The new series focuses more on the messy interactions between good and evil and less on lightsaber battles.
According to George Lucas admission to The Atlantic in 1979, when he initially began imagining the Star Wars tale, he studied children’s movies to learn “how myths work.” He appeared to want to create a sci-fi fairy tale with simple dichotomies for kids to understand, such as good vs evil, justice versus wrong, and light versus dark. The heroes would undoubtedly be kind, selfless, and resourceful, while the villains would be cruel, cunning, and destructive. The ensuing blockbusters depicting the epic struggle between the honorable Jedi and the repulsive Sith provided family-friendly entertainment. The concept to create “a real gee-whiz movie,” as Lucas described it, was where it all started.
The three-episode Disney+ prequel series Andor, which premieres on Wednesday, is clearly set in the Star Wars world, but it’s not at all “gee-whiz.” Even though the plot travels across some of the same faraway planets and star systems as the movies, much of the scenes are set inside of people’s homes or in filthy hideouts, rusting warehouses, or other places where they are trying to avoid being persecuted by the military Empire.
The initial set of episodes viewed for review feature plenty of droids and exotic races, but no Jedi or Sith Lords (or merchandising-friendly Baby Yoda types). The show views a well-known environment from a foreign vantage point; the majority of individuals are focused on saving their own skin, not the galaxy as a whole.
Andor is an unusually mature chapter in the Star Wars franchise, one that is more interested in depicting life under a repressive government than in awe-inspiring the audience. It’s a self-assured, intelligent drama that necessitates—and rewards—a mature level of patience.
This ethos is apparent right away. The main character isn’t on a normal hero’s journey; rather, he hasn’t yet established his moral code, which can take far longer than, example, making the Kessel Run in the Millennium Falcon. In the prequel, Diego Luna’s character Cassian Andor (who audiences first encountered in the 2016 film Rogue One) is transformed from an unmoored cynic to the rebel captain. However, the genesis narrative is more than just simple fan service. Cassian is not a stoic loner or an ambitious leader, in contrast to the major characters of Disney+’s previous Star Wars programmes. Because the Empire destroyed his home planet, he was forced to flee the galaxy and rely on a group of friends who were also disenfranchised to survive.
His tragic but typical circumstances render him ordinary and, as one character puts it, “disposable.” Although Cassian is upset with the Empire, he has long since come to terms with the fact that he can do little to reverse his situation. Instead, Cassian’s main concern is staying alive, even if that means resorting to violence or crime in order to get by. This Star Wars study investigates how an individual’s needs, fears, and desires might be shaped into a preference for revolution—or submission—depending on the (lowercase-f) forces at work.
Cassian’s days are numbered, as those who have watched Rogue One are aware. Because of this, Andor illustrates how a common, disillusioned individual might experience a political awakening in just a few short years. It examines how we form our sense of right and wrong and where the boundary Lucas drew between good and evil actually lies.
The creator and showrunner of the series, Tony Gilroy, excels at these kinds of psychological conundrums. Gilroy co-wrote Rogue One and is said to have helped with the film’s horrific conclusion, which saw the deaths of all the main characters. But the parts of Andor’s resume that stand out the most are the ones that have nothing to do with Star Wars, like as the Bourne movies and his Oscar-nominated Michael Clayton script. The characters in the show communicate in code and conceal their identities as they try to figure out who they can trust, much as in an espionage thriller. A character dies accidentally in the first ten minutes of the pilot, and another is brutally murdered at gunpoint. The violence is gritty and less lightsaber-reliant.
The first three episodes have the feel of one continuous film, but not in the bloated way that has bothered critics and the showrunners, but rather in a way that makes use of the format of the medium to heighten the tension. The language that probes moral conundrums the most had me reeling during a scene where a character vocally dissects Cassian’s life philosophy. The antagonists also have a realistic feel to them; rather than being motivated by a ludicrous desire for evil, they are more motivated by ego, office politics, and a misguided sense of duty.
Even so, Andor doesn’t diverge from the rest of the series to the point where it would turn off devoted viewers. The third episode has a sequence that is as riveting as any X-wing dogfight or Sarlacc encounter, and imaginative set pieces that give the show a lived-in atmosphere continue to deliver the characteristic Star Wars thrills. As Cassian, Luna maintains her commanding presence on screen, giving him a youthful innocence that, by the time Rogue One begins, has been lost.
Even though Andor takes place years before the Rebel Alliance is completely founded, the series relishes defying the laws, much like the group Cassian eventually joins. It doesn’t care about adhering to the established tone of the blockbuster movies. It might move slowly and with a dejected attitude. War only appears in the far horizon in the four episodes I’ve watched. The anxiety in the show, though, seems to be for Cassian’s gradual development into the threat the Empire imagined someone like him would become—not for the conflicts that will erupt or the blood that will be spilt. Andor is aware that Cassian’s narrative is uneven and has been distorted by individuals with more authority than him; it is not a straightforward march to martyrdom.
He is involved in a violent circle that only produces more violence. Maybe this story doesn’t really fall into Lucas’ “gee-whiz” template. But after so many movies and TV episodes were based in the same galaxy, Andor finds a fresh method to comprehend the moral dilemmas that exist there.
