The early arcs might drag slightly, but oh, the four part finale redeems it all.It has everything essential about these characters. Anakin's desperate longing for human connection and for those he holds most dear to be alright, and the rejection and disillusionment he feels from the weight of this war. Obi-Wan swallowing down his doubts and hopes to be the perfect model Jedi, pushing away and distancing himself from his closest friends in the process. Yoda hopeless and raw, wishing for the old days when Ahsoka was a Jedi and the Jedi weren't soldiers, and unable to shake the dread in his soul.
And, of course, the core trio of this season- Ahsoka, Rex, and Maul- shine. Maul's the last physical antagonist of the show but even in this moment he's overshadowed by Sidious. There's this dread to him as he can sense that everything is about to change, that he is always one step behind his master. He's always playing catch up, always surviving instead of thriving. That is his tragedy- a pawn that's outlived his usefulness trying to become a king. A man who thinks vengeance and power will finally give him satisfaction, but the pursuit of these things have only left him alone and hollow. Like Vader himself, it's that tragedy that makes him so compelling to watch, and Witwer perfectly acts every inch of Maul's bitterness and despair and dissatisfaction. Maul hates who he is, what he knows, and he will never be satisfied. He will never be happy. But he has no choice to be what he is, from the very beginning. He never had a chance.
None of them do. Maul is desperate, even willing to team up with his sworn enemy Kenobi to kill Skywalker. This is his last fight against the inevitability of fate, and it is already doomed. Neither of them arrived- they were called to 'rescue' Palpatine from Grevious. Ahsoka came instead. Sidious is about to seize power. Anakin's already killed Dooku, falling further and further. It's too late for Maul to stop his master and too late for Ahsoka to save hers. And yet they fight anyway. Because Ahsoka believes in Anakin so much, she cannot turn against him. She knows this is not the clones' fault, so she cannot kill them. She's left the Jedi Order and has found her own morals, her own way. Rex, meanwhile has come to realize he moves his brothers above all else, but must fight against them. Each of them have their own pathos that makes this enthralling entertainment.
The fight scenes are gorgeous- Ahsoka and Maul's battle being a standout. The beautiful environments, from the shattered throne room to the icy moon the series ends on, will take your breath away. But more than anything else, the ending justifies it all. Each Star Wars movie, even the darkest, end with at least a hint of triumph, or a light flung into the future. Attack of the Clones almost ends on the formation of the clones, a moment Yoda dreads, but the marriage of Anakin and Padame is a reminder that Luke and Lelia are on the way. Empire Strikes Back and Last Jedi both end with the heroes fractured but not broken, ready for round three. And even Revenge of the Sith assures us Luke and Leia will make things right in the end. Animated contemporaries Rebels and Resistance, too, end in triumph.
Not Clone Wars.
Clone Wars is a tragedy. There is no flash forward to better days, there is no hint of the rebellion, or that Ahsoka and Rex will be fine in the end. The last shot of Ahsoka shows her haunted, and the last shot of the show...is Vader, reflected in the helmet of one of the clones he respected so much, and was respected by in turn.A helmet specially decorated in support of Ahsoka, who both Anakin and the 501st adored, a last reminder of Anakin's and the clones' humanity, completely discarded. The ending doesn't care about the Skywalker Saga, about Anakin being redeemed in the end, or Luke rising up, or Rey carrying on their legacy. And that's what makes it great.
The clones were made for this war- pawns from life to death. All to help facilitate Anakin’s fall. For Anakin and his prophecy the clones and so many people from the Jedi to the average man suffered and died in a brutal, grueling war that only led to a brutal and grueling regime. All actors of a play they were never privy to. The show has the conviction to not cushion that blow.It is about the Clone Wars, not what comes after, and the Clone wars was a tragedy without redemption. Nothing will have made this war matter retroactively. The vast majority of people have no idea that a rebellion is forming or that Luke and Leia were born. All the Jedi and clones and civilians we've grown attached to and seen die certainly don't. The Clone Wars pulls back and shows exactly what the Skywalker Saga, what the Chosen One prophecy, has wrought on the people that saga turned its back on- the nobodies. The ordinary. After one horrendous finale, this one- this show- shows what Star Wars could be, and quite possibly never will be again. And I will always love it for that.
Excellent last season of an awesome show. I'm pleased how they connect all loose ends and got the transition to BB right. I don't have to point out that this show is well written and looks beautiful.
There are some weaker elements though:
When George Lucas created Star Wars in the 1970s, it was many things. It was influenced by samurai films of the 60s smashed with science-fiction serials in more of a fantasy style. It was a statement against the American military complex–specifically related to the Vietnam War. It was a massive risk that nobody thought would pay off. And although Star Wars is no longer a financial gamble but one of Disney's cash cows (Solo aside), many seem to have forgotten that the political edge of the franchise has always been central to its identity. While various entries in the long running staple of American cinema have had varying degrees of transparency and effectiveness in terms of making its anti-fascist elements known, the heart is still there. While the face of imperialist threats in the real world have shifted throughout the years thus necessitating a morphing of methods in Star Wars (the prequels are unbelievably prescient these days), the current state of the political climate both at home and abroad present themselves as prime targets for the dormant and sidelined political themes to come out swinging. I wouldn’t qualify Andor as coming out swinging so much as coming out brandishing a pipe bomb.
Andor is a rarity in every sense of the word. It’s a late entry in a forty-five year old franchise that feels fresher than it has any right to. It’s a prequel to a prequel about how a character who played an important role that made the climax of the original film possible. It’s an overtly political, anti-fascist, anti-imperialist narrative made by the largest film production company in the world that somehow still presents itself artfully enough that you don’t feel as though you’ve been beaten over the head with its parallels while also pushing the multitude of nuance with such clarity the emotional beats hit just as hard as (and typically in tandem with) the political beats. It boasts strong writing for character, dialogue, and plot. It’s a Disney+ series that uses a shocking amount of practical effects and looks flat-out tremendous. It features A-list actors bringing their all. But most importantly: Andor never lets its audience forget that the Empire is fascist and that fascism is bad. Full stop.
Whereas in nearly every other entry in the Star Wars cannon that uses the Empire/New Order/Sith as antagonists you understand that those figures are evil for the sake of the narrative, at times these entries lack the guts to flatly present those characters as evil because they represent a regime that pushes a political philosophy directly aimed to minimize individual freedoms, discriminate against anyone different from those in power, and strives for total control of its people and its land. I wouldn’t necessarily call this a failure in other entries so much as a calculated step at times: it would be harder to accept Anakin in the prequels, Vader’s redemption in the original trilogy, and Kylo Ren’s struggle in the sequel trilogy if any of those films were as blatant and explicit as Andor’s portrayal. Those representations do not bely fascist heart of the Empire, but they do downplay the practices of the regime so that heavier lifting for character arcs can be avoided. Andor needs you to feel the oppression. Andor needs you to understand that there is a need for rebellion and that Cassian Andor is not so much a plucky Rebellion member as he is someone who was backed into needing to fight against the Empire because they oppose his very right to exist.
There’s two sides of the same coin here in Andor. Just as we understand why the Empire is evil, we understand why the Rebellion’s guerrilla, go for broke tactics are necessary. Without them, they pose no threat. Without any attempt, the Empire continues to control. But at the same time, there’s an explicit example shown that just as the Rebellion exists because of the Empire, the extended reach of the Empire is necessary for the Rebellion to gain members to fight as well. It's an incredible touch of skill, showing how a rebellion needs to get bleak to succeed.
The writing of Andor is easily its strongest suit. The above paragraphs only begin to scratch the surface in terms of how much depth is mined from the long running franchise. Because in addition to all that’s written above, there’s so much additional nuance and detail the show adds to the Galaxy: we learn how the Empire exerts control, how the Empire builds the Death Star, how the Rebellion gets funded, how the beginning of the Rebellion consisted of so many factions that will eventually give way to that which we see in A New Hope. There’s deep, developed characters, including genuinely positive representation of diversity in terms of gender, queerness, and race. There’s ruminations on political ideologies, the purpose of daily life in the midst of an imperial takeover, how individuals have to sideline their dreams and goals so that people, collectively, have a shot to live better. And it’s no surprise it’s this good either, considering the writing credits include not one, but two Gilroys; Beau Willimon; and The Americans alum Stephen Schiff. If anything, it’s surprising that Disney was able to accrue such a high echelon of talent for a Disney+ Star Wars series. It’s surprising Disney would make a show this grounded, mature, and violent at all. And while I haven’t disliked much that Disney has done with Star Wars (some of the series are really the only complete disappointments for me) and I think The Last Jedi is the best thing Star Wars has ever done, it just shocks me this is what we got considering the state of the House of Mouse and the state of the American political system.
I’ll admit that my expectations were almost rock bottom for this series before it began its release. After The Book of Boba Fett and how reliant The Mandalorian is on fanservice (a series I still admittedly like very much), it was hard to muster too much hope for a prequel to a prequel, even if I did love Rogue One and Andor’s character within that film. I just didn’t have faith that something new could be brought to the table. My fear had been that the backlash to The Last Jedi–the most overtly political and punk entry of the sequel trilogy–had filed down Disney’s teeth, particularly considering the leaked elements of Trevorrow’s canned Episode IX: Duel of the Fates carried on the thematic threads of the unfairly maligned Episode VIII. But instead Andor makes me think that in the interim, Disney (and Kathleen Kennedy, specifically, credit where credit is due) took a step back to take stock of what stories could be told in the franchise. While I won’t ignore the filler that’s come out after The Rise of Skywalker, the strength of Andor gives me hope for the franchise moving forward, particularly considering there’s a Waititi film coming down the line and Johnson’s trilogy is (as of the time of writing) still alive–even if it’s in limbo at this point.
It takes something as fresh, focused, and potent as Andor to bring back this level of confidence. It’s a true testament to the quality of the series’s first season. And while I don’t align myself with the rabid cannibalism of the Star Wars fandom (as probably is evident by my proclamations for the prequels and The Last Jedi), it is nice just to get a win in the franchise. It’s nice not to go on the internet after watching an entry and become immediately exhausted by the sheer multitude of inane debates about it–although there does seem to be a faction of internet users who haven’t quite figured out that Andor’s overt political theming directly points the finger at American conservatism, but at least they like the show.
What really drives home my excitement for this series isn’t just the quality of its initial season, although it certainly helps. It’s that Andor has a planned arc for its second season which has already been greenlit and confirmed to be its last. It cements artistic integrity by its creative team and respects the work put into it by all those involved. Because although Star Wars is a franchise that likely isn’t going away any time soon (not that I’m complaining about that), it’s nice to know that there’s individual entries that can take pre-established elements from it and reinvent the very foundation from which it was created.
