Millz

This is a wild ride. It surprised me on my first watch years ago. It's on Showtime and I was very eager to revisit. It's ridiculous and dumb in an endearing way. Despite having elements that I've seen million times before, it somehow feels fresh and I like how it goes from horror mystery to violent action thriller to outright silly slasher. There are more than a few scenes that utilize neon lighting and synth music to create an interesting style. I really like how the lead character is so mild-mannered, making his violent outbursts more intimidating. Great stuff.

9/10. Anytime you can get Liam Neeson back it's a treat, and this is another great example from this season of Clone Wars using its ability to fill in the gaps from the prequels. I really liked the fact that not only do we get to see Qui Gon contacting Yoda, something Revenge of the Sith only mentions in a single line, but that it's treated kind of seriously and suspiciously. Yoda initially thinks he may just be going mad. The other masters on the Jedi Council worry that he may have been compromised in some way by the Sith. Yoda himself seeks out help and confirmation from his compatriots as to whether there's something real there or if he's just losing it. The caution, and the not-at-all taken for granted way in which the show address even a Jedi Master hearing voices is admirable.

It's also nice to see Yoda be a little mischievous once more. The Yoda of the original films could certainly be serious, but he also had an impish quality that made him kind of fun and distinctive. The Yoda of the prequels, beyond basically one scene in Episode II, is much more stoic and even stern throughout. But here, even as he's concerned, there's a spritely wisdom to him that feels of a piece with the character we met in The Empire Strikes Back. I especially liked his scene with Anakin, where Yoda asks him for help, noting that he has a "talent" for disobeying the council and a knack for spontaneity, which both show Yoda's more playful side and also demonstrate how he gets Anakin.

We also delve heavily into the mythos here. Learning that there's a distinction between the "living force" and the "cosmic force" was kind of cool, if a bit over-explainly (and I'm not sure I ever needed to hear about midichlorians again). It's vague enough to help explain how there could be force ghosts but no one knew about them until now. I also liked that Yoda had to go into (presumably) the same cave Luke went into on Dagobah, and saw visions of the future, including Sidious slicing and dicing the place. It's an interesting point that until now, the Jedi thought Dooku was the master, not the apprentice, and had no real knowledge of Sidious.

The episode isn't perfect -- Yoda being in a little wetsuit was visually a bit odd, and him following tinkerbell around Dagobah was a bit of a strange choice -- but overall there was a great deal to like about this one. Neeson was great; the way Yoda and the Council explored the legitimate implications of a voice from the beyond vs. a Sith trick was superb; and the fact that we got a bit of the old Yoda and some big mythos development at the same time makes this episode a keeper.

The Star Wars Prequels had a problem, a problem that would have made George Lucas's job difficult even if he hadn't botched things like character-building and dialogue and overreliance on CGI-spectacle -- we already know how this story ends. The problem with any prequel is that it can be difficult to create stakes because you know certain people have to survive, many characters have to be in position for when you catch up to the familiar narrative, and as a result, any attempts at big twists can either feel like cheap retcons or unsatisfying foregone conclusions.

Staying within the Disney family, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. has a problem too, a problem that also makes it difficult for the show to feel real and important within its interconnected universe -- its characters and plot won't, and arguably can't, be acknowledged by the series of films that spawned it. That means AoS always seems like it's sitting at the kids table, where at best, it feels like it's playing in its own disconnected corner of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and at worst, it feels like nothing on the show really matters.

On paper, Star Wars: The Clone Wars should have these same problems. We know where Anakin and Obi Wan's stories will lead us. We know that however affected and connected the two of them are with Ahsoka, she's not only not around by the time Revenge of the SIth happens, but she isn't even mentioned. In the abstract, it seems like Clone Wars ought to suffer just as much at creating stakes for its characters and making it feels like the events of the show matter within the wider Star Wars Universe.

And yet, in an episode like "The Wrong Jedi," a semi-series finale for the show, the creators of Clone Wars find a way not only create a satisfying and heartbreaking end to Ahsoka's arc over the course of the series, but manage to tie it into the larger conflicts between the Jedi and the Republic, and between Anakin and the Council, which come to a head in Episode III, and throw in some interesting thematic exploration as well. While the Darth Maul arc that finished in Lawless felt like the culmination of the various new characters and settings that Clone Wars has introduced over the prior five seasons, The Wrong Jedi is the culmination of the show's larger project, to create meaningful stories and character journeys that stand on their own but which also feed into and expand the world George Lucas created.

The plot of the episode is fairly straightforward, but effective. With Ahsoka having been captured, the Republic (represented here by Admiral "Don't Call Me a Grand Moff Yet" Tarkin) requests that the Jedi expel Ahsoka from the order and turn her over for a civilian, republic trial for sedition. After deliberation and objection, the Council agrees, and Ahsoka is prosecuted by Tarkin, defended by Padme, in proceedings presided over by Chancellor Palpatine, where she pleads her innocence and tries to explain that she was framed for the bombing of the Jedi Temple. In the mean time, Anakin plays detective, hunting down Ventress and gathering enough clues to figure out that it was another padewan, Barriss who orchestrated the attack on the temple and attempted to frame Ahsoka. After a thrilling ligthsaber battle, Anakin prevails and brings Barriss to the Senate to confess her crimes, and Ahsoka is acquitted.

But despite the well structured and well-executed nature of that story, it's what happens next that really sets this episode apart. The Council summons Ahsoka and apologizes, telling her that they were wrong, and implicitly offering to make her a Jedi Knight by saying that these were her Jedi trials and she has passed them. They want to welcome her back into the fold, and she seems inclined to accept, but instead chooses not to return.

It's a heartbreaking moment, because Ahsoka has been betrayed and we feel her disappointment. She has given her whole life to the order, been a good soldier and as the show has depicted for five years, followed orders, grown and matured, and become an incredibly faithful, talented, and devoted Jedi who represents the best that this collective has to offer to the world. And yet in her hour of need, the Council turned its back on her and turned her over to a tribunal where she faced death for a crime she didn't commit. Granted, the show does a good job of depicting the Council as conflicted in how they feel about Ahsoka but pulled by the admittedly convincing evidence against her and the larger political forces at play. But still, Ahsoka believed in this institution with her heart and soul, and it didn't believe in her. That fundamentally changes how she sees the Jedi Order, and however much she's become a better person because of it, changes whether she wants to be a part of an organization that would do such a thing to one of its own.

It solves an important problem for the show. For every Jedi we see short of Anakin, Obi Wan, and Yoda, there's the terrible knowledge that by Episode III, they all end up dead. So the seemingly implicit limitation of a character like Ahsoka is that either she dies off screen in ignominious fashion, or she miraculously survives Order 66 in a way that feels like a cheat. "The Wrong Jedi" manages to sidestep this problem in a way that is not only narratively satisfying, but which grounds the event in pathos and character. Ahsoka may avoid Order 66 because she's no longer a Jedi, and yet this isn't some plot convenience or quickly slapped-together escape hatch; it's a meaningful event in her life, that fits with the difficulties she's faced over the course of the show and makes this something painful and real, that would matter to her journey regardless of how it fits into the larger world of the franchise.

At the same time, the episode makes this a meaningful event for Anakin too. The Anakin Skywalker we meet in Revenge of the Sith is more capable, self-assured, and accomplished than the one we meet in Attack of the Clones, something bolstered by his trials and tribulations we've witnessed between Episodes II and III. But he is also increasingly mistrustful of the Council. The events here, though never spoken of, create a subtext to that mistrust. Anakin has a fraternal, maybe even parental love for Ahsoka. He has, in many ways, raised her over the course of the show. He stood by her and believed her and worked to prove her innocence even when all the world thought she was guilty. And yet because of the Council's decision, one that clearly frustrated Anakin even before its damage could not be undone, someone he loves feels rightfully betrayed, and is leaving. How could he not begin to doubt the Council's wisdom when they effectively turn away one of the few people in the galaxy Anakin truly cares for?

That subtext extends to the episode's villain as well. Too often in Star Wars, in both its cinematic and T.V.-centered outings, the bad guys align with the Dark Side due to a simple, frequently boring lust for power. (General Krell is the perfect example, a Jedi who basically became evil for evil's sake.) But Barriss is not simply a power hungry force-wielder, she is both an extremist and an idealist. She stands on the Senate floor and rails against the Jedi Order, not because they're weak when the Sith are strong, but because she feels that the Order has abandoned its principles, that they have become instruments of violence and war, that this once great calling has been corrupted by violence and darkness. It's a shocking rebuke, and one that offers a surprising deconstruction of the military adventures of these so-called peacekeepers that we've witnessed in Clone Wars up to this point. Barriss raises the idea that the Jedi have strayed from their guiding ideals, and that her bombing was not an attack on the Jedi, but an attack on what the Jedi have come.

Anakin is standing there when Barriss explains herself in these terms. Though he has been shown, in conversations with Tarkin no less, to understand that war may require more and different things from the Jedi than is typical, it's another seed that's planted, another event that shapes his view of the Council and the Jedi, as maybe not so monolithicly good. He too, has another reason to doubt.

Those recriminations by Barriss feed into another of the themes flitting around in the background of "The Wrong Jedi" -- a growing schism between the Jedi and the Republic government. We see people protesting in the streets. We see Tarkin putting forward the idea that the Jedi have become too insular. We see Palpatine floating the notion that the Separtists have infiltrated and betrayed the Jedi before. The story arc, and this episode in particular, helps lay the groundwork for why the government as a whole, not to mention the people, might begin to look suspiciously as these galactic guardians. Beyond Palpatine's machination, there's reason for Senators and commoners alike to doubt the Jedi. The Council, in turn, has reason to be suspicious of a government body that persuaded it to turn over, and very nearly railroaded, an innocent padewan. This too, helps to set the stage for the division and mutual mistrust on display in Revenge of the Sith.

It's an amazing feat, and it all helps to elevate Clone Wars into being more than a series of amusing series of side-adventures between the major fireworks of the films. "The Wrong Jedi" doesn't just tell a neat little standalone story. It rounds off Ahsoka's arc over the course of the series in devastating fashion. It gives a plausible, satisfying rationale for her absence from Episode III. It gives us deeper insight into Anakin and helps motivate his turn to the dark side. Unable to change the text of Revenge of the Sith, it adds meaningful, maybe even vital subtext to Anakin's mistrust of the Council, the divide between the Republic Government and the Jedi. It helps explain why the Senate writ large and the people would accept Palpatine's assertion that the Jedi had turned on him and were no longer trustworthy. It helps expand and deepen the world that so many people found so inviting and immersive when A New Hope burst onto the seen.

In short, Clone Wars in general, and "The Wrong Jedi* in particular, does the impossible. It finds a way to make the stories told meaningful within the limits of how the audience knows they have to end. It cannot affect the plot of the Star Wars films as constituted, so it adds illuminating subtext to the choices the characters make in those films and deepens our understanding of them. It centers its narrative on a new character who is close enough to the events of the films that her absence is conspicuous, but makes her journey worthwhile and her distance understandable. And, god help me, it even makes the Prequels, Revenge of the Sith especially, a little more comprehensible, a little more logically consistent, and a little more worthwhile. That alone is a miracle, and a testament to the greatness that Star Wars: Clone Wars managed to achieve by filling in the gaps of the Star Wars Universe, and creating its own, indelible characters and stories in the process.

I hadn't watched this in years and, to be honest, I was somewhat trepidatious about how it would hold up. As it turns out I should have known better; it's every bit the smart, emotive powerhouse I remembered, and miles better than most modern efforts in the same niche.

One of the things I find most impressive about it is the respect it maintains for the original, where most sequels of this type (including T3 and Terminator Salvation) can't wait to distance and differentiate themselves from their lineage. Even though the first Terminator had aged quite a bit in the seven years between films, T2's sharp, daring script constantly cites events, characters and situations from its timeline like a religious zealot thumping the bible. It also builds directly upon the dark, challenging themes and premonitions of its predecessor, resulting in a towering, substantial world that seems so real I could almost touch it.

Of course, I'd be silly not to mention the still-spectacular action scenes, which flawlessly build in size and scale until they reach a timely crescendo at the end of the third act. CGI was still in its infancy in the early '90s, but James Cameron's knack for its timely, appropriate application is already at veteran levels in T2. As a direct result, those infamous scenes with a transmorphing T-1000 remain striking and impressive, where other effects of the period now seem clunky and unrealistic. Not only is it one of the best sequels ever, it's among the very best of the batch in multiple genres, and Arnold has never been more at-home in a character. This is an old ride that's aged like wine.