The Mandalorian adds to Star Wars universe
TV show strikes the right balance between originality and fan service
Now that The Mandalorian Season 2 has wrapped up, the pressing question on everyone's mind can finally be explored: was Bib Fortuna still on Jabba the Hutt's sail barge when Luke Skywalker and friends blew it up over the Sarlacc pit and, if not, did Watto the junkyard monster have anything to do with his suddenly-revealed survival?
Ok, that's not really a thing at all, but if you haven't already turned the page, chances are you're into and have been watching the biggest show on TV for the past eight weeks, which just came to its bittersweet conclusion Friday on Disney+, as Luke Skywalker appeared, five or six years after his sister choked Jabba the Hutt to death and his father threw the Emperor down a shaft, er, um, killing him forever.
It is worth noting that having now added roughly 10 hours of extremely canon storyline to the Star Wars saga, Jon Favreau's The Mandalorian now occupies as much space as a traditional cinematic trilogy. And let's recall how we used to wait six years to see those things wrapped up, a new one every three years in the spring for two trilogies, then one every two years after George Lucas sold his franchise to Disney. I'll let you decide whether you think that extra year of consideration made for better films these days or not.
We are, of course, currently trapped in our homes in the midst of the worst global health disaster in our lifetimes, and normally around this time of year we'd be getting another big-screen Saga episode, or in the case of Rogue One in 2016, one of those fairly flawless A Star Wars Story films — the same think tank from which The Mandalorian basically got its start, conceptually, with rumours of a Boba Fett movie, along with one about Obi-wan, and maybe even a film about Yoda's younger years, of which there were some 900 to play with.
Instead, though, TV turned out to be a rather great choice in this era of, at best, curbside pickup reality, and as much as I missed seeing the latest Star Wars film for the “first time” with my friends, having snuck watching the midnight screening the night before with my family, the isolated convenience of being able to just stream the thing and watch it in my sweat pants and headphones at sometimes 3 a.m. if my stupid cat woke me up early, then rewatch it again once my wife woke up, then rewatch it again the night before the next episode came out, also made me quite appreciate how OK it's been to not have to worry about the idiot beside me literally looking at Instagram, as happens with terrible frequency these days. Or, well, did at least. Not to diss humanity too much, but I kind of don't miss you much in this particular circumstance, let the feeling be mutual in all fairness.
Still, when Disney announced there are — seriously — nine new Star Wars TV shows on their way — then added The Book of Boba Fett to the pile in December 2021 — I have to admit feeling just slightly more dread than excitement, and questioned where that “we're taking a bit of a break so people don't get Star Wars burnout” philosophy had skittered off to.
Don't get me wrong, a great story is a great story, and I pushed through several years of the animated series Rebels hoping it would get better than it did, as much as I liked that little jerk, Chopper. But it's always a bummer when a franchise makes you sing Radiohead out loud, “What the hell am I doing here?” which Star Wars has been as guilty of as Doctor Who before it, and Star Trek seems to be going for the lifetime achievement of ticking off its loyal fans. And yet still we watch, because we care and because these are the voyages and strange new worlds we like to turn to when our own reality gets so overwhelming.
And so, turning the mood corner, wasn't it just amazing how consistently thrilling and beautiful The Mandalorian got this year, even if almost every episode's “hopeless situation” was solved at the last
minute by one deus ex machina or extra Bantha loaded with explosives or another?
The characters and clever thinking we enjoyed this year — think of that frog lady using the robot Zero's translator; that Imperial commander's electric suicide pill; or even the fact we learned Din Djarin
is actually a religious zealot in the eyes of your above-average Mandalorian like Bo-katan Kryze and Koska Reeves — are half the enviable allure of this show: its parade of new ideas. On the other hand, the gigantic fan service — including in the prequel and the sequel films — has never, ever been done
better. Just a couple of examples: the Yojimbo Ashoka episode and, well, every time Boba Fett opened his mouth, who's best line, if you know the history, was, “Let's just say they might recognize my face.”
This was in that amazing episode that was brave enough to be all about Mayfeld instead of the more obvious action figures, the most solid act of world-building in the entire series outside the prison ship that showed, yes indeed, the New Republic openly endorses battle droids, just like the hated Separatists did, to the extent that robots are not welcome in bars.
Ah, but instead of writing an entire book about The Mandalorian here, let's just sign and send the love letter with this: I am stunned how good this show is, how it consistently makes Return of the Jedi and the prequels and even the cartoons better, and how every time there's a new idea, it feels like it always belonged there.
Favreau, you filled our emotional
The characters and clever thinking we enjoyed this year ... are half the enviable allure of this show: its parade of new ideas.
tanks at a time when so many of us are feeling so otherwise harsh inside. And the bittersweet ending, splitting up Din Djarin and his son Grogu, well, I think it's obvious how that might resonate extra in the midst of all this necessary isolation, where hugging your mom or best friend has become potentially dangerous.
It's hard to know where you might go in Season 3, and doesn't that just bring back all the fun of waiting for a new Star Wars movie back in the day again? And how inspiringly clever you are, sir, to embed how we all feel about your team efforts so far, within the show's four word mantra.
Out loud, and together: “This is …”