InvioLing

Finally get to see a bit more of Eddie and all the potential of the character seen in first episode that was just hidden till then. "Mordor it is".

I really don't buy that the basketball guy would be able to play the eloquent speaker that not only seizes the control of the meeting, but also manages to convince the whole town, while quoting the bible. And, even if he was, that speech was far far far from good enough to turn the whole town into a mob and literally convince them to hunt children. While the whole police department just stands and watches.

In the end there's no real Eleven training, just flashbacks, but it's good, better than what the beginning showed. Did she really kill these kids because she was bullied ? Since it hasn't really be shown yet and the first episode showed it more like an outside attack I'm more betting on a kind of upside down outbreak. Or from the other branch of government that is against these experiments ? But that would be much less interesting.

Hopper's story is getting great (while Joyce's stays meh). There's a gate in the prison, and another one in Hawkins. I guess that makes up for the evasion plan that includes no way to escape. Assuming the distance inside is different and they don't have to do the whole Russia to Hawkins trip in there, not sure Joyce and Murray would be up for it. And if Hopper ended up in Russia, there should be existing or ways to create shortcuts.
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The out of Hawkins team is still useless though the Susie bit was funny (wow does that computer boot fast, and it still works after repeated power cuts).

Main action is in Hawkins and it rocks. Everybody's getting a little trip in the upside down. I guess it's boring to show on TV but why every time someone goes underwater they got to stay there as long as possible ? They should come up, often, not only to breathe but to inform the other of what they found. He could have been captured before even informing them. Instead of coming up at least to say "hey, there's a red light over there, I'm going to check it out"

Though the plan to "kill Vecna to save Max and Eddie" is weird. First, it seems there hasn't been any new attack on Max, she just got rid of what made her a target. Second, then what ? They tell the cops "it wasn't Eddie, it was a demon and we already killed it", and the cops go "lol, ok, wow, we almost made a mistake, thanks a bunch scooby gang" and let Eddie go ?

The government's agents situation is a bit weird. Different factions (or different agencies ?) that both know about Brenner's experiment and Eleven's existence, and believe in her powers, yet somehow some do not know or believe in the existence of the upside down ?
Only explanation is that they are not qualified, do not have the clearance level, to know of such things. And yet, they are bold enough to launch military operations attacking, killing, and torturing other agents ? They are not the rogue ones, this is clearly on orders. Are there no superior agency to control and stop them ?
Even if they were not convinced that Eleven is the solution, they would know about the existence of the upside down. Or maybe the agency knows, but the field agents are kept in the dark ? While still telling them about Eleven's power and asking them to do what they do ? Still weird.

[7.7/10] “The Hook” has to accomplish much more than the average episode of Poker Face so far. Most have been able to tell largely single-serving stories, with fresh characters who only need to serve the purposes of the immediate narrative.

This season finale is different. It has to deliver a mystery. But it also has to pick up on all the arc tidbits that have been piling up until now. It has to give a face to the menacing voice on the phone making threats to Charlie in the first episode, and tease Charlie’s familial backstory and set up the arc for the next season.

With all that going on, it occasionally feels disjointed, or at a minimum, a little quilted together. But the constituent parts are good! Which helps the medicine go down.

My favorite scene in this one has nothing (or little) to do with the mystery of the week or the myth arc. It comes when Charlie turns to her sister, Em, for help, despite neither of the siblings relishing the reunion. On the one hand, their conversation is tantalizing, because it hints at a terrible childhood both survived, some bad blood between them that involves their (potentially abusive) dad and Charlie’s gift, and a lingering affection tinged with hurt that is the stuff good character dynamics are made of.

On the other though, I like it as a strange deconstruction of Charlie and, by extension, the show. Look, it’s a little early in the series for deconstructions. But I’ve taken the show’s “new murder every week” premise for granted. Every show requires some willing suspension of disbelief. Poker Face just asks you to go along for the ride that humble Charlie stumbles into some bit of slaying and cover-up each episode. More than fair.

But Em suggests it’s more than coincidence. She admits that Charlie has a good heart, that people rightly gravitate toward and like her. But she uses a word that sticks and stings -- “ruinous.” Every situation that Charlie visits ends up going to all hell. That's not always Charlie’s fault. Or at least, she never starts these things. But there’s a really interesting concept in Em’s bitter recriminations -- that as much we love Charlie, maybe her gift and her knack for getting involved cause as many problems as they solve. I’m not sure I buy it based on what we’ve seen so far, but it’s a fascinating take on Charlie’s nomadic life, and a source of enmity between her and her sister.

I’ll admit to being less enamored with the mystery element here. Ron Perlman plays Sterling Sr., and he is fantastic as always. The twist that he doesn’t want to kill Charlie; he just wants her help in smoothing things over with the mob bosses his son got involved with over his objections, is a good one. The show leads you to believe that him paying for Charlie’s recuperation and getting her cleaned up is all a prelude to an execution. Revealing that, in the fullness of time, he’s changed his mind and wants Charlie on his team puts the past year into stark relief.

Hell, I even like the twist that Cliff is surreptitiously working for those same mob bosses and conspires to both kill Sterling Sr. and frame Charlie for the murder. It pays off the main arc of the season with a suitable left turn in the narrative, and puts Charlie on the run once more.

Here’s the problem -- I don’t really care about Cliff, and the episode puts a lot on him. Benjamin Bratt is fine. The notion of a longstanding lieutenant having had his fill of the boss and taking him down for a good payday has legs. But Cliff’s just not a very deep character, so watching Charlie piece things together, ally with, and go against him, which takes up a lot of the episode, doesn’t really land with me. There’s some real cleverness to his scheme, between getting Charlie’s prints on the murder weapon and using a blacklight poker chip to mark his target in the dark. But there isn’t the same depth of character to make him or his scheme as compelling as they ought to be.

That said, I do like how it leads to the return of Luca, Charlie’s FBI agent friend. He’s an interesting ally, because he speaks plainly to Charlie in a way that recognizes her talents. He fully admits that he’s only been able to move up in the bureau thanks to her. He offers her a job once again. And most interestingly to me, he’s frank with her that she shouldn’t turn herself in, and that the truth doesn’t matter because the evidence points her way. He’s a good dude, one who’s realistic about this stuff, but also on Charlie’s side.

Regardless of his intervention, I’m a little tired of the “secret recording” trope in this show. It’s nice that Charlie gets some justice for her murdered friend from the first episode. But her getting the tape where Sterling Jr. gives Cliff the order to kill to the feds seems a little too cute to me, especially since Poker Face has gone to that well multiple times.

Still, I enjoy the wry humor in all of this. Charlie escaping the hotel by mingling with a bachelorette party is a lot of fun. The ongoing saga of the penis-shaped ring that won’t get unstuck is a dose of absurd hilarity. And honestly, the simple fact of Charlie talking to her six-year-old niece is a hoot. As much serious and dramatic stuff happens in this series, it never stops injecting some welcome levity in the right places.

In the end, though, Charlie kinda sorta wins. She avenges her friend. She pins Sterling Sr.’s murder on Cliff. Luca even gets Charlie her car back. Big victory right? Only now, she’s earned the ire of an even bigger threat -- Beatrix Hasp, the head of a mob family. (Between this and Star Wars: The Bad Batch, Rhea Perlman is facing some late career typecasting as a crime boss.)

In a threatening phone call that mirrors the one Charlie received from Sterling Sr. in the series premiere, the hunt is on again. Beatrix uses the same term Em did -- ruinous. Charlie solving the case disrupted a lot of things for a lot of people. But whatever the consequences, Charlie accepts that she’s good at this, and she can keep it up, no matter who’s after her. There’s something affirming about that, the self-assurance in the face of mortal threats and challenging odds.

I hope she does though! The first season of Poker Face was a breath of fresh air. The commitment to strong storytelling, rich characters, and sharp visuals made the series at once feel like a throwback to the classics of episodic T.V., with a casting and a style that situate it perfectly within the confines of modern television. “The Hook” throws in plenty of hints and teases for Charlie’s adventures to continue with personal and thematic meat still on the bone. And if season 1 is any indication, she and the show’s creative team have every reason to feel confident about continuing down this path for years to come.

[8.5/10] I’m tempted to call Poker Face a show for actors. So much of glossy television today is plot-driven, prompting fans to think through twists and speculate about what game-changing development will shock them yet. Poker Face, by contrast, mostly gives away the game at the top. There’s still twists, but you generally get a sense for who dies, how they bit it, and who killed them in the first act.

And yet, you could defensibly call this a writer’s show. Despite Poker Face being a bit of a procedural, it is, true to creator Rian Johnson’s ethos, one with clever clockwork spins on the formula, with ways to surprise and delight the audience through narrative alone. There’s poetry in these scripts, and it jumps off the screen.

But at the same time, you could also fairly call this a cinematographer’s show. The camera moves aren’t always showy, but there’s a classical elegance to the framings, and smart use of lighting to help heighten the mood and show off these worn corners of the world that Charlie inhabits. And sometimes, you even get flashier, bravura sequences like Laura’s descent into madness here. It’s an impressionistic set piece, where Arthur’s creations come to life to haunt her into madness, and demonstrate that, despite her proclamations, the past can hurt you. The stop motion phantasmagoria, red tint, fisheye lens, and other showier moves are the kind of thing a less stylistically sharp series couldn't pull off so well.

But at the end of the day, I still think this is an actor's show, because ultimately Poker Face is about the characters. That benefits the writers, and in a way even the cinematographers. But it thrives on creating these single serving protagonists and antagonists, and making these stories matter with so little time to get them off the ground and into our hearts requires performers who can bring them to life with layers and authenticity.

On that measure, “The Orpheus Syndrome” may be Poker Face’s greatest outing yet, because it’s just virtuoso performance after virtuoso performance.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Cherry Jones in anything before, but holy hell is she good here! One of the trickiest things to pull off as an actor is someone who’s presenting one emotion but feeling another, and even blending the truth and the lie together in real time. Her rendition of Laura, the head of a famous film company who’s offed her two collaborators, is incredible in the way she’s able to to present someone who’s genuinely regretful about this and wants her former partners to understand, but who is also gleeful in being able to get away with it.

What’s interesting is that you can believe both parts of it. You can buy that she’s genuinely sad it’s come to this, that she has to kill to preserve her life, that she has to hurt people she oves in the process. But you can also see the scheming side of her, the one that's ready to put on the performance of the grieving widow, of the person glad to give an old friend some peace, when in reality she was the cause of their demise with mercenary uses for their leftovers. There’s so many layers to it. Particularly when she has her breakdown, and all the emotions she’s been suppressing in the act come back to haunt her, she is downright remarkable. If she doesn’t get a guest actress Emmy, then something is seriously wrong.

But Nick Nolte is fantastic too. He’s developed a cottage industry of playing this softly broken men in everything from this to The Mandalorian to the American remake of Broadchurch. His take on Arthur, a special effects visionary and a man haunted by the sense that he killed a young actress by pushing her too hard on a challenging scene, is vivid and affecting. He has that wry old m an energy, bolstered by the gravel in Nolte’s voice, of someone who’s tired to make peace with what happened, but finds it still eating away at him despite the facade.

Of course, Charlie can see past the facade. By this point, I take Natasha Lyonne’s superb acting for granted, but the way Charlie’s able to ingratiate herself into the life of someone like Arthur, or the basement-dwelling employee at the film company, without it ever feeling contrived or forced, is a tribute to Lyonne’s talents. Her easy rapport with Arthur, and commiserating over having lost someone and wondering if you could have done something different, makes for a winning dynamic between the two.

Along the way you have Luis Guzman playing a good-natured but kind of bumbling member of the old crew, who’s another one of those below-the-line good people that Charlie finds herself gravitating toward. Guzman is charming, unassuming, and funny. And none other than Tim Russ (Voyager’s Tuvok) has a small but significant role as Laura’s husband Max, whose final look damns her with disgust over what she did, with his lived-in performance making a lot out of a little.

What she did was turn off the red light that allowed the young starlet to signal that something was wrong on the shoot. This whole ploy turns out to be a means to cover that up, burn the footage that Max and eventually Arthur discovered implicating her in the death that Arhtur had blamed himself for all these years. It is an appropriately cinematic reveal, with an appropriate bit of comeuppance as the incriminating footage is projected onto the screen showing off the forty years of work the trio did together at an anniversary celebration.

The weight of it all slowly unravels Laura. I love her crumbling on the stage of what’s supposed to be her triumph, something that Jones sells like gangbusters. Every villain has their reasons, and there’s something comprehensible and compelling, if not forgivable, of the sense that she was left to do the dirty work to make these men able to live their dreams as boy geniuses. It steeps her motivations in something recognizable and relatable, even as her actions are extreme, grounding an operatic story in real emotion and resentments.

That’s what makes her literal and figurative fall so nightmarish yet invigorating. Laura is the queen of rationalization and compartmentalization, the one who did what needed to be done while her collaborators captured their dreams on celluloid. Only now, with them gone, those dreams have come back to life, curdled into phantasms from her past that can no longer be contained, and eventually drive her to madness and death.

That final, cinematic end wouldn’t have so much power without the performers who sell that dynamic, the remorse, the facade, the cracks in the foundation that amass until emotion and terror come spilling out together as Arthur’s symbolic penitence works its magic on Laura. Poker Face belongs to the entire creative team, who like the episode’s characters, work together to bring this all to life. But in an episode like “The Orpheus Syndrome” the tremendous acting that sells the layers upon layers of guilt and self-justification and recrimination that swirl among these individuals, is what brings the series to a high water mark.

[7.5/10] I enjoyed this one because, like the episode at the nursing home, it expertly plays with your sympathies.

In the first act, Kyle Owens is the good guy. He’s an old man who wants to make his legendary father proud before he retires. But what’s preventing him from doing that is some cocky young hotshot who employs dirty tricks on the track and tears out his mailbox to add insult to injury, Kyle doesn’t seem perfect, but he’s easy to sympathize with as someone trying to have his last run while being thwarted by someone who seems disrespectful and underhanded.

But then, at the end of the act, Kyle Owens sneaks into Davis’ garage to sabotage his car, and then seems to smile when the kid crashes, which, as with the nursing home cool kids, makes you question what kind of person he is.

The second act cements that, as we get to see events from Davis’ perspective. And yeah, he is a bit overconfident, but he also has legitimate grievances with the Owenses. From his perspective, he’s the little guy, who has to scrape by to get a car on the track, in contrast to Kyle and his daughter, who have a family name to trade on and the resources that big sponsors provide. You also get the sense that he genuinely loves this, trying to live up to the standard of his own grandfather and share his minor success and celebrity with the kids.

It doesn’t hurt that Charlie’s friends with his mom either! It’s a good way to give her an in to the murder mystery, and making Davis the offspring of someone who seems genuinely kind and decent helps put the audience on his side, especially when it looks like he’s got a tragic end coming. The way he tries to show Charlie the magic of racing, and even seems to be a little sweet on her, makes him a more likable guy than the cocky upstart we thought we knew from the first act.

But then, Poker Face switches our sympathies again. You can see Kyle’s daughter, Katy, showing up Davis on the go-kart track, which chaps his hide and spurs the mailbox-ripping revenge. But the true dark side comes out when he catches Kyle sabotaging his racecar.

The reveal that Davis sabotaged it further, and then put Katy in the driver seat, is both poetic and diabolical. It makes Davis seem like an active murderer, or at least muddies the blame for the incident with Katy, especially when Davis too seems pretty cold about the whole thing. And it makes Kyle somewhat sympathetic again, both when he’s clearly devastated by the ironic twist of his actions leading to his own daughter’s accident, and eventually because he stands up to face the music when confronted about it by Charlie and his no-nonsense but loving wife.

The chase from Charlie only reinforces that. I like the fact that she outs herself as a “cancer dog” for lies with Davis pretty quickly, so he’s smart enough to evade any statements that would give her a clue that he’s not on the up-and-up. It’s nice to see the villains here being clever enough to slip through Charlie’s detection methods. And the simple fact that what cracks open the case for Charlie is him trying to reassure a kid that seatbelts are safe has a poetry to it too.

He’s also damn menacing! Both the way he threatens Charlie with a tire iron and tries to run her down on the road is some of the most scary stuff Poker Face has pulled off. This being a Rian Johnson-penned episode, I appreciate the trademark setup, payoff, and ironic echo, where the fishtail move and “trust the car” mantra Davis taught her in the video game turns out to be the technique she needs to use to evade him.

The other odds and ends of the episode are good too. Charlie’s clues are all fair play, from the seatbelt lie, to Davis knowing what type of wire Kyle used for the sabotage, to the picture of Davis’ grandfather that was missing from the dash, to his mom’s forgetfulness about her keys that allow Charlie to slip into their garage. The humor was also particularly on point here, with Natasha Lyonne being especially amusing in her line deliveries about the glory of Deliverance and her regrets at accepting the “cancer dog” metaphor.

But what I like best here is Davis’ comeuppance. Rather than turning him into the cops or otherwise getting him to incriminate himself, Charlie deliberately gives him the yips! I like that as an alternative to the usual ways she brings people down. Davis getting what he’s always wanted (something clunkily announced in dialogue), only to find that with the pressure, the likely disapproval of his dead grandfather, and Katy awake and soon to take his crown, is some nice karmic retribution. And again, as is the hallmark of a Rian Johnson script, has the bookends of Davis’ shaking hand as a parallel to Kyle’s in the beginning.

Overall, another good mystery of the week with some well-played games of sympathy switching, along with a cool and unique way for Charlie to bring down the baddie.

[7.9/10] Another good episode. The opening segment does a good job of setting up questions of who the victim will be. Will it be Kathleen, the grand dame, with her trap door? Will it be Michael, her network T.V. counterpart, who has a heart condition? Will it be Rebecca, their millennial co-star with a conspicuous peanut allergy? Or will it be Ava, Michael’s wife and presumable sugar mama, whose death would lead to a payday?

The show plays nicely coy as to how things will go down. It isn’t obvious when or how the murder will happen. And I love the twist here, where it seems like Kathleen and Michael have had enough of one another and are trying to take each other out after a career’s worth of believable grievances with one another, but in reality, they’re in cahoots and trying to eliminate Ava so they can share in her “she-trade” fortune.

It’s good mystery craftsmanship, keeping the audience guessing and coming up with surprises so that savvy mystery watchers still have to stay on their toes after half a season’s worth of stories.

Granted, some convenience does come into play. In addition for everything else to go write with their dry ice/trap door/falling light plan, they had to know Ava would try to reach Michael via that particular route and that the fall would kill her, neither of which are guarantees. Still, it’s the kind of gimme I’ll grant the show given how well this little vignette of faded stars who seemingly hate each other but are actually willing to kill to be together works.

That may actually be my favorite little wrinkle to this one. Normally what gets Charlie on the case is recognizing that someone’s spewing “bullshit.” What I like is that, for once, it’s her recognizing that someone is telling an odd truth, namely that Kathleen and Michael love one another. It’s a small thing, but enough to mix up Poker Face’s formula in a nice way.

Plus, god help me, as a recovering theater kid, it’s just fun to see Poker Face skewering the stage. The show pokes gentle fun at regional theater. (And its Hamilton spoof is a delight.) The little bits from tech rehearsals to backstage drama to equally admiring and skeptical members of the crew is well-observed. I love the set piece where Charlie strives hard to convey the danger that everyone’s in without veering into the play’s sightlines. And I died laughing when she gives up the ghost, physically intrudes on the screen, and decides to become the titular “Ghost of Pensacola” within the play as a fig leaf.

I also really enjoy the way this episode continues the trend of Charlie getting involved in these things not because she’s just determined to solve a murder, but because she ends up gravitating toward good people and wants to exonerate or absolve them of the crime. Chris McKinney, the actor who plays Phil the stage manager, does a stellar job of seeming like the approachable member of the crew who helps Charlie out, and the poor man who tortures himself over allowing something terrible to happen on his stage, when in fact it was skullduggery by the play’s stars. You get the sense of the show building up a cadre of allies for Charlie, and my hope (if not expectation) is that they will come out of the woodwork to return the favor in her hour of need.

That said, you can only go to the “secret recording” method of incrimination so many times before it starts to feel a tad cheap, even though Charlie’s attempt to turn one of Kathleen’s spare wigs into a cheap facsimile of her dog to hide the device was a solid chuckle. But I guess I can give Poker Face a little leeway to repeat the trope since Michael and Kathleen used the same mics to “accidentally” broadcast their “feud” to the hearing impaired earlier in the episode.

The best part of this one though, comes at the end. I love the idea that despite the whole play being a setup for the crime, Kathleen at least really does want to step back into the spotlight, and is willing to risk giving up their “hard-earned” fortune for another chance at it. You get the sense that once upon a time, she and Michael actually cared, and in the years since their goofy network procedural, they’ve ossified.

But when they realize they’ve been made and there’s nothing left to do...they give the performances of a lifetime. I’m impressed at how well Ellen Barkin and Tim Meadows do at giving self-consciously bad performances in-character at Kathleen and Michael’s rehearsals and overblown acting in the one-night-only staging. But when they’re about to go down for murder, they tap into something real, a truth that Charlie can recognize within the performance (a neat use of her talents), that inadvertently sees them delivering the tour de force Kathleen was faux-aspiring too. There’s poetry in that, and it sends a twisty, deadly, funny episode on a well-earned note of beauty and melancholy.

Slight variation on the usual Poker Face story arc, in this case, with Charlie befriending the villainesses before their villainess acts, and then still not quite believing it, even when she can tell they're lying, and, that, they are in reality, cliched "former counter-revolutionaries" who see nothing wrong with helping those who disagree with them in shedding their mortal coils. Yes, their former (to quote Kim K, "big D energy") paramour Ben may have betrayed them to the Po Po, causing (nearly unrecognizable former OLTL alum) Judith Light's Irene to take a shotty load to the spinal column and the both of them long term stays in the Graybar Hotel, but, damn son, they felt it was fine to blow up a room full of high school kids to teach them a lesson about working for "the MAN", that is, again, anyone who disagreed with their politics. Ben noped the "F" out, pulled a Sammy the Bull, and exited stage left via a blacked out FBI van straight into into WITSEC.

Years later, feeling that he needed to make things right, and at least tell them what had REALLY happened, he shows up at their care home, unfortunately forgetting that "hell hath no fury...."and quickly finds himself starring in a real life episode of "Murder They Wrote". I wont go fully into the plot, as @Andrew Bloom has given his usual play by play synopsis below, but, suffice it to say the main antagonists deserved and eventually received a return engagement at the local Shawshank dormitory, as well as a pre registration azz whoopin' via Ms.Charlie Cale.

Kudos to Simon Helberg's turn as "Luca" (who, unlike his Brasi namesake, does NOT sleep with the fishes) but, does seem like kind of Agent one would hope to run into if ones life started to go pear shaped. Hopefully (seeing how impressed he was with Charlie) we will see him again, and if not, when this show runs it's course, perhaps Charlie can take him up on his offer, and if not outright joining, (owing to how she feels about cops) then perhaps a consulting gig, on occasion, as she feels the need...., for justice.

All in all a really good episode.

MODERATION EDIT: You shouldn't use those terms to talk about disabled people. You can't say what you want if that is offensive.

[8.4/10] Rian Johnson and company were already playing with house money. But if you want me to like your show, casting Mountain Goats frontman John Darnielle in a prominent role is a good way to put a thumb on the scales!

But Johnson and writer Christine Boylan didn’t need to include the frontman for one of my (and Johnson’s) favorite bands to make “Rest in Metal” sing, because it may be the best episode of Poker Face yet, purely on its own merits.

Given that the structure of the show means Poker Face is less a murder mystery series and more of a “Charlie pieces the clues together” series, what matters most is the culprits and victims of the week. Why did they do it? What motivated them to take such drastic action.

What I like about this one is that the motive this week is an outsized version of something understandable. (To be clear, not for murder, but to be upset.) Ruby Riot and her band have one hit, a hit that's haunted them for ages with their inability to replicate it. On a practical level, they need the money. Their drummer wrote the song and gets all the royalties. Ruby’s working at an ersatz home depot. Al is going through a divorce. And Eskie is moving back with his mom and trying to get a legal certification. So when some dope of Craigslist wanders in to drum on their tour and unveils a surefire hit, there’s a pragmatic need for all of them to use it to get paid, which adds up as a motive.

What I like even better, though, is their emotional need. The three of them can feel histry repeating, with a drummer penning their hit and walking away with all of the profits. Ruby wants to avoid that with every fiber of her being. More to the point, as highlighted by director Tiffany Johnson’s creative production choices, Ruby wants to replicate that “seeing the face of God” feeling she got when they did “Staplehead”, they’re one hit. As much as they want the fortune and fame of another ride at the top, they’re also just chasing the high.

In a strange way, “Rest in Metal” plays a bit like Milos Forman’s Amadeus, with Ruby representing the “Queen of Mediocrities” who sees this guileless metalhead idiot creating by accident the salvation that she’s been chasing for decades. The episode takes time before the murder happens to show how sullen and desperate Doxxxocology has become, which makes their choice to murder this poor dope sad and terrible, but also comprehensible, which is what good stories about bad actions are made of.

But this is also a great Charlie episode. I wasn’t sure how they were going to fit her into this one, but I’m continually impressed about how Poker Face is able to do the first act without the show’s protagonist, only to reveal in the second act that she was there all along. I don’t know if it’s sustainable, or if over time it’s going to start to feel contrived or tedious. But for now, it’s a delight each time.

The setup that Charlie was one of the day laborers at the hardware store where Ruby works, wrangled into becoming her roadie, is a nice choice to lay down some plausibility. The fact that Charlie is the titular “Merch Girl” who the band writes a song about in the first act is cute, as is the fact that the staple thrown at them during their hit comes off her very own merch table.

More to the point though, I like her friendship with Gavin, the brain fried drummer-for-hire along for the ride. As my wife pointed out, this isn’t all that different from Charlie taking in the dog in the last episode. Gavin’s a dummy, but he’s completely without malice. Just a good-natured, somewhat messy kid who’s simply happy to be here. These stories wouldn’t work if you didn’t buy Charlie finding a quick bond with the ultimate victims, and the nature of Gavin’s silly but earnest dopery, and Charlie’s empathy toward other lost souls, makes this one click. Hell, we even get a brief moment of depth for him, about how music makes “the bad stuff go away,” that gives the kid a bit of pathos, and makes it extra sad when he becomes Doxxxology’s sacrificial lamb.

Beyond the strong character work, the little touches put this one over the top. There’s poetry to the face that the band uses Gavin’s peculiar amp setup to electrocute him. And again, the show plays fair with the mystery, setting up Gavin’s polaroid camera and footwork videos, not to mention Al’s posture-based gripes, ahead of time to give Charlie the evidence to piece together what really happened. It’s also nice that they setup a camaraderie between Charlie and Deuteronomy, the band’s other (ultimately fired) roadie, so he can explain the peculiarity of the amp situation. This is a sound mystery, which helps a lot.

But there’s a lot of other lovely little touches here that are just clever or fun. For one thing, I got a big kick out of John Hodgman as the pleated khaki drug-seeker who everyone assumes is a narc, but who turns out to be just an unusually white bread metal fan. For another, I appreciate the foreshadowing that the band Doxxxicology is opening for likes to do viral “pranks”, which Charlie gets inadvertently wrapped up in, exposing her to Cliff. (And their ensuing chase scene through the concert is nice.) The little things really enhance this one.

What I love most, though, is the throughline of Gavin being a “magpie”, as Charlie puts it. (Another Mountain Goats reference?) He doesn’t come up with anything wholly original. He simply sews together bits and pieces of what he’s heard and seen. (Which, in fairness, isn’t drastically different than how all artists create.) Charlie identifies that ahead of time. So after his death, it gives her a fantastic Keyser Soze moment when she’s able to use the detritus he left in her cars to trace the lyrics of Ruby’s new hit, and realize he wrote it. It’s such a clockwork little event.

The capper, though, is that it’s ultimately what dooms the band. I should have known better in a Rian Johnson production, but I’d assumed that Gavin annoying the rest of the band by laughing along to Benson in the back of the tour bus was just an amusing bit of texture. The fact that it telegraphs the fact that he stole the riff for “Sucker Punch” from the show’s theme, which scuttles Doxxxicology’s big comeback, is a beautiful bit of poetic comeuppance. And there’s grand irony in the fact that Ruby and company worked so hard to steal something that was already stolen, and it being their downfall.

I also like the variety here that for once, Charlie’s bullshit detection skills aren't really the cinch. When she confronts Ruby, Ruby admits it straight out, but brushes it off as simply doing what was necessary and preventing Charlie from being able to go anywhere with it. This isn’t some baroque conspiracy. Ruby’s upfront and open-eyed about this, which makes her scarier but weirdly more admirable than some of our other murderers this season (relatively speaking, of course). She doesn’t try to deflect or lie. (Which, uh, doesn’t excuse the murder.) It makes her a more interesting, or at least varied culprit, than some we’ve seen so far.

And for a second, I thought they were going to get away with it! Honestly, I hope that at some point, for all Charlie’s guile and intelligence, the practicality of her circumstances mean she’s not able to bring the bad guys to justice. I thought that's what this was, which would be a nicely bittersweet way to end a story like this one. But once more though, the script delivers a nice doozy, with the “Murder Muffin”-style podcaster Charlie ran into at the co-working space becoming the source of public exposure for Ruby and company’s misdeeds. Again, I thought Charlie riffing with a murder-solving podcaster was just a fun, wry bit, but the way it circles back to being plot-relevant is masterful.

Overall, this was an outstanding episode, that showed off one of the show’s more creative and poetic mystery-solving routines, embedded in one of its most interesting character setups so far. And the fact that it includes one of the best singer-songwriters of all time in the mix makes for a wonderful bonus.

[7.5/10] “The Stall” is an interesting installment, because my reaction to it was opposite to the first two episodes of Poker Face. For those, my reaction was, “Yes, yes, the mystery is certainly cool, but I’m having more fun just spending time with these characters.” And yet, for “The Stall” the characters are perfectly fine, but I was more captivated by how Charlie solved the mystery.

That's not to say the characters are bad by any stretch of the imagination. Getting Lil Rel Howery of Get Out fame is a boon, and he’s perfectly cast as Taffy, the showboating entrepreneurial half of a brother-run barbecue company. His more sensitive and meticulous sibling, George, has a strong but sensitive presence all his own. And George’s wife, Mandy, does the “steel behind the southern smile” bit well. The setting of an outdoor picnic bench restaurant and mobile home works to mix up the show’s rotating set of backdrops.

The catch is that the details here -- wife conspires and cheats with her husband’s brother when he threatens to bring down their golden goose -- is a bit stock as crime drama plots go. The real flash comes in how Taffy and Mandy pull it off, with a nice alibi in the form of Taffy doing his radio show via recording during the murder, with a live call-in before and after to give plausible deniability, and some creative (and poetic) logistics in the form of Taffy locking his brother’s door from the outside using his trademark dental floss and poisoning George with the exhaust from his own smoker.

The one character-focused element of this one I really liked was Charlie’s interactions with the “fascist dog” who proves to be the break in the case. Her being annoyed by, but also protective of, the yappy little mutt turns out to be a lot of fun. It adds texture to the story, beyond the pup’s relevance to the mystery plot, since seeing Charlie rail against but also look after the pup is alternatingly hilarious and adorable.

But what I really like here is how Charlie ends up investigating and solving the case. Her fast friendship with George is a little too quickfire (as is inevitable for any of these single-serving stories), but you buy their bond enough for George’s “listen to the symphony” message about tastes and smells to sink in. The composer for this one deserves an award, because the way the score sells Charlie’s internal ability to tell where the wood lodged in the dog’s skull came from, not to mention recognize Taffy’s involvement in the door-locking, through little stings and melodies that expertly convey what she’s thinking and detecting.

Likewise, I love the involvement of Austin, the bored theater major at the radio station who puts on different voices to populate an entire programming block’s worth of different personalities. The entire time Charlie was figuring out what happened here, I wondered to myself how she would turn this all into proof enough to convict the evildoers, since it’s largely circumstantial and tough to meet evidentiary standards with.

But Austin is the perfect cinch. Setting up his voice-changing abilities, and then using him to imitate Taffy to (1.) get Mandy to turn on him and then (2.) use Mandy’s own recorded phone conversation with “Taffy” to incriminate her is beautiful. It’s a little too neat and easy, but Charlie taking George’s lesson on “the stall” in a different metaphorical direction, holding Taffy in place with rhetorical cul de sacs long enough for Mandy to show up and sic the cops on him, is a fun enough tribute to the deceased to help the medicine go down.

Throw in some other nice details like George having his vegan change of heart thanks to a bevy of “friendly pig” movies, and the fascist pup ending up cuddled at Austin’s feet, and you have a Poker Face episode that diverts from the previous two, by setting up a mystery and ploy that's more fun than the people and place it occupies. Like someone at a barbecue buffet, I appreciate the variety!

[7.7/10] My favorite part of this episode is the first twenty minutes or so, which have more in the way of intimate and spine-chilling vignettes than they are a murder mystery. That's all good! It’s okay for the show to have different featuresdifferent weeks. But the upshot is that i was more invested in the characters and their little world than in Charlie unraveling the mystery this week.

I especially like the opening bit, where young mechanic Jed, is creeping on adjacent minimart clerk Sara, before an intervention from sandwich artist and ex-marine Damian. It’s a tidy little morality play. Damian is friendly with Sara and generous with her. The two are cute in a way that's instantly resonant. Jed is, by contrast, an unwelcome presence, clearly making Sara uncomfortable.

The ensuing confrontation on the roof of a mechanic shop which is Jed’s vantage point to spy on his crush is riveting. You see the dpeeth of Jed’s unsettling attitude, one that is self-aggrandizing in his hown “like a god” self-estimation, and which shows the tribute to Damian’s positive attitude and willingness to put in work to make the most of his circumsmtances rather than blame it all on bad luck. The contrast between Damaian’s empathy for someone who isn’t necessarily worthy of it, and Jed’s sense of entitlement collides when Damian wins the lottery, and Jjed murders him because it’s a bridge too far after he sees someone who seems to have all the luck, in his misugided view of how the world work, get head of him yet again.

Likewise, I love the interactions between our protagonist Cahrlie and Marge, and off-the-grid trucker who ends up getting framed for the murder. Marge seems to be Charlie’s equal, showing her kindness with a savvy that arguably saves Charlie’s life. The tips about superglue to close up wounds and how to get along without leaving a trail are key to Charlie’s future survival. As with Sara and Damian, Charlie and Marge have an instant rapport and chemistry that makes you buy why Charlie would stick her neck out for this woman she just meant, which helps preserve economy when all of this needs to be established quickly.

From there, the ymstery elements are fine, but not quite as compelling. Again, the show plays fair with the clues, with Charlie noting Jed’s lies, and tying it to details ike the camera footage of the tarpover her car being difference from moment to moment, and an elbaorte song-based scheme to get dashcam footage that might exonerate Marge. Watching Charlie piece the clues together and have tense of charming itneractions with the residents of this pitstop are all solid. I especially like the conceit of Charlie having only four hours to solve the mystery, lest Cliff use the fact of an ATM ping to locate and kill her.

It just doesn’t have the same oomph as those first two acts of the episode, which are more founded on character.

That said, I like the theme here. Jed blames his problems and failure to reach his potential on outside factors, when really it seems to be his own fault. The show has empathy for him, with Damian talking about the monotony and how it can lead to obsession. (There’s shades of Chris Moltisanti’s “regularness of everyday life ”speech in The Sopranos there.) But it also shows him trying to drag down Damian’s achievements to make himself look better, usurp someone else’s life to get out of town, and try to live the blueprint of the man he just killed to raise himself up. It’s perverse and sad, with Jed as both a figure of revulsion and pity, a tough balance to strike that Poker Face hits perfectly. There’s an idea of luck being a scapegoat In all this, when really it’s choices -- to see the positives and strive for more or give into stupor and blame everyone else -- that make the difference.

The performances are still very good though. Natasha Lyonne continues to shine as Charlie, giving her a rough-and-tumble eccentric edge that makes you enjoy spending time with her whether she’s solving mysteries or pestering truckers. And Colton Ryan does particularly good work as Jed, making him seem creepy and menacing in the right ways, while also showing that melancholy side of someone who feels life owes them something they’ve been denied.

There’s other nice grace notes here, from Sara throwing Cliff off of Charlie’s trail as a way to show those choices and acts of compassion paying off, to Jed’s uncle (John Ratzenberger!) recognizing his nephew’s skullduggery and disowning the kid who violates his innate decency. I even like Jed burning up the winning lottery ticket, which you can read either as him accepting the theme that luck is not an excuse by destroying the symbol of it, or as him refusing to learn the lesson and simply destroying some key evidence. It works either way.

Overall, Poker Face is two-for-two, with an episode that does better at character work and vignettes than at the mystery side, but which is still well worth enjoying for that alone.

[8.3/10] Great start to the season, and one that's helping to fill the Better Call Saul-shaped hole in my heart with all its desert imagery and crime drama. I love the vibes here. You can tell Rian Johnson and company are going for a seventies throwback vibe, which works with the mystery material. The non-linear storytelling and small time thugs angle plays like a self-conscious Tarantino homage (which aligns with the Pulp Fiction shout out and the fact that we never get to find out what exactly was on Mr. Cane’s computer.) And there’s the talky, wry, clockwork mystery vibe to the whole thing that Johnson himself regularly brings to the table.

Natasha Lyonne is great as Charlie, the down-on-her-luck cocktail waitress with a gift for detecting someone’s lies. It’s the sort of humane, hardscrabble, but eccentric individual with an extraordinary gift that Johnson’s shown a talent for writing before. (See: the protagonist of Knives Out). Lyonne completely lives the character, making this lovable weirdo seem real and endearing despite what an outsized character she is. There’s an improvisational, loyal, decency to Charlie that makes her fun to spend time with.

The plot is strong too. This is a mystery episode with no mystery, since the audience sees what happens from the jump. But the fun is in watching Charlie use her gift to steadily unravel what happened to her good friend who was brutally murdered by her bosses, at the same time she gets caught up in Sterling the Casino manager’s byzantine scheme to cheat one of the casino’s “whales.”

The whale plot is a distraction, just a reason for Charlie to get involved in the proceedings. But the way she starts piecing together things amiss, from her best friend’s supposed killer holding the murder weapon with his non-dominant hand, to news footage that confirms he didn’t have the gun when he was “escorted” out of the casino and so couldn't have used it to kill his wife. The clues are there, and when Charlie dredges up the evidence, it feels earned.

There’s also some good thematic and character work. Adrien Brody breathes great life into Sterling, the Casino manager who’s given the job as a make-right from a father who considers him a fuck-up and whom he wants to prove wrong. There’s some thematic resonance with Charlie trying to get justice for Nataie, after Charlie slated herself for seeing problems in the world but never doing anything to fix them, whereas Natalie took a stand upon witnessing an injustice and lost her life for it. Even the “hit him where it hurts” reversal has some good resonance given the setup and payoff of it.

I’m less enamored with the storytelling engine of Charlie going on the run while her old boss sends his goon to chase her after his son commits suicide in the aftermath of her play. But this is going for an old school vibe, so I suppose I can live with the conceit.

Overall though, this is another win for Rian Johnson, full of style and character that don’t detract from the sharp writing and organic fun and wry sensibility he manages to inject into almost all of his projects.

Wow, what a finale. I'm...immensely satisfied. It was so good. So now, we have confirmation that the supernatural is real, right? At least to a certain extent. David had an actual vision that could've very well been from God, and not a drug-induced vision. Depending on how you look at it, I guess his drug-induced visions could've been from God as well, and the drug-induced part just acted as a plot device to make you uncertain, for there to be a possibility of it going either way. Then there's Kristen, who was implied to have killed Orson, implied. We never saw it happen, but it probably was her. Only if it was, it wasn't, as the ending gave more credibility to the supernatural being real on top of David's real vision, among other things throughout the show, with a crucifix burning an imprint on her hand, suggesting that she's possessed. I don't see how that can be explained and played off as not being supernatural. Even more so, I don't see how people can still be uncertain whether or not the supernatural is real, after watching this episode. At the very least, the writers could still go the ambiguous route, in the second season, instead of going the supernatural route completely and embracing it, in the sense that there will still be occurrences that won't be downright supernatural, or in a better-worded sense, occurrences with open-ended conclusions.

8.5/10 - Yeah, that prison break was absolutely epic! :) It's not over yet though.... :o I hope most of them will make it off the planet alive. Could be extremely difficult though - especially if the Empire sends reinforcements and if there is little to no population on that planet.

It's a good thing that the Imperials still don't get their stuff pentested (to save costs?). That access hatch should've been better secured, the electric floors should be on separate circuits (plus that concept probably doesn't really work - especially if you're standing on one foot), they lack proper security doors / access controls (especially on the case of the control room - you should only be able to open those doors from the inside!), and it looks like they have much more weapons around that required and those weapon arsenals are unprotected! Together with the lack of guards, monitoring/surveillance, etc. a pentest would've probably resulted in a F- security rating xD

But I'm glad that they made all of these mistakes and that the prisoners could escape the prison (and hopefully soon from the planet as well)! :)

"Too late."
"You shouldn't be here."
"I'll turn it off."

I'm just irritated that they left those two guards in the control room (at least briefly unsupervised!). The next guys likely shot them but they should've knocked them out just in case they could cause trouble with their system access (even on backup power - this probably means that they cannot turn on the floors but there are still doors, etc.).

It sucks that that guy can't swim. I really hope he'll make it out with some help or another way!

[7.6/10] The prison story here is my favorite for a simple reason -- it’s ultimately a character story, and about someone you might not expect. Yes, it’s Andor instigating the doubts and trying to find a way to break out of this shithole of a factory. But it’s ultimately a story about convincing Kino, who’s become so institutionalized that he buys the company line entirely, that the people promising him his freedom if he flies on the straight and narrow are not only full of crap, they don’t even care about him or any of the prisoners to begin with.

I appreciate that about the progression here. Kino is banking on playing the game. He is a prisoner, but he’s a tool of the guards. He has a little bit of power, and maybe some extra treatment and privileges because of it, so he does their bidding. Andor is an agitator. He’s cutting lines in the bathroom, conspiring with other prisoners to figure out where the floor isn’t electrified, and asking about how many guards are stationed on the floor.

Kino won’t actively punish him, maybe just because the foreman still needs a good worker like Cassian to help keep his shift’s stats up. But he won’t help either. He won’t give up that information. Because he believes in the central idea of this place. If you just stay on the right side of the line and do your job, eventually you’ll get out of here. He tells that to Ulaf, noting that he’s the “short timer” on the floor, with only a handful more shifts until he’s out of there.

And then the lie starts breaking down. Rumors start flying about everyone being deliberately fried on the second level. It’s whispered about at first, but eventually it’s confirmed. One hundred lives, snuffed out in a wave of electricity and burnt flesh. And for what? Because some of them were maybe acting up a bit, some guards thought. That’s it. That’s all it took. All of them gone.

So the lie goes up in smoke. So it turns out the trouble starts when someone who “got out” of level 4 showed up in level 2, and was a walking example of what a canard the idea that you can make it out of here. So Ulaf, who is so close to being free, is worked together and gets euthanized instead of helped when he starts to run into his own limitations. As another inmate says, they’re not men to their captor. They are a part of the machine, cheaper than droids and easier to replace. Kino finally realizes that, in the grim terms of seeing his comrades killed over nothing and his chances to get out evaporate. So his moment of aiding Andor, giving him the details he needs to start planning an escape, are strangely triumphant from someone who was an unquestioning part of that machine to this point.

The whole thing is a searing indictment of the prison industrial complex, taken through the lens of abstraction that speculative fiction provides, but no less piercing in its criticisms of how those who are vulnerable and stripped of their rights are treated in captivity. It’s one of the strongest stories Andor has told this season, which is saying something.

The other material in “Nobody’s Listening” is good, but can’t quite compare. I appreciate the reveal that Cinta’s “rich girl running away from her family” jab at Vel meant more than we thought. It turns out she’s Mon Mothma’s sister, and the two speak in hushed tones about their mutual activities. I like the idea that they’re both working for the Rebellion in different ways, a familial example of how it takes many hands to make this sort of thing happen.
The scene of Meero torturing Bix is suitbly tough to watch. Adria Arjona does a superb job at selling the slowly escalating horror of what she’s being subjected to until its bursts out in a crescendo of pain. The story of the Empire exterminating a planet’s worth of people to install a shipping port, only to weaponize the dying screams of their children, is wholly chilling. But it all does a good job of reinforcing why the Empire is so awful, why Bix would give up this information, and why Meero is not good, even if she’s good at her job.

Again, that’s the cognitive dissonance of this show. Meero is 100% the bad guy, but she’s so good at how she achieves all this, even boosting her assistant in a key moment as she rightly identifies the scheme of the Rebellion and the best way to smoke it out, that you can’t help but be impressed. Karn’s stalker with a crush routine is creepy as hell, especially when he’s yet again mixing up what he attributes to high minded ideals with his personal interests. But you can also get why someone who wants to be Meero, with what she accomplishes for the Empire and how expertly she does it, would mix up those feelings of aspiration with affection. It’s not so easy for the audience, who sees her torturing someone with the debilitating sounds of a people who’ve suffered a genocide.

Overall though, a quality episode that moves a number of interesting pieces in place for the convergence of these different characters and storylines, while also telling a strong individual story of what would provoke someone who’s been indoctrinated to the institutional point of view to have a change of heart.

Well, the fuse is lit and I expect there will be an explosion of sorts next week.

The tension and build up is again what keeps the ball rolling. You are given just enough to be on the edge yet don't get bored. The acting was really great. You could see the doubt rising in Kino about what will happen once you reach the end of your sentence. We saw a very dark side of Dedra interrogating Bix. And Syril is about to break (with that mother, who could blame him ?). He will be a major player in the story I think. And the result could be devastating.

We discover that Val is Mon's cousin. Not a huge surprise but I still found it interesting how the connections are revealed. I found the scene in the Senat Chamber with Mon especially depressing as it shows again a connection to our time. I'm not used seeing that from Star Wars but they are doing it right and I like that. And althought it was different in a way, it reminded me of Padmé speaking in that same Chambers:

"So this is how liberty dies...with thunderous applause."

which I think is one of the best quotes out of Star Wars. And the scene now seems to be picking up on that liberty is now really dead.

I wonder when they will discover that they already have Andor in custody. Probably after the break. But it makes sense that in a system like the Empire such details get lost in the amount of information at hand. Althought I found the reference "he was shaven and had money and the rebels on Adhani were shaven, too" a bit ridiculous.

[7.7/10] Man, the scenes in the prison on the titular planet are demoralizing. I will say this for Andor -- with so much episodic real estate to work with, it never stops giving us a sense of place at every location. The pristine white look of the facility, the constant motion of the factory floor, the “floor is lava”-style sleeping pods lined up in a row -- all make this feel like a machine where human beings are treated like interchangeable cogs.

They really convey the sense of hopelessness, injustice, and resignation that grinds down Cassian. The way the guards treat the prisoners as barely human, with electrified floors and talking like they’re not even there, strikes you immediately. The way they’ve gamified what is effectively slavery -- forcing prisoners to compete with one another on productivity measures with the winners getting food with flavors and the losers getting “fried” -- is horrifying. The simple fact that they’re in a constant state of forced labor, made to think their worth depends on how much machinery they can produce, is grim as all hell.

And after 30 shifts, Cassian, who legitimately didn’t do anything to deserve this sentence, just goes along with the program. What else can he do? The swift “justice”, with escalated sentences and even those inside the prisons facing increased terms, feels intolerable. You can sadly understand why someone chooses to end it all on the electrified floor rather than face another day of it, and the grimmest thing of all is how the fellow prisoners mainly gripe about the smell and the fact that they’ll be short a man. That’s how internalized this treatment becomes. The critique here isn’t subtle, but it’s potent, and bringing in ringers like Star Wars vet Andy Serkis to play Andor’s fellow prisoners-turned-foreman helps elevate the material as well.

The injustice of it all is highlighted by the juxtaposition between the conditions of the prisoners on Narkina 5 and the luxury that Mon Mothma and her cohort enjoy at one of their fancy cocktail parties. The cuts back and forth are damning, with people suffering in the endless trudge of their sentence while the well-heeled academically debate the legislation of the day that the inmates are so worried about.

You can feel the net tightening around Mothma a bit, as even her friend from home warns her that things are getting trickier amid the crackdown, and fellow senators are all too eager to believe the Emperor’s proclamations that they need more in the way of security. Lord knows I’m once burned twice shy about Star Wars delving into a legislative agenda, but the prospect of Palpy trying to pass the space equivalent of the Patriot Act makes for good political fodder here.

This is the consequence of the operation on Aldhani. I appreciate that, unlike even the great Empire Strikes Back, this show takes the time to show that the Rebellion’s big victories don’t just result in blowback for the people fighting, but rather results in a broader harshness toward everyone deemed disfavored. There’s a human cost to this, ways in which the innocent suffer and all suffer more than is fair, when fascist enterprises decide to tighten their fists.

Despite that, it’s hard not to be compelled by Meero. Her call to Admiral Yularen to basically fund a counter-Rebellion strike force is, of course, a bad thing for all of us rooting for the Rebellion that will one day inspire Luke Skywalker to join up. But she’s also exceedingly competent at her job, and she’s right at a time when the top brass seem to be skeptical. Seeing her marshal evidence and support is cool, even if, in our heart of hearts, we want her to fail.

It’s also cool to see Meero and Karn cross paths. Despite everything, Karn is still a true believer. He’s not satisfied with being in the Empire’s boring bureaucracy, but wants to clear his name, stop a murderer, and prove his worth. As Superintendent Chalmers might say, the rod up his ass has a rod up its ass, but once again, there's something strangely compelling about someone pursuing a cause with all his will against some tough odds. Something tells me that despite Meero’s warnings, he’ll be pulled into the fold and hunt for Andor eventually.

Only the ISB’s not the only one hunting for Andor. Vel is on Ferrix hoping to smoke him out. Honestly, we haven't gotten enough shading to her and Cinta’s relationship to make it feel too impactful when they have to put the cause over their affections, but it’s still a solid beat. Maarva falling ill and Bix not being able to find Andor is likewise a solid development. And while it’s mainly a tease, Meero’s arrival on Ferrix, and her harsh interrogation techniques on Bix’s comms guy and, soon, on Bix herself, portends scary and momentous things to come.

Oh yeah, and we get a cameo from none other than Forest Whitaker as Saw Guerrera! I swear, Whitaker must really enjoy the role, because I’m pretty sure he’s popped up in at least one Star Wars project per year since Rogue One came out. I’m not complaining though. I like how this positions Luthen as someone not simply trying to cause trouble for the Empire, but trying to unite the disparate groups and columns who are fighting the Imperials into one unified Rebel Alliance. We know, of course, the effort works out eventually. But I like his coy exchanges with Saw, and I like the explanation for why it hasn’t happened yet -- none of these scattered groups trust each other enough to work together. Luthen trying to build a genuine network, a real collaboration to make a difference, is a neat way to frame his ultimate goals.

Overall, this is more of a piece-moving episode than one where the real drama happens. But the exceptions are the scenes set in the prison, which are another triumph of production, performance, and societal critique which drive home the myriad, pernicious ways in which the Empire is making life worse for everyone.

[9.5/10] This is some top tier Star Wars. Here’s the thing that makes “The Eye” so impressive. You pretty much know that this has to work. You know, given Rogue One, that Cassian makes it out alive. You know from the nature of Star Wars, even this more grounded, grittier version of Star Wars, that the rebel mission almost certainly succeeds. And yet, this is still as exciting, tense, and full of meaning as you could hope for given the degree of setup we’ve had to this point.

That is an achievement. It speaks to the level of craft on display. Heist stories lend themselves to these qualities, but you have to believe the stakes of the mission, care about the characters, and feel the risks even if you intellectually know they’ll be overcome.

We buy the stakes of the mission not just because of the gold in the vault, but because of the devotion of those on the ground, and the anxieties of Luthen and Mon Mothma. We care about the characters because we had two episodes to learn their backstories, understand why they’re in this fight in the first place, and watch them bounce off of one another. And we feel the risks at play because of the superb production and texture at play, with crisp choices in editing and riveting score that play up the peril in any given moment.

Even now, the show isn’t done. We’re introduced to the Commandant of the Aldhani outpost, who is another functionary in an unhappy marriage, with just enough texture to his family to show us he cares but is a bad guy. We see the way both he and the colonel look down upon the locals. We witness how the indigenous people of this place are marginalized, condescended to, treated like uninvited guests in their own land. The atmosphere of why this fight wafts like incense through the entire episode.

And like all great heist stories, things go wrong. The timing is off, to where people are late and they can’t ship out all the payroll they wanted. Vel is hesitant, continuing her unease at being the leader despite appearances to the contrary, before finally deciding to pull the trigger on the operation. One enterprising corporal realizes something is off when the comms go down, and he brings a squadron of soldiers down to the vault to investigate. Enough goes right to where we can buy our heroes’ success, but enough goes wrong to where they earn it.

That includes the loss of life here. When it comes to storytelling, meaningful victories come with a cost. Who knows what happens to Lt. Gorn and to Cinta, who are left behind and seem likely to suffer the consequences of their hand in this robbery. Taramyn dies fairly quickly, which, candidly, is no great loss considering how little shading he got. If anything, we find out his interesting backstory -- that he’s a former stormtrooper who chose to join the Rebellion -- just in time for him to perish.

You feel it for Nemik though. He’s the young idealist. He absolves Andor, saying that mercenaries are a necessary part of their revolution, no matter what he believes. He almost makes it out, surviving the assault from the corporal, but having his insides crushed in the great escape, a bitter irony. His chances for survival are compromised when Vel using the sci-fi equivalent of a jolt of adrenaline to keep him alive just long enough to provide Cassian the coordinates to pilot his way out of there, possibly compromising his chances to recover. And he dies on the operating table, despite the valiant efforts of a sympathetic doctor (who looks like a cross between Maz Kanata and Dexter Jettster), bequeathing his manifesto to Cassian.

Here is idealism crushed under the bootheel of necessity. Here is innocence ground up under the wheels and treads of a rebellion that must roll through the muck. Here is a symbol for what’s inspiring about the alliance to restore the republic -- someone who is green but genuinely believes in freedom and justice and a better world for all -- sacrificed in the name of ensuring others have the lucre necessary to carry on that dream. His is a loss that’s felt, but feeling that loss helps turn the heart of our protagonist.

I like that Andor isn’t suddenly a true believer. (Presumably that’ll take half a dozen more episodes at least.) He doesn’t want the manifesto. He never wanted to be a part of this in the first place. But it’s hard to see such genuine idealism, paid for with the price of one’s life, and not be at least a little moved. The operation on Aldhani has been an exercise in Andor comprehending the sort of cause that good men and women would devote themselves to, and it’s a first step toward believing in the same.

That ties into the echo of arguably his most memorable scene in Rogue One. Skeen seemed like a kindred spirit, a true believer who’d nonetheless been through the shit as much as Andor has. And indeed he has. But he came out that much more cynical and craven, thinking he’s found a fellow fox in the henhouse, ready to climb over their comrades if it gets them comfortable and unencumbered. He wants to steal the winnings and split them 50/50.

So Andor shoots him. It mirrors the way he shoots the informant at the beginning of Rogue One, defining his characteristic as someone willing to take the most direct route between her and his goals, no matter how bloody. But here the goal is a noble one, to stop someone from thwarting the purpose of this mission, from betraying those who gave their lives to liberate those funds for a better cause. He may claim that he simply wants to win and walk away, but you can appreciate his good-for-nothing decency here. He wants his cut and to get out, but he won’t let these people down in the process.

The little glimpses we get of the reaction to this event are just enough to whet our appetites for more. Watching the ISB scramble while Major Partagaz instructs the lot they won’t be going home tonight signifies how big a deal this is. Seeing the Senate (I guess they repaired it after Palpy tossed it around) murmur in shock while Mon Mothma is mid-speech communicates how this event resonates through the halls of government as well. And there may be no moment more cathartic in the episode than Luthen laughing with relief and letting out one big exhale, a sign that the mission he staked so much on went off.

Along the way, the creative team delivers its thrills and then some. The suspense as the rebel crew await the signal to go is supreme. The juxtaposition of their duress-filled operation inside and the celebration of the native Aldhanis on the outside helps put this individual mission in a broader context, giving it an almost spiritual dimension and reminding us of those hurt by the Empire’s actions. And the simple starfighter chase between the freighter and the tie-fighters through a sci-fi aurora borealis is magnificent, showing how Cassian and Namik earn their stripes and this desperate mission just barely succeeds.

It is a tour de force, if you’ll pardon the expression. Even if you’d watched no other episodes of Andor, could appreciate this heist story for the pure craft alone, with how it sets up what’s at stake on the mission, the bumps in the road, and the catharsis of success. Yet, it also pays off so much character building and setup along the way, to where it rightly feels like the culmination of this three-episode arc, and much more. And in the broader scope of the franchise, it helps you understand the character journey of the title character, and the wider cause of the rebellion, in riveting terms. What more can you ask for?

I don't usually write TV reviews (too daunting of a task, as I watch a lot of TV), but I was so surprised by all of the criticism and lukewarm comments that I felt the need to throw my two cents in. To put it simply, the writing on this show is leaps and bounds above the writing on all other franchise TV released by Disney+ to date (Star Wars/Marvel). Maybe audiences are just used to the blunt force writing we often see in those other shows, where we are spoon fed on the nose dialogue that tells us exactly what is happening and how we should feel about it. I, for one, much prefer some nuance and subtlety in my TV, and that's what this show delivers. We get to piece together Cassian's plan without ever needing the show to spell things out. It's refreshing and engaging.

Moving to the smaller scale writing, I don't know how someone can watch the introduction scene of Syril Karn and Chief Hyne and not recognize the absolutely top notch dialogue, performances, characterization, story telling, etc. It does so many things at once, and it does them all brilliantly. And that's just one scene! The first episode has many that are equally impressive. As far as criticisms go, I will acknowledge that the opening four or five minutes were a little underwhelming. However, once we get to the actual instigating event, which happens around minute seven or eight, we get another example of excellent writing, dialogue, and performances.

All in all, easily the best Star Wars content we've seen since Rogue One.

“OBI-WAN: PART VI”: A RUNNING OPINIONARY

:white_check_mark:88% :thumbsup:14 :thumbsdown:2 = Great!

Observation:
We're back on Tatooine! I have been missing his outer rim planet that we've been visiting so rarely in recent years!

I quite enjoy how this episode feels like the third act of an unmade Star Wars film - it's dark, depressing and desperate, with the Empire closing in and Ben doing everything in his power to lure them away from their pray.

I'm still loving the mix of Original Trilogy era sets and models and slick visual effects!

Not sure what to think of the entire Luke plot line they crammed into this last episode - they are perhaps leaning a bit too much on fan service now and messing with events established in A New Hope (Owen and Beru are badass, though!).

The lightsaber rematch between Ben and Vader - need I say more? I love how intimate it feels and how the camera shakes along and how the actors put their hearts into every stroke of their sabres. The second round of this duel is probably the most emotional, lightsaber fight we've seen so far.

This one share a common problem with many series finales these days - it's occasionally so darkly lit that it's difficult to see what's going on.

All around great performances, especially from Ewan McGregor, every person bringing Vader alive as well as Joel Edgerton.

Ben's final moments with Vader and their short conversation sent shivers down my spine!

Well, of course they threw in a little cameo from Ian McDiarmid as well! Not to mention the one and only Liam Neeson!

It's nice how there is plenty of time devoted to goodbye and slower emotional moments in the end, as that allows the narrative to tie up any loose ends and provide a good bridge leading to the original movies and any subsequent protects set after this one.

First and foremost. I stand firm on my opinion that you like all of Star Wars in it’s entirety or you’re not a Star Wars fan. These comments are atrocious. The writing was wonderful and sentimental, they couldn’t have a grand revelations or changes because they have to keep within canon confines, the fight scenes were great you just expected more from ageing characters and actors, the dialogue was sentimental and wonderful, and the parallels between the fight in rebels was intentional perhaps to create a similar level of emotional resonance between Ashoka and Obi Wan, maybe use your brains damn.

I loved this series, it gave me just enough new insight to be engaging and fresh but kept true to the bones of the show. It was good to see Obi Wan struggle with his connection to the force over the shows run, and it was so magical having Leia, playing her theme at the end wrecked me and brought me right back to Carrie, the intentional fan service of “Hello There” was perfect, and you really went out there and got Liam Neeson. I appreciated every second of this show and I am so grateful it was made.

That being said. This works perfectly as it is, additional seasons would be unnecessary in my opinion.

“OBI-WAN: PART IV”: A COMMENTARY

:heart:100% :thumbsup:19 :thumbsdown:0 = Masterpiece!

Part IV turns the series into something of a heist movie, similar in style to Rogue One, where Ben and his new allies sneak into the dragon’s den to save Leia - and it's as tense as you'd expect it to be. This episode really puts Ben's old Jedi skills to the test, forcing him to rely on the Force more than before.

This is arguably Moses Ingram's best episode so far, and she is truly hitting her stride her when performing opposite the relentlessly impressive Vivien Lyra Blair. Indira Varma is convincing in her double take as a secret rebel leader and a fake Imperial officer.

The narrative is very straightforward and simple, but it keeps adding fuel to the fire at all times, adding to the tension and keeping a good pace throughout. The short lightsaber sequence in the dark room is gorgeous and the action scenes that follow are the best ones yet!

I love how they continuously visualize Ben's trauma and PTSD after everything he's been through with Anakin. It's not something we've seen often in Star Wars! I also love how well this series keeps mixing the original trilogy (the bacta tank, the look of the Empire) with the prequel trilogy (Mustafar system, diving underwater).

[7.7/10] Attack of the Clones is not my favorite Star Wars movies, but it did have one of my favorite interludes in the Prequels -- “Obi-Wan Kenobi: Space Detective.” While Anakin was off making goo-goo eyes at Padme, Obi-Wan was on the trail of the bounty hunter who’d tried to assassinate the senator, and steadily worked his way to Jango Fett. Watching him ply various contacts and sniff his way through the trail was one of the better-plotted and more exciting stretches George Lucas put together in his second jaunt through the Star Wars universe.

So it’s nice, then, to have Chow, McGregor, and company effectively reprising that idea here in the Obi-Wan show. Seeing him work his way through spice dealers and fake Jedi and drug-manufacturing facilities to find the girl he means to rescue brings back a cool piece of Kenobi slipping back into his old business, still good at it, however reluctant he may be.

Plus, it provides an excuse for some fabulous texture. Daiyu is a fantastic setting, with a mix of neon-tinged rooftops, grimy alleyways, and crowded streets that give it a real sense of place. The figures who populate it, from dinosaur-esuqe bounty hunters to halting droids to alien-filled drug houses, give it a distinctiveness in aesthetic that catches the eye and adds to the atmosphere of the place. Feels like one of those instantly memorable locales the franchise will end up returning to again and again, if only for the “People like their secrets here” signal-blocking conceit.

But it’s not all detective work and aesthetics. One of the things I appreciate about “Part II” is that it doesn’t stall for time. I was pretty much expecting that we’d at least have an episode or two of Obi-Wan hunting for Leia and the Third Sister hunting for Obi-Wan. Instead, Kenobi finds his target in about twenty minutes, and the Second Sister I hot on its heels. It suggests this won’t be a show where we spin our wheels for episode after episode before moving things forward.

Finding Leia and evading the Inquisitors ends up requiring help from an unlikely source – Haja Estree. And I have to say, it’s unfair how utterly great Kumail Nanjiani is in everything. He is charming and hilarious as always as the con artists with a heart of gold working the streets of Daiyu. The simple concept of someone posing as a Jedi to add flourish to a smuggling and rescue business adds a fun flavor to this world and gives Obi-Wan sufficient reason to roll his eyes. Nanjiani makes I funny to see a muggle, as it were, use magnets and theatrical talk to pose as a member of the order.

I like the turn here though too. That for however venal Haja is, he’s up for helping the real deal not only find the princess he’s trying to rescue, but smuggle her off-world, and even stand in the way of the Inquisitor without fear. It adds layers to what could have been a one-note character and takes advantage of Nanjiani’ s talents.

As side characters go, I’m also a big fan of the cameo we get from Temura Morrison as an aging, down on his luck clone trooper begging on the streets. It’s not only a great way to help demonstrate that this show is part of the larger world of Star Wars, but to again remind Kenobi of heady days that ended up chewing up and spitting out so many of the people who lived through them.

But neither the clone trooper nor Haja can hold a cnadle to little Leia. I am so impressed with Vivien Lyra Blair, who is better at ten than most actors are at three times her age. And I love the dynamic between ehr an Obi-Wan. She is confident, self-possessed, and has a mind of her own, which are qualities that are both endearing in a little kid, and would also be a giant pain when trying to stealthily make your way off-world. The way Obi-Wan recognizes her precoiousness, while also trying to manage her through a crisis, and their repartee in the process, makes for a winning dynamic.

But Leia is also perceptive. She realizes that Obi-Wan is hiding something and realizes she ahs no proof that he is who he says he is. Why should she trust him? Why shouldn’t she believe he’s just another bounty hunter, or someone with bad intentions, or another fake Jedi? Her hesitance and recalcitrance serves a purpose to the plot, since it makes Kenobi’s mission to safely ferry her back home harder, but also one of character, where the two have to better understand one another and trust one another to make this thing work.

In the process, Obi-Wan references Padme, and you can kind of see it. She was a fairly underwritten character in the Prequels, and even in The Clone Wars show to a lesser extent. But you can at least draw a comparison between li’l Leia’s actions now and Padme’s in The Phantom Menace, even if she and Obi-Wan barely interacted on screen.

And yet, their dynamic reminds me much more of Obi-Wan and Anakin: the wizened master trying to play things straight and do things by the book, while his young Skywalker ward takes unnecessary risks and refuses to listen, while having the talent and skills to make such a freelancing spirit work.

Of course, that becomes all the more urgent when the Second Sister sics a city’s worth of bounty hunters on them. Two episodes in, and the Second Sister is still kind of dull and trope-y. We at least get a little more shading on her, since the rest of the Inquisitors apparently treat her shabby because she was rescued off the street, rather than being a former Jedi or other force-users of noble birth. So her quest to find Kenobi has a larger purpose, to rise her up the ranks. But the actress still comes off stiff and generic, and the screaming, “I’ll find you Kenobi! You can’t hide forever!” shtick at the end is such standard villain nonsense. There’s little in the writing or performance to really make her a compelling villain at this stage.

And yet, she reveals one key piece of information that rocks Obi-Wan to his core: Anakin is alive and became Darth Vader after their fateful duel on Mustafar. The twist is good. Kenobi clearly knows that Vader and Anakin are one and the same in A New Hope, so it’s natural to assume he’d pieced things together very quickly. But in hindsight, there’s no reason for Obi-Wan to assume that Anakin survived. Palpatine had plenty of apprentices and back-up apprentices in the past, and it’s not like Vader in all his armor is the spitting image of Anakin. Ahsoka was, arguably, much more active in the ensuing time, and had no idea. It’s not crazy to think Obi-Wan wouldn’t either.

But it changes things for Kenobi. His brother is still alive. Worse yet, he’s become a monster, worse than Obi-Wan had even known. The assumption of Anakin’s death makes the Jedi stashing Luke on Tatooine make a modicum more sense, but now it means that Obi-Wan knows of a greater danger to both of the children he’s striving desperately to protect. There is a chance to correct this mistake, to confront the sins of the past, coupled with the devastating realization that his failures are even worse than he thought.

Making amends begins with Leia though. The key scene in this episode comes when a mistrusting Leia is running away, while Obi-Wan tries to chase her and fend off bounty hunters at the same time. She cannot make a leap across a wide, Gotham City-like rooftop setting (might have needed a kiss on the cheek from her brother for luck), and loses her grip before plummeting to the ground below. It’s then that Obi-Wan uses The Force for the first time in what is likely ages, something that causes him strain. He must shake off the rust in desperate circumstances, reviving a part of himself that he’d long left closed off while proving his bona fides to his temporary ward in the process.

The moment comes with great catharsis. Once again, the Skywalkers have brought him back into another fine mess, forcing him to call on talents that had lay dormant for years. But once again, a young child believes in their master, and once again, a master makes himself vulnerable, in both his safety and his psyche, in order to protect them.

[7.6/10] I was expecting “Plan 99” to put a period on this season of The Bad Batch, if not on the whole series. Instead, this was more of a semicolon. Which is fine! There’s plenty more adventures to be had. But this finale plays more like a setup for season 3 than a conclusion to season 2.

Still, there’s good stuff here. I found Tech’s apparent demise unexpectedly affecting. I’ll admit, outside of his cave-dwelling episode with Omega, I’d never flt particularly strongly about th character. He’s perfectly fine, and serves a purpose in the group's mix. But he hadn't had a ton of depth to this point.

And yet, the noble sacrifice works. Regardless of how much shading he’s received, we’ve seen him traipsig through the galaxy with this crew since the beginning. Now, he sacrifices his life to save them. It’s hard to deny the power of that. The direction and score sell the moment like gangsbusters and give him one last moment of glory. THe tightrope walk along the tram’s cable, and the constant firefight while he works to get power back, sell the peril of the moment. The same goes for the shots of the cable car’s grip slipping on the railway as Tech dangles below.

The show’s creative team still knows how to build tension (no pun intended). Star Wars is a universe where folks always seem to be able to give a big dying speech before they perish. Something about Tech telling WRecker it’s Plan 99 time, his buddies being unwilling to let him go, and him saying “We never did follow orders” before he makes the call himself, situates his death in a broader camaraderie for the group and devotion to his friends. I didn’t expect his death to pierce me, but here we are.

(This all assumes he’s really gone. Star Wars logic suggests that if you haven't seen the body, they’ll be back eventually, and sometimes even if you have! Lord knows Echo came back from dire straits himself.)

I also appreciate the loss for the effect it has on Omega. I sometimes forget that this is a show meant to be accessible to kids. (And given the dark tone it takes sometimes, you can understand why.) But rooting this in her perspective, the difficulty of losing someone you care about, fearing you’ll lose the rest, helps drive home much this means to her, and what a struggle it is to be a child grappling with loss for the first time.

We also get the big Cid betrayal that's been hinted at for a while. She at least seems vaguely remorseful about it, but it’s part and parcel with the steady heel turn she’s taken over the course of this season. I have every expectation that, in true Star Wrs fashion, ti will be godder for her to do right by the Bad Batch down the line. But for now, it appropriately feels like kicking them when they’re down.

ANd we get some pretty big chances to the status quo, or so it seems. Dr. Helock kidnaps Omega and takes her to his clone research facility. The rest of the crew nearly gets arrested but has to go back on the run. Nala Se is strongarmed by Hemlock to continue working on what one can only presume is the Emperor’s cloning process that eventually produces the events of the Sequel Trilogy. And of most note, we find out that Emerie Karr is not just a random operative in the facility, but another clone, who considers herself Omega’s sister.

I don’t mind any of this stuff. Reveals that two characters are secretly related to one another in Star Wars became a bit ho-hum as a twist post-Return of the Jedi. And this was already a rescue mission. But hey, I’m still interested to watch season 3 and figure out how Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and AZ will get their friends back, so they must be doing something right. I just wish this felt more like a full-fledged conclusion to this storytelling cycle in its own right rather than a tease for the next one.

All that said, this was a great season of The Bad Batch, despite the odd dud, it deepened the characters, foregrounded the plight of the clones at the dawn of the Empire, and strengthened the politics, threats, and bonds that affect the characters. The show continues to be a gem in the Star Wars lineup, and I’m glad we’ll (presumably) have it for at least another year.

[7.5/10] This is mostly a table-setting episode, but the table-setting is good, so I can't complain too loudly. You need episodes like these to lay the groundwork for what I expert to be a rollicking finale. There’s not as much in terms of major developments, or at least conclusions, but it puts all the pieces in place for the climactic finale.

I can't gripe about a lack of action though. The opening rescue where Echo and other clone trooper rebels rescue their brothers from an Imperial prison transport is exciting as all get out. Watching them storm the transport, use a neat-looking “leech” vessel to sneak in, and retrieve their comrades and some important data before the “reinforcements” arrive is a thrill a minute. Along the way, The Bad Batch has gotten very good at constructing these standalone set pieces. Those scenes capture the energy and tension of a good Star Wars operation, while having some distinctive clone character. The excitement here is worth the price of admission.

And there’s a solid plot connection to. Echo and Rex are piecing together that the Empire is shopping out “dissident clones” to some mysterious location. Echo retrieves the data file, but the Imperial Commander was trying to delete it, so he needs Tech to decode it, providing an excuse for Echo to come to Pabu. The breadcrumbs are leading to the right places.

My only bit of whinging is that the Pabu sections feel the most like throat-clearing before the real fireworks begin. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see the setup of Omega’s flying lessons with Tech, or the warm reunion between her and Echo. But this mostly seems like a check-the-box reminder that Clone Force 99 is considering settling here permanently because they’ve fit in so well with the community, until an old friend gives them information about Dr. Hemlock, his facility, and Crosshair being trapped there. This is all necessary narrative piece-moving, but not the most compelling material.

And yet, the stuff with Crosshair is. His part of the story has become one of my favorites. He’s not a very talkative guy to begin with, so the show has to get more creative to illustrate the idea that he’s had a change of heart. Watching him submit to torture without giving up any information about the rest of the Bad Batch is heart-rending on multiple levels. Him using his one chance to break out of his cell not for an escape attempt, but to warn the rest of his brothers that the Empire is coming for Omega shows how much his perspective has shifted, and speaks to an appreciation for Omega after she saved him on Kamino.

The scenes are all shot and staged well to highlight Crosshair’s determination and Dr. Hemlock's menace, and provides the most drama and character of anything in this one. Somehow, along the way, Crosshair became this pathos-ridden, noble, suffering man who wants to look out for the people he once turned on, and it may be my favorite thing from this season.

Overall, there’s nothing too major in this one. It’s plainly putting in the pieces that lead to the final chapters of this story. But the pieces are good, so it’s tough to be too unhappy with any of it.

[7.5/10] Could The Bad Batch be headed for its endgame? It seems unlikely. There’s a ton of irons left in the fire, from the bad blood with Cid, to the newly-introduced Dr. Hemlock and his experiments at an Imperial cloning facility, to the Empire hunting Omega, and so on and so on. Could you tie all of those things up in three episodes? Sure, but it would take a lot, and feel like tamping something down when it’s just getting started.

Still, the disappointing Star Wars Resistance shut down after only two seasons, despite having some loose threads still waving in the wind. And more to the point, Phee taking Clone Force 99 to Pabu, an island paradise far away from the Empire’s notice, seems like a legitimate possible endpoint for our heroes. The planet purportedly has no resources that would lead outsiders to bother them, and welcomes refugees to its shores who want to live a different sort of life. With questions from Phee about whether Omega might need a more stable environment, and such a welcoming environment from the jump, this could be where the Bad Batch chooses to settle down permanently, ending their adventures with a certain happy ever after as recompense for years and years of war.

Granted, it seems pretty clear that Omega’s presence is going to bring the Empire to Pabu’s shores eventually. But in the meantime, I like the fact that the first half of this episode is as much about atmosphere as anything. It’s about painting Pabu as a wonderful place apart. Omega finds a friend her own age, something Phee underlines as important. Hunter contemplates whether this is a place he could be a father to her, give her the kind of peace away from dangerous missions with duplicitous lowlifes like Cid that she deserves. Wrecker seems to get on with the town Mayor, suggesting a friendly partnership (and full stomach) that he could get used to. And Tech and Phee seem to be melting a little bit beyond their cordial relationship, with Phee emphasizing how much she must like them to bring them here. There’s a communal, peaceful air to all of this.

Much of that owes to the sheer atmosphere crafted by the animators, directors, and other craftspeople at play here. Pabu feels like a warm paradise, with gorgeous vistas, sunlight landscapes, and attention to detail in the homes and implements of the people of Pabu. You get, on an instinctual level, why someone would want to stay here, beyond the explicit warm welcome and other thematic beats here. It’s a real tribute to the slow pace and soothing rhythms the show adopts to underscore that fact.

Of course, it can’t all be peaceful in Star Wars. So naturally, there’s a tidal wave coming. I’ll admit to finding it super convenient that there just so happens to be a tidal wave right when The Bad Batch shows up, but I’m willing to forgive the contrivance of it. The ensuing set piece is good. Omega is in danger when sailing on her friend’s boat, which creates some peril for them to escape and race to shore, while Hunter springs into action to rescue them. Tech and Phee helping the villagers from below the retaining wall requires some ingenuity and teamwork, which is always good. And Wrecker carrying the town’s resident old man up before it’s too late, and rescuing the mayor, is a nice beat for him too.

Again, much of this plays as a touch too convenient, but you can see why the Bad Batch would be valuable to the community, to help rescue and rebuild, and you can see why they might want to settle down in such a supportive community, which promises the possibility of freedom from the fight they’ve been having for so long. I don’t know if it’ll last. The lucrative prospect of more adventures, more dramatics, more episodes, and more subscribers seems to augur in favor of the contrary. But with all the time spent on making this a potential destination for Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech, you could be forgiven for thinking The Bad Batch might be listing toward The End.

[8.5/10] Somewhere along the line, Crosshair became one of the most interesting characters not just in The Bad Batch, but in Star Wars as a whole. He’s a clone, which is always a good start. But he’s one who’s genuinely loyal to the Empire. Republic? Empire? Either way, they’re taking orders from the bosses. That's what they’ve been trained for. Bred for. In his mind, the rest of the Bad Batch are the traitors, for deciding to walk away from something they’ve been loyal to since they were born and leaving him behind. He’s the hero in his own mind, staying a steadfast part of the organization and institutions they’ve sacrificed so much to protect.

Only now, he’s realizing that the Empire doesn’t return that loyalty. Lieutenant Nolan is a good avatar for that. He’s plainly racist against clones, using the term itself with a sneer. More to the point, he clearly views them as chattel. When pressed on his reluctance to work with clone troopers, he gripes about not wanting to employ “used equipment.” One of the thematic throughlines this season is how the powers-that-be within the Empire don’t see the clone troopers as people, just tools to be discarded once they’re no longer useful.

Crosshair clearly dislikes Nolan, and even in his stoicism, seems a bit put out by his brothers being forcibly retired. But he’s a good soldier. He follows orders.

That makes it meaningful when he meets someone who doesn’t. Commander Mayday is a fascinating person, a clone trooper who’s been practically exiled to a remote outpost to protect cargo he’s not even allowed to know about. He’s the poster child for Imperial neglect. He’s an experienced soldier reduced to guard dog duty. All of his men have died, and nobody seems to care. All of his equipment is outdated and not up to the job, but the Empire ignores his requests for replacements. His request for reinforcements was met thirty-six days late. And Lt. Nolan in particular treats him like scum, disdaining the clone for simply existing, demanding a deference he hasn’t earned despite his rank, and ordering him on unreasonable missions.

The dynamic is clear, and interesting. Nolan represents the worst of the Empire: prejudice, cruelty, sneering injustice at every turn. And Mayday represents the tragedy of the clones following the war, someone discarded and treated as disposable, useful only for ferrying along the toys for the next wave of soldiers. This the institution Crosshair is loyal to, the thing he fights for unquestioningly.

Until he spends time with Mayday in a frozen wasteland. Separate and apart from all the stellar thematic and character work going on here, the work of the directors and animators soars in this one. The ice-ridden outpost comes with a real sense of place. You understand the desolation of where Mayday has been stranded all this time, the inherent threat that comes from traversing the freezing temperatures and harsh environment, and the lack of care it evinces to subject anyone to this. The low lights, sparse score, and gray landscape convey in a visceral way how grim the conditions that people like Nolan have uncaringly subjected the clone troopers to are.

The expedition to recover some crates from the local rebels gives Crosshair and Mayday a chance to bond. Crosshair is steady as ever, while Mayday stops just short of being openly insubordinate. Mayday’s sarcasm and cynicism make for a good contrast with Crosshair’s dry wit, and their adventure to retrieve the boxes brings them closer together through the bond that forms from braving adversity together. The mission is a harsh one, full of traps and threats and environmental dangers. It’s one they’re undermanned for too, something Nolan doesn’t care about, but which pushes them to rely on one another even more.

There’s a nice throughline for how they treat one another. Crosshair has internalized Imperial principles, and so decries fallen soldiers as dead weight. And yet, when he inadvertently steps on a pressure mine, Mayday is a bit snarky, but goes to some trouble and risk to defuse it and help save Crosshair’s life (using improvised tools, since the Empire hasn’t given him what he needs, of course). It shows the esprit de corps of the clone troopers, even among those who don’t see eye to eye, with the sort of loyalty the Imperials don't share, the kind of loyalty Crosshair once shared with the rest of Clone Force 99.

And in the end, he returns the favor. There’s some nice setup and payoff as what starts as a low rumble, builds to a large crack, and finally into an avalanche that threatens to bury both of them. Despite Mayday being injured in the mission, and Crosshair being better-positioned to make it himself if he left Mayday behind, Crosshair has internalized Mayday’s perspective. There’s power in his choice to rescue Mayday when he doesn’t have to, to put his own life on the line to save one of his brothers. It’s a sign of his viewpoint starting to change, of his recognition of the need of the clones to look out for one another since their superiors certainly won’t be doing it.

It’s a sharp contrast with Lt. Nolan. When the clones make it back by the skin of their teeth, clearly injured from the attempt, there’s zero concern from their commanding officer. All he does is excoriate them for failing to recover the cargo, armor for the stormtroopers who will replace them, in an ironic twist. And he refuses to call a medic for Mayday, calling it a waste of resources. Mayday and Crosshair will risk their lives for one another. Nolan won’t even offer basic treatment. The disparity in the views on the value of clone life couldn't be more stark, and makes for a thematic throughline that presents the angel and the devil on Crosshair’s shoulders.

Finally, he’s had enough. Even obedient, loyal Crosshair can't stand this. He recognizes the Empire’s misdeeds, if not in their tactics across the galaxy, then certainly in the way they treat him and those he’s fought with. After all they’ve done, all they’ve lost and sacrificed in the name of protecting this institution, they don’t get so much as a thank you, and worse yet, are treated as the expendable afterbirth of the Empire’s emergence.

So he kills the shitheel then and there. It’s a powerful move, one that seals Crosshair’s fate to some degree, but also affirms a change of heart. What do you do when you realize the thing you’ve been loyal to your whole life isn’t worth that loyalty? When it treats you like chewed up gum stuck to the side of a star destroyer’s hull? If you’re a soldier like Crosshair, you fight back. You return the harsh consequences doled out by racist cowards in stuffed uniforms. And maybe, just maybe, you accept that your friends were right all along.

[7.6/10] It’s nice to see the Zillo Beast back! More and more of season 2 feels like a sequel to The Clone Wars (more so than even Rebels did). The exact results of Palpatine’s instructions to have the Zillo Beast cloned were one of the loose ends from the prior series, so it’s nice to see some answers here. The Emperor did, in fact, manage to clone the Beast with the help of Kaminoan technology and other amoral mad scientists. Given the size of the operation and the number of ships, it looks like they succeeded in cloning it more than once, and there’s a secret project to try to use its blaster-resistant skin for armor plating. Very cool to get some payoff to something that started back in 2010.

(As an aside, I could have sworn we’ve seen the Zillo Beast brought back before “Metamorphosis”, but it turns out I was just remembering an episode of Lego Star Wars All Stars! A lot of the non-canon T.V. series are fun, but they can jumble your memory of what happened in the main timeline. The same thing happened when I was sure that Andor and K2-S0 had crossed over into one of the animated shows, and was again, accidentally recalling one of the Lego series.)

This episode had a very Alien vibe, with our heroes trapped in an enclosed space with a lurking monster, with a lot of gradual escalation in tension and a spooky atmosphere. The atmosphere was actually my favorite part of this one. I’d half-guessed it might be the Zillo Beast after a bit, so its appearance wasn’t a big shock. But the director, writer, and composer all do a good job presenting an air of eeriness about the derelict imperial transport where the beast ate everyone. The show captures the horror vibes of the encounter, and follows the JAWS principle of heightening the anticipation, and the terror, by only showing you glimpses of the creature and signs of the damage it can do long before you see the full thing in action.

The ensuing confrontation loses a little steam once the beast breaks out of the ship. Longtime fans have seen the creature rampage on skyscrapers before, and it seems comparatively easy for the Imperials to recapture it this time. (Though maybe the coning process made it mildly more docile? Who knows.) But there’s still plenty of good fireworks in the efforts to escape both the beast’s maw and the Empire attacking.

I’m most intrigued by the developments for the bigger story arcs wending their way through the series. For one thing, it’s nice to see the tension between Cid and the Bad Batch escalate after she didn’t help rescue them. Between that and the warning from the shady racing guy, I’ll bet she comes through in the clutch for the team in a big moment to prove that there’s some loyalty there, but it provides good reason for conflict between Clone Force 99 and their own shady benefactor, so I dig it.

On a broader scale, we get some new wrinkles in the cloning conspiracy and a new antagonist. I’m a fan of Jimmi Simpson, so it’s nice to see him aboard as Dr. Hemlock, the malevolent scientist who seems to be behind the secret cloning projects.. The fact that these projects exist leads to plenty of intriguing questions like what exactly they’re doing beyond the markless Clone Troopers we met in “Clone Conspiracy” and the Zillo beast. (The tall, glowy-helmeted troopers suggest something further.) The desire to hide the cloning project to exert greater control over it is interesting and on brand, and even (sigh) sets up Palpatine trying to clone himself. And the fact that the former Kaminoan Prime Minister tells Dr. Hemlock that the way to get Nala Se to cooperate is by using Omega sets up a future confrontation between the Empire and the Bad Batch, which I appreciate.

All-in-all, this one does a nice job of picking up one of the loose threads from The Clone Wars in a nicely scary sort of way, while also successfully introducing some new characters and machinations that will no doubt be a major part of our protagonists’ future.

[8.0/10] The thrust of “Retrieval” is pretty simple. This is a Star Wars-y spin on an Oliver Twist-type story, with an orphan being mistreated by the greedy leader of what is basically a workhouse. Mokko, the sniveling, Hoggish Greedley-esque head of the mine keeps his child slaves in thrall and in debt to him, and it’s pretty plain how evil he is. I like the story of how Beni thinks this is all there is. Yeah, things aren’t great. But he genuinely believes that Mokko is looking out for him and his cohort. He wants to work within the system, thinks this is the only way, and believes that resources are scarce and his benefactor is doing the best he can.

Then, he meets Omega and realizes it doesn’t have to be this way. He sees how the rest of the Bad Batch trusts her and treats her well in a way that's genuine, rather than transactional. She gives him her rations out of the kidnessness of her heart, rather than only offering food out of an expectation that she’ll get something in return. This is all Beni has known, but through Omega, he sees that there’s another way, a better way, and he doesn’t have to merely survive like this. I find that idea beautiful, even if it’s understandably simplified for an all-ages audience.

It reminds me of my favorite Kingdom Hearts game, 358/2 Days. (I know. I know.) This episode and that game’s story share the same sense of a young man making his way through an abusive system who doesn’t know it’s abusive, only to realize there’s other options when he interacts with outsiders who model genuine care, affection, and connection in a way he didn’t realize was possible, but eventually internalizes.

Apart from the highfalutin character material, there's also some good nuts and bolts Bad Batch action and excitement here. The gang sneaking in through a smoke stack, having to dodge its every-sixty-seconds blast is an exciting setpiece. The crew having to navigate Mokko’s mine, with the grown members of Clone Force 99 repairing their ship, while Omega sneaks around to get the access codes that will allow them to escape the compound’s ray shield makes for a good setup. And the closing stand-off, with Mokko threatening Omega if Hunter and company don’t relent, only for Omega to show the trust in her surrogate father to leap over the edge knowing he’ll swing down to catch her, is as thrilling as it is heartening.

Therein lies some of the show’s thematic material. In the process of garnering the command codes, Omega discovers that Mokko was lying. There’s no shortage of ipsidium. Mokko’s just siphoning off the creme de la creme for himself, leaving those in servitude to him with scraps. It’s the last straw for Benni, provoking the realization that Mokko doesn’t actually care about them, and is, in fact, taking advantage of them.

Let’s be real, this is basically a worker’s revolt. Again, there’s a four-color quality to this, with Mokko as a mustache-twirling villain (with a few shades of Fury Road’s Imortan Joe given the water rationing). But at the end of the day, this Benni, with the help of his compatriots, overthrows Mokko with the mine’s workers resolving to split the profits evenly instead of letting their “leader” skim off the top and hand out the minor remnants as though he’s being generous. Mokko dying because he whiffs too hard on a punch rather than anyone taking actual action is kind of cheap. But again, the ideas and sentiments of the scene work, so it’s easier to give that sort of thing a pass.

All-in-all, I enjoyed this little duology. The first half and the second half are pretty different, but I like the throughline of Omega accepting that change can be okay, and you can find a way through even the most challenging of situations, only to impart that same message, through her words and her example, to someone else who badly need to hear it. The well-staged fireworks don’t hurt either! This has been a great season so far, and I’m excited to see where it goes from here.

(As an aside, this episode felt strangely of a piece with “The Forgotten” from Batman: The Animated Series, right down to unfortunate souls being forced to work in a mine, and Mokko having the same “regal bearing” as Boss Biggis.)

[7.7/10] It didn’t hit me until Bail Organa said, “Follow the money,” that this is The Bad Batch’s riff on All the President's Men. Omega and Senator Chuchi are a little different from Woodward and Bernstein, but the sense of them working contacts and interviewing people and enlisting allies to (nigh-literally) find out where the bodies are buried does feel of a piece with the William Goldman-penned classic in its muckraking spirit.

To that end, I like the structure of this one. In order to make her allegations against Rampart stick, Senator Chuchi wants to secure both someone willing to speak out against him and hard evidence that it was him, not a storm, that destroyed Kamino. Omega and Chuchi go after the former by playing diplomatic back channels, and the rest of the Bad Batch + Rex go after the latter, making for a nice divide in the narrative.

Granted, some of this seems foolish. The script puts a fig leaf on how dangerous it is for the Bad Batch to even be in Coruscant, as Rex explains the stakes for all clones that make the risk worth it. But it’s weird to put Omega so close to people like Rampart, let alone the Kaminoan senator from The Clone Wars, who presumably might have something to say about this unique member of the clones.

Still, the political work they do is interesting, and watching Omega learn about the scope of the Senate, the lack of clone representation, and the thorny realm of politics is worth the conceit in my book. I particularly like how following the money leads her to the former Kaminoan senator, who confirms that Rampart’s been diverting funds unlawfully, but requires an earnest and angry plea from Omega about the needs of the clones to be convinced to speak out.

Once again, that's my favorite part of this. It’s shocking to Omega, as it should be, that the clones aren’t represented in the senate, and that some citizens consider them military hardware rather than people. The fight to treat them as human beings worthy of the same rights as anyone is a noble one, and amid all the political theater and backstabbing, I like that there’s a moral cause at the center of this one.

The Bad Batch mission is less heady, but still cool. It’s more a throwback to classic adventures, which I can appreciate as well. The mission to infiltrate Rampart’s venator while it’s being refitted in the Imperial shipyards is a unique setup. Adding in Rex is always welcome. And there’s nice touches here, from Wrecker still having some fear of heights, to the team sneaking aboard by rewiring a droid transport, to Tech launching them out of danger using an escape pod. There’s not nearly as much depth to the “retrieve Clone Trooper Slip’s backup data” mission as to the rest of the episode, but it’s well-done action and excitement, which is worth something too.

The subversion it leads to is great though. Our heroes have won! Halle Burtoni speaks out to the legislative body! They get the backup data to the floor of the senate just in time for Senator Chuchi to reveal footage of Rampart’s ship destroying Kamino and creating quite a stir. Rampart himself gets arrested. The good guys succeed! The day is won!

Only, here comes Palpatine. I gotta admit, it’s a thrill every time Ian McDiarmid shows back up to play the Emperor again. But more than anything, I like how his arrival pulls the rug out from under our heroes. He throws Rampart under the bus. But he also points to the tragedy on Kamino as a sign that the clone troopers are flawed, for their willingness to execute such terrible orders unquestioningly, paving the way for him to pass the stormtrooper bill he’s been masterminding behind the scenes anyway. Yet again, as Rex puts it, he’s several steps ahead of everyone else.

There’s power in that idea, that telling the truth, doing the right thing, doesn’t always work out just because. Bad actors still bend the system and the facts to their own ends. Ironically, there’s the ring of truth to the observation, something that gives our heroes’ actions meaning, even if it doesn’t lead to the outcome they want. (And my new theory is that the endgame for Omega is to make her a Senator and activist who fights for clone rights having learned these lessons throughout the galaxy.)

The only thing left is Echo choosing to go with Rex and help in his efforts to extricate rogue clones from harm’s way. It makes sense from a narrative perspective, since he and Tech occupy similar spaces and it felt like he got the short shrift last season for that reason. More to the point, it explains why he received some long-awaited character development this season, being a bigger part of the action tan he was previously so as to get the juice out of the character before he left. I’m curious about where the ensemble goes from here, and as an exit, Echo choosing to go with Rex to help fight the good fight is well set up based on what we’ve heard and seen from him this year.

All-in-all, another winner of an episode with some big deal moves and surprising developments.

[8.2/10] Politics and intrigue -- what more can you ask for?

It’s funny liking Prequel era politics. When The Phantom Menace came out, most fans dozed our way through the Senate scenes. But the member of the Galactic Senate debating the fate of the clones seems more personal and real. We know how this turns out, of course. We know that Clone Troopers are (seemingly) not in use by the Empire around the time of the Original Trilogy, with strong indications there’s a conscript army instead. So we know Vice Admiral Rampart’s bill goes through at some point.

Still, the debate here comes with a certain charge given the subject matter. And the fact that, as one of the clones proclaims, they just want to keep fighting rather than be rendered obsolete, makes the tragedy of that fate all the more potent.

I’ll confess, I don’t necessarily understand why a conscript army is better for the Emperor than a clone army. Maybe the idea is that too many clones have been going AWOL or questioning orders, to where Palpatine and Vader are worried about unleashing wave after wave of highly trained soldiers who might choose to turn against them and join that rash of insurgencies. The pretextual arguments made on the floor of the Senate have the patina of plausibility and respectability. Either way, though, the bad guys pushing through the bill in the Senate, while saying all the right things but stalling on actually taking care of the clones after the end of their service is downright despicable.

I think that's the thing I appreciate most about “Clone Conspiracy”. The political angles here are interesting, and the intrigue of hidden assassins and none other than Captain Rex rescuing rogue clones is very cool. But I’m most compelled by the idea of how the Empire treats the clone troopers now that they ‘ve served their purpose.

On an in-universe level, it pays off the many times in The Clone Wars various clone troopers wondered what they would do after the war. The question of what rapidly-aging men bred for battle will do with themselves when the conflict ends in an undeniably fascinating and pathos-ridden one. Seeing the animated corner of Star Wars confront the question head on, with clones wanting to keep fulfilling their purpose, or struggling to imagine a life with a pension and the freedom to do whatever they want, feels like a moving continuation of themes the franchise has been batting around for a while now.

Out-of-universe though, it reflects how we treat veterans in the real world, with genuine, even more potent questions of how we put fellow human beings through war zones and then expect them to come home and go back to normal life. Debates over funding, questions of who represents the troopers, the political cudgel the issue becomes all have resonance for real life issues.

“Clone Conspiracy” is smart to focus its story on one clone, named Slip, as our perspective character. He represents someone willing to just go along with the way of things, until his pal is killed for threatening to speak out. His desire to get out, willingness to challenge the status quo and the treatment of his brothers, and inevitable but tragic death, make him a good fulcrum for the tale (no pun intended).

This is also a good time to bring back Senator Chuchi. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see Bail Organa, and even Senator Pamlo again. But returning more political allies who have roots in the series’ predecessor, fighting for the rights of the clones within the system, starting to realize the rot that's set in within the political apparatus, and suddenly discovering the web of murder and malfeasance afoot builds on what we know about her and resets it for the Imperial era. She’s a little naive, but noble and brave, which are good character traits for someone in her role in the story.

The mysteries and reveals “Clone Conspiracy” has to offer are tops as well. I appreciate seeing Rex again, and the turn that he’s helping rogue clones escape unscathed, which is on brand. (And him presumably hanging at the Martez sisters’ garage is a nice touch.) The mystery of the sniper taking out clone agitators is a good one. For the record, my money was on Fennec Shand, but I like the idea that Rampart is employing a new line of off-the-books clones to do his dirty work, which opens up more mysteries to come. The cloak and dagger elements of this one are just as good.

Overall, this is The Bad Batch at its narrative peak, weaving together the personal, the political, and the paranoid thriller elements into one thematically potent and narratively exciting installment. I enjoy the episodic adventures of the series, and the parts that center squarely on the titular crew of unique clone troopers. But it’s also nice when the show gets broader in scope, touching on the highest of political rungs, the first wisps of the rebellion, the backroom misdealings and terrible murders that fuel the Empire, and at the center of all of it, the living souls, treated as obsolete technology, who suffer the most after giving so much.

[7.7/10] A big part of Star Wars is, as the kids say, “the vibes.” As shows like Robot Chicken and even The Yoda Chronicles have pointed out in comic fashion, if you really stop and examine the plotting and world-building of the Galaxy Far Far Away, there’s a lot that doesn’t quite add up. But so much of what makes the franchise successful is the feeling of all this, the sense of a battle between good and evil, of brave people working through thrilling adventures and finding themselves, and a sense of belonging, in the process. The particulars don’t have to make complete sense because the sense of the thing rings true. It’s the magic of storytelling and cinema at play.

And I have to say, I really enjoy the vibes of “Tribe” here. Something about the visit to a Wookiee village on Kashyyyk is just so cool, but also so meaningful. Part of that is a return appearance from Gungi, one of the Padawans who participated in the gathering ritual in an episode of The Clone Wars. In truth, his survival is a bit of a cheat, but as with players like Maul, the cheat is worth it for what they do with him.

“Tribe” earns his appearance a bit by showing what a rough time he’s had. He seems pretty desperate when The Bad Batch frees him from the Vanguard Axis, a scary, all-droid crime syndicate that's willing to smuggle Wookiees and/or force-sensitive beings. He is understandably resistant to help from anyone who looks like a Clone Trooper, not trusting the people who turned on him and his fellow Jedi. And most notably, as a Padawan, he left Kashyyyk as a very young child, so doesn’t know where his village of origin is, doesn’t know who his people are, doesn’t know where his home is. The sense of this lost child, wayward and angry after having been through so much is undeniably compelling.

So too is what he and The Bad Batch find when they make it to the Wookiee home planet. In truth, I’m not sure how this squares with the version of the planet we see in Jedi: Fallen Order, set not much further in the timeline, but it’s startling to see Trandoshans allying with Imperial troops to raze the forests that Yanna’s tribe calls home. You get the sense that it affects Gungi, to see something so sacred brutalized like that.

And yet, the sacredness with which the Wookiees treat their surroundings is part of the appeal here. It’s a cliche, but the Wookiees of Yanna’s tribe have a respect for nature. They are of the land, and believe that it’s the trees’ planet, not theirs. So when a mechanized force rolls into town, harming the flora and living in discord, rather than harmony with the land, it seems out of step and viscerally wrong, to the characters and to the audience.

This is the point where I should probably acknowledge that “Tribe” is a reconfigured version of one of the “lost” story arcs intended for season 7 of The Clone Wars when it was still in production. Descriptions of that arc, and even clips of animatics and rough animation fans have seen align closely with what we see here, from Wookie riding big cat monkeys, to the insect-like critters roaming around the countryside, to a spiritual devotion to the trees, to the Trandoshan villain who earns Gungi’s ire. I’m pretty sure the writer is the same. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with repurposing ideas that didn’t see life in one avenue and giving them new life in another. (And The Bad Batch were, appropriately enough, involved in the story as it was originally conceived.) But it’s funny seeing something familiar to die-hard fans remade and revivified in this new setting.

I like that spiritualness. Granted, “Tribe” veers a little too much into cheesy James Cameron Avatar territory with nature itself defeating the bad guys rather than the young Jedi hero having to make the choice whether to kill someone who’s taken so much from his people. But the sense of the Wookiees defending their homeland from these interlopers with no respect for their ways, The Bad Batch deciding to join the fight because the Wookiees were their allies in the war and they recognize an injustice in the making when they see it, the sense of asking the trees and the planet to help them in the battle all give this a balance of the tragic and the heartening.

The Wookiees are struggling. They’ve been exiled from their homes and forced to take refuge in the forest. But the forest is a refuge, one where they have their bond with the flora and fauna around them to help keep them safe from the Empire and the Trandoshans who’ve hunted them for sport since the time of The Clone Wars. Even as the proceedings are too dark to really make things out in places, the aesthetic of their lush forest mixed with the flames and gunmetal of their attackers, the anger and triumph of a beleaguered Jedi-in-training finding loss and hope, and the sense of a people who are hurting but still fighting, gives this one the kind of vibe that sticks with you. I can see why Matt Michnovetz decided to bring this story back, realized in its full glory, and all the atmosphere and sentiment that comes with it.