vader will actually clash in a lightsaber battle that might be epic to witness, but will be robbed of any stakes by the knowledge that both these characters walk away unscathed, physically and emotionally – because by the time of A New Hope, when Vader tells Kenobi that “when I left you, I was but the learner, now I am the master”, he’s explicitly referring to their duel in Revenge Of The Sith, and Kenobi doesn’t rebut that statement (well, he does, but only to tell Vader that he’s become a “master of evil”, not to remind him that they actually had some other duel the Sith lord has forgotten about).

So any fight scene inserted between the two films must ultimately make so little impact on the characters involved that they fail to even remember it a mere fifteen years later, which makes it unnecessary filler – worse than a retcon, as it literally adds nothing to their dynamic and would instead strip away a layer of what was already there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always down for a lightsaber battle, but if Kenobi has to fight anyone, I’d prefer it to be Reva or another Inquisitor – perhaps even the Grand Inquisitor.

Set to make his live-action debut in Kenobi after first appearing in the animated series Star Wars: Rebels, the Grand Inquisitor was a Pau’an Jedi Knight who turned to the Dark Side and assisted Darth Vader in hunting Jedi during the twenty years between Revenge Of The Sith and A New Hope. He ultimately killed himself after failing to capture the Jedi Kanan Jarrus, deeming that Vader’s wrath would be worse than death, but Kenobi catches up with him at the height of his reign of terror.

As Rebels fans have been quick to point out, he looks a bit…different. Not worse, necessarily, just…different. His head is more round than it is elongated, which has led to a lot of (probably unfair) comparisons to the live-action Pau’ans who appeared in Revenge Of The Sith with elongated heads and looked more like the Grand Inquisitor than Kenobi‘s version of the character. But what’s important to remember is that those Pau’ans were side characters who never did any fighting. I’m not a stunt choreographer, but I have a sneaking suspicion that top-heavy Pau’an heads, much like Togruta tendrils, aren’t exactly conducive to jumping and twirling and stunts in general.

Ultimately, as long as the Grand Inquisitor is appropriately terrifying in live-action, that’s all that really matters. On the flip-side, Kenobi has an opportunity to flesh out the Grand Inquisitor’s character – and all the Inquisitors, for that matter – in a way that Rebels never did. The Jedi: Fallen Order video game franchise has done slightly more in that regard, even featuring a morally conflicted Inquisitor named Trilla Suduri, but we still know surprisingly little about these former Jedi who chose to devote themselves to the task of hunting and killing people who used to be their friends, mentors, and apprentices.

The Grand Inquisitor, for instance, was a Jedi Temple Guard who fell to the dark side after witnessing the Jedi Order’s harsh treatment of Ahsoka Tano during the Clone Wars. His real name, the name of his Jedi master, and all details regarding his training are a mystery. Rebels‘ Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother, the latter of whom will reappear in Kenobi, are even more enigmatic. But the fact that Reva even has a name attached to her character, a name that represents a tangible attachment to her past life (one she’s perhaps unwilling to sever?), gives me hope that, like Trilla Suduri, she’ll be a three-dimensional character in stark contrast to her uniform Brothers and Sisters.

Pulling the strings behind all the Inquisitors is the shadowy figure of Darth Vader, whose true identity is still a mystery at this point in the timeline – one to which audiences already know the answer, mind you, but watching characters in-universe come to the same realization on their own never fails to make me emotional. And if Ahsoka’s reaction when she found out was devastating, then the mixture of guilt, anger, and heartbreak that Obi-Wan Kenobi is sure to feel when he first hears of the reappearance of Darth Vader and starts connecting dots is going to be…a lot.

Interestingly, the question of when and how Kenobi discovered that Anakin Skywalker was still alive following the events of Revenge Of The Sith has never properly been answered – not by the current Star Wars canon, at least. That offers the Kenobi series at least one key plot-point around which to construct an early episode, leaving several more in which the character can grapple with the ramifications of his discovery and ultimately make up his mind to seek out Darth Vader, who at this point in the timeline is still the stuff of rumors; the full extent of his power having not yet been revealed to the galaxy.

I know everyone is gearing up for the rematch of the century between Kenobi and Vader, and I also know that the discourse around this show will be unbearable because the two characters will either never meet, leading a certain demographic of fans to complain that their demands aren’t being met and that Star Wars (but like, especially Kathleen Kennedy) hates the fans, or they will meet, and it will create a whole bunch of weird plot-holes, or they’ll fight in some kind of vision and fans will be split down the middle on whether they’re satisfied by it. It’s gonna be a mess regardless.

But hey, I love a good mess. And frankly, without Jon Favreau attached in any capacity, I actually have higher hopes for Kenobi than for most of Lucasfilm’s other Disney+ series’, which have recently begun to suffer from their monotonous stylistic consistency and obsession with Tatooine, as evidenced by The Book Of Boba Fett‘s failure to hold audiences’ interest (including mine). Kenobi, ironically, is the one series that arguably ought to stick to a Tatooine setting but is instead choosing to take its famously cloistered protagonist on one last spin around the galaxy – and we’ll just have to wait and see whether this approach pays off.

Trailer Review: 8/10

December 18, 2020

“The Mandalorian” Post-Credits Scene Reveals A Surprise 10th Spinoff!

**SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN AHEAD!**

My complete review of The Mandalorian‘s season two finale went up earlier today, and I had plenty to say about my deeply conflicted feelings on the entire episode. As a loving and only slightly passive aggressive nod to the way in which The Mandalorian‘s showrunners and writing team have seemingly structured seasons two and three as a two-parter (because there’s no way the cliffhanger “ending” we got works for the self-contained story that the series liked to claim it was up until this point), I have similarly composed my thoughts into two separate posts, which exist symbiotically. The first dealt with the episode itself: the second, the one you’re reading right now, is all about that shocking post-credits scene.

A post-credits scene that, to be honest, I would have completely missed if I didn’t have a habit of watching through the credits – partly because, as someone who reviews films and TV, it’s important to know about the talented individuals who pour their heart and soul into making entertainment possible; partly because it’s an instinctive thing, from the days when Marvel movies still existed. I also had a feeling that, even though Star Wars hasn’t (to my knowledge) experimented with post-credits scenes before, there had to be something there, because the finale itself ended without any big stinger – whereas season one concluded with the iconic shot of Moff Gideon standing atop his wrecked TIE-fighter with the Darksaber in hand. No way was season two going to end with any less dramatic reveal.

What season two went for, however, was completely unexpected. The scene takes place back on Tatooine, presumably only a short while after the events of the finale, in a very specific location that Star Wars fans know well: the mountaintop monastery once possessed by Jabba the Hutt and transformed into his personal palace, den of vice, and center of his flourishing crime empire. I’d always just assumed the place was abandoned after Jabba’s death by strangulation and the destruction of his entire court, but apparently not – and even more shockingly, it seems that members of his inner circle outlived the Huttese crime lord: most notably Jabba’s former majordomo, the pale and sickly-looking Twi’lek, Bib Fortuna (voiced by Matthew Wood this time around, and easily one of the top ten most hideous Star Wars characters even before his transformation in this scene), who it seems survived the attack on Jabba’s pleasure-barge and took over for the deceased Hutt, carrying on his vile legacy. This is the first reference to Fortuna’s survival in the new Disney canon, but the outdated Legends canon long ago confirmed that the Twi’lek escaped the barge’s explosion in a sand-skiff and took control of the palace before his death.

Fortuna was tall and thin during the events of Return Of The Jedi, but in just the five years since the Empire fell, he has become a pale, bloated shadow of his master’s former glory, perched atop the Hutt’s dais with his massive lekku horns encircling his whole upper body. A few miserable-looking individuals wander around his palace looking bored, while a single Twi’lek slave sits chained to Fortuna’s throne.

And that’s where Boba Fett (Temuera Morrison) and Fennec Shand (Ming-Na Wen) suddenly come in, quickly defeating the slight resistance from Fortuna’s followers. As they come down the stairs, there’s a truly touching and memorable interaction between Fennec Shand and the Twi’lek slave, who struggles to unwind herself from the royal dais – a callback to the Twi’lek dancer who valiantly tried to strangle Jabba in Return Of The Jedi, before being fed to the Rankor beast beneath the palace floor. This time around, Fennec simply shoots the chains, exchanging a sympathetic and understanding look with the escaping Twi’lek before turning to the urgent business at hand.

Bib Fortuna briefly tries to plead his case, putting on an air of excessive friendliness when welcoming Boba Fett, who wastes no time shooting him in the chest and kicking his body off the dais. I imagine we’ve seen the last of this bizarre and truly repulsive character, but I guess it’s always possible we could see another story from Legends adapted: the one in which the ancient monks living below Jabba’s palace harvested Fortuna’s brain and transplanted it into a mobile spider-droid. It’s probably unlikely, but I thought you should know all the options.

What we know for sure is that Boba Fett, who settles comfortably into the throne vacated by both Jabba and Bib, is probably about to take the reins of Jabba’s once mighty empire, with plenty of help from Fennec Shand, who sits on the throne’s armrest, swigging from a flagon. The camera pans out, and a title card helpfully informs us that a new Disney+ series called The Book Of Boba Fett is coming in December, 2021. There are two distinct possibilities for what this means, both for Boba and for the future of The Mandalorian franchise.

The most popular and plausible theory is that The Book Of Boba Fett will be a new spinoff, a tenth new original Disney+ Star Wars series to add to the nine previously announced at the Disney Investors Meeting last week. There have been rumors that a Boba Fett spinoff is either in the works or actually already filming, and its absence from the official Disney lineup surprised many fans who have been following the news closely. Now it seems they may have been concealing its existence to preserve the surprise of this post-credits scene. I would love for this to be its own spinoff, because a Boba Fett miniseries gives us much more time to explore Fett and Shand’s new lair in Jabba’s palace, and for them to interact with all of the galaxy’s most dangerous criminals. The Mandalorian, which most of us originally thought focused on the bounty hunting business, has since become its own thing, freeing up this niche for The Book Of Boba Fett to fill.

The other possibility, and one that I don’t even want to consider, is that this “spinoff” is actually the third season of The Mandalorian, focusing on Fett and Shand rather than Din Djarin and Grogu. The strongest reason to believe this could be the case is the fact that both series’ are set to debut in December of 2021, and Disney+ hasn’t ever pitted two high-profile series’ from the same franchise against each other like that before (though, granted, The Mandalorian has been pretty much their only high-profile series from any franchise they own, so far). It would certainly be unusual if the two debuted against each other. It’s also convenient that Boba Fett, a Mandalorian, would be in a position to take over as the Mandalorian. His storyline is certainly compelling, and I’d watch anything with Ming-Na Wen in it, but I’m definitely not ready to give up Din Djarin and Grogu yet, especially not now that Djarin has just accidentally come into possession of the Darksaber, and Grogu is studying with Luke Skywalker at the newly rebuilt Jedi Academy. There’s still too much story left to tell with (and from the viewpoints of) those two characters. Or at least, I have to hope so.

What do you think? Is The Book Of Boba Fett going to be its own thing, or a continuation of The Mandalorian with a new and improved focus? Which would you prefer? Share your own thoughts, theories, and opinions, in the comments below!

December 18, 2020

“The Mandalorian” Season 2 Finale!

**SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN AHEAD!**

How The Mandalorian‘s second season finale will be judged largely depends on what happens next, in either the sequel season it sets up with a not-so-subtle cliffhanger ending, or the spinoff it teases in an unexpected post-credits scene (or…are they are one and the same?), because what we got is very clearly not the resolution to a self-contained original story, but rather the prologue to a wider saga spanning the Star Wars universe. But right now, for this one blissful moment, my feelings are deeply conflicted yet generally positive…because you simply can’t do what The Mandalorian season two finale did in its closing minutes, and not excite the Star Wars fan in me.

Just as in season one, when Din Djarin (voiced and played by Pedro Pascal) had to assemble a team to defeat the unnamed Imperial client on Nevarro (the true identity of whom will likely remain one of the series’ many minor, irritating, unsolved mysteries), this season’s finale revolves around assembling a small gang of heavily-armed misfits and saving Baby Yoda – or Grogu, or The Child, or whatever you want to call him. Djarin had already gained the allegiances of Boba Fett (Temuera Morrison), Fennec Shand (Ming-Na Wen), and Cara Dune (Gina Carano). The last piece in the puzzle is the Mandalorian princess Bo-Katan Kryze (Katee Sackhoff), who plays a pivotal role in the events of the finale, even though…well, it’s complicated, in a weird and somewhat unsatisfying way.

It’s nothing, however, compared to the intricacies of Mandalorian societal structures, which continue to grow increasingly messier the more we learn about them – today culminating in a face-off between Bo-Katan and Boba Fett where the two are barely able to resist from killing each other on the spot. The reasoning for that goes back a long way, to the animated Clone Wars series, in which it was revealed that most Mandalorians regard the entire House of Fett as outsiders to their creed and community – and Boba specifically as something entirely alien, due to the bounty hunter having been created inorganically as an identical clone of his father, Jango. Bo-Katan, who cast stones at Din Djarin for unknowingly belonging to a group of religious fanatics, now taunts Boba Fett with questions about his “donor”, and comparing him to other clones she’s known (and yes, that’s extremely hypocritical and uncharacteristic of her, since clone armies were instrumental in putting her in power after the Siege of Mandalore), causing a scuffle between Fett and Bo-Katan’s second-in-command, Koska Reeves (Sasha Banks). Fett, in turn, is utterly dismissive of Bo-Katan’s goal to unite the Mandalorian clans behind her and retake their ancestral home planet of Mandalore, which the Empire supposedly desecrated. In the end, the promise of finally being able to confront Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) and win back the Darksaber is what convinces Bo-Katan to join: though Din Djarin valiantly tries the “they-took-the-Child” route with her. It’s worked for everyone else, and it seems to be almost be enough for Bo-Katan, but the show is painting her as a low-key antagonist to Djarin for whatever reason, so they can’t have her be too kindhearted.

This is one of two instances in The Mandalorian so far (the other being Ahsoka’s refusal to train Grogu because of attachments) that I would be tempted to classify as character assassination if the term hadn’t been hijacked by trolls who use it broadly to mean anything that ever happened in the sequel trilogy. There’s a difference between character assassination and character development that a lot of people don’t get: and Luke Skywalker’s journey in The Last Jedi, for example, is a textbook example of the latter. Character development is organic and typically serves a thematic purpose; whereas assassination is a shortcut used lazily to rush the story forward (in Ahsoka’s case), or to force a conflict where there was none (in Bo-Katan’s case). What’s particularly frustrating is that audiences who don’t know Bo-Katan from the animated series’ will now remember her best as the borderline ruthless, prejudiced, ambitious-to-a-fault schemer she is here.

Laying out an elaborate strategy for how to infiltrate Gideon’s star-cruiser, the gang sets out in a small Imperial shuttle stolen from its previous pilot (played by Thomas Sullivan, whom I immediately recognized from Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D.). The Mandalorian somehow has time to flesh out his character, and give him a pointless back-and-forth with Cara Dune, where he manipulates what I guess are supposed to be her traumatic memories of the destruction of Alderaan. The event has now been referenced twice this season, and, leaving aside the fact that Carano’s acting does nothing to convey the trauma of its aftermath (the dialogue literally mentions her shedding a tear, while Carano’s eyes are dry), it’s honestly just weird that people keep bringing it up in-universe.

Omid Abtahi briefly reprises the role of Dr. Pershing, the other occupant of the stolen shuttle, but there’s no time to interrogate him about Grogu’s exact midi-chlorian count. The fact that he was on his way to and not from Gideon’s cruiser bodes well for Grogu, as it implies he may not have had a chance to extract any further samples from the child (Gideon later confirms he’s taken his own samples of the child’s blood, but, well, that will be insignificant in the long run).

Director Peyton Reed is at his best while orchestrating the high-stakes, action-packed break-in – a stark contrast to his Ant-Man movies, which have mostly been low-stakes, filled with comedic action scenes and sight gags. Between this and the exhilarating spider chase he directed earlier in The Mandalorian‘s second season, he’s definitely given himself an upgrade before his next Marvel film, Ant-Man And The Wasp: Quantumania. His exceptional use of each character’s individual strengths makes for a very memorable string of fight scenes, and there’s a real sense of urgency and danger, even though most of our heroes are encased in beskar steel, which is nigh on impossible to shatter, dent, or damage in any way.

Din Djarin finds this out the hard way when he singlehandedly takes on Gideon’s elite platoon of robotic dark troopers – even with one of these super-sized metal juggernauts repeatedly hammering his face backwards into a wall with the force of a small battering ram, it’s the wall that gets broken to bits and Djarin who escapes unscathed, thanks to his beskar steel helmet. Hilariously, he’s then able to temporarily eliminate the dark trooper threat by blasting them all out an airlock.

While Bo-Katan and her all-female team storm the ship’s bridge looking for Gideon, Djarin accidentally but predictably encounters the Moff personally guarding his most prized possession, Grogu, with the Darksaber in hand. Finally, we can see why Lucasfilm hired Giancarlo Esposito for this role, as the ex-Imperial sneakily manipulates the conversation, feigning disinterest in the Mandalorian political situation while freely offering the child to Djarin. Although Djarin initially buys into his lies, it takes all of five seconds for Gideon to reveal his true colors and start hacking ferociously at Djarin with the Darksaber. The beskar steel gifted by Ahsoka Tano finally comes in handy, allowing Djarin the means to fight back in one of the series’ most hyped-up duels. The whole sequence is over suspiciously quickly, however, and Gideon is soon captured and dragged up to the bridge after being disarmed by Djarin.

When they reach the bridge, we find out just how cunning Gideon has been – possibly at the expense of established Star Wars canon. It was revealed a while ago in Rebels that, to wield the Darksaber and claim it as one’s own, one must first defeat the previous owner in combat. Or, at least, that was the case until Sabine Wren yielded the Darksaber willingly to Bo-Katan…who soon after lost it to Gideon himself, and spent years hunting him down, trying to make up for her failure and render her claim to the sword irrefutable. Gideon, by intentionally losing to Djarin, has now created a situation where Bo-Katan “can’t” take the sword unless she wins it in combat…from Din Djarin. Except she can. Sabine Wren set the precedent. Djarin offers it to her several times, only for Gideon to interject each time with a gleeful reminder of how Mandalorian law supposedly works. My best guess is that Bo-Katan blames her willingness to defy tradition and take the sword freely for all her failures, and for that reason won’t do so again. This whole thing is weirdly reminiscent of the Elder Wand debacle in Harry Potter.

It’s at this moment that the dark troopers return, flooding back onto the ship and charging towards the bridge, all while Gideon gleefully torments his captors with quips and boasts. His menace is rather undercut, though, by the sheer stupidity that compels him to grab a blaster and aim for Bo-Katan, who, reminder, is wearing beskar steel. He gets knocked unconscious by Cara Dune, and that’s literally the last we hear of him. A humiliating defeat for a villain that had just come into his own.

In the chaos, a single X-Wing fighter appears out of nowhere, heading for the cruiser. At first, I assumed it had to be the New Republic, come to save the day and convince us that a Rangers Of The New Republic spinoff series is actually necessary, but once the ship is confirmed to be flying solo and lands without communicating with the bridge, I figured I knew who its occupant had to be. Reed draws out the big reveal, forcing you to agonize and wrestle with your emotions and your “this can’t be happening” impulses, even as all the visual clues add up. And the brutal, beautiful suspense makes it that much more conflicting when the smoke clears, each and every dark trooper has been obliterated, and the person standing there is indeed Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill)…but is also very much not.

The CGI replacement for young Luke – which uses Hamill’s digitally de-aged voice and likeness – is perhaps not quite as unnerving as the CGI Princess Leia in Rogue One, but nowhere near the seamless, stately elegance of CGI Tarkin in the same film. CGI Luke’s eyes are haunting and slightly unfocused, and his voice doesn’t quite seem to match the movement of his lips. He is, of course, revealed to be the Jedi that Grogu contacted back on Tython, but when they meet at last, Grogu waddles over immediately – only to spend most of the scene talking to Luke’s sidekick, R2-D2, in an excited chirping language matching the droid’s beeps, boops, and bops, while CGI Luke stands to the side; his ghastly top half purposefully out of frame, his lower half standing too still, like a background character in an animated movie.

Disturbing digital effects aside, the Luke reveal is emotional and brilliantly executed, and it makes sense that he’ll be the one to train Grogu in the ways of the Force. But of course saying goodbye is hard: and so Djarin removes his helmet willingly, revealing his face to Grogu for the first (and hopefully not last) time. The puppet’s tiny claw reaches out to touch Djarin’s cheek, wide eyes take in every feature of his face…and yes, those muffled sobs you hear are mine. What can I say? I love character development.

And with that, CGI Luke sweeps Baby Yoda into his Ken doll arms, and takes off, concluding the second season of The Mandalorian. So much is still unresolved! Moff Gideon is defeated, Din Djarin commands the Darksaber and must now either embrace a new destiny or pass it on to Bo-Katan, and Grogu is headed to Ach-To, I guess. Oh yeah, and Boba Fett and Fennec Shand are getting a spinoff (or maybe just taking over The Mandalorian), which we’ll discuss in greater detail, in the second half of my finale review.

Because this show is so frustrating, one just wasn’t enough.

Episode Rating: 7.5/10