Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu
Director: Jon Favreau
Writers: Jon Favreau, Dave Filoni, Noah Kloor
Cast: Pedro Pascal, Jeremy Allen White, Brendan Wayne, Lateef Crowder, Sigourney Weaver, Steve Blum, Jonny Coyne, Matthew Willig
As a flagship streaming series, The Mandalorian (and to an even greater degree its spinoff, The Book of Boba Fett) became a junk drawer catch-all for the New Republic era, the period between the original and sequel trilogies. Lost was the simplicity of that early Lone Wolf and Cub concept in favor of world-building in service of the grander galactic picture. Did y’all know the New Republic is pretty broken and guilty of some of the same sins as the High and Old Republics, maybe even the Empire? Not that that’s uninteresting. But by the show’s third season, Din Djarin had become a supporting player in his own story.
The Mandalorian and Grogu offers a back-to-basics adventure re-centering Clan Mudhorn. While it recaptures the magic of their early exploits, it’s inconsequential by design. Don’t expect much in terms of character development or advancement for the world. One set piece renders the animated brawlers from Chewbacca’s dejarik board in full-size gladiatorial glory, but the story itself doesn’t move the figurative chess pieces. For many, that lack of forward progression (both in plot and cinematic artistry) no doubt feels like yet another blow to the operatic legacy of Star Wars. Me? I agree that they played it much too safe with this one, but I don’t want to throw out the baby with the Bacta. The nuance and maturity of Andor set a new bar for what Star Wars can be, but there’s still a charm to revisiting the matinee serial roots that inspired Lucas in the first place.
The opening mission sees Mando, Grogu, and their new wheel man Zeb (first introduced in Filoni’s Rebels animated series) bust the snowy garrison of an Imperial remnant warlord. It evokes the nazi-hunting thrills of the pulps. Ultimately, our chaotic neutral bounty hunters are enmeshed in the New Republic’s inexpert attempts to outsmart the Hutts. For their part, Jabba’s surviving kin, the Twins, want to eliminate his son, Rotta (White). Last seen as a grub in the Clone Wars era, Rotta now labors as a pit fighter in the underworld. I love that, despite substantial upper body gains, his signature move is simply crushing his opponents under his own weight. This chapter borrows as much from sword and sandal fantasy as it does cyberpunk and boxing capers, the kind of campy cocktail that makes Star Wars so rich and varied. When Mando ends up sympathizing with the prizefighter, who wants nothing to do with his old man’s wicked syndicate and quickly endears himself to Grogu, things play out with even more genre mashing, taking us all the way to the swampy Nal Hutta homeworld for the first time in live action.
It’s fun, it’s frivolous, it’s probably what the series ought to have been after season one. As a theatrical release it’s perhaps the right answer to the wrong problem. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a romp. Especially for us freaks pawing at the window at the slightest glimpse of stop-motion.
Favreau and his team overturn the franchise toy chest, making great use of the wider Star Wars bestiary in an adventure that goes long stretches with nary a human face on display. The outing is awash in puppets, with alien creatures rivaling droids in variety, if not number. You needn’t remember the gangly Amani species from its spear carrier role in Return of the Jedi to appreciate its threat here, but it’s the good kind of Easter egg. The story moves at enough of a clip that none of these critters overstay their welcome. We all have our limits. I personally can’t get enough Ewoks, but I went in concerned the gear-head Anzellans—frizzy little Minion stand-ins to be sure—would stink up the place with their mumblecore shenanigans, but they actually won me over. Tastefully done. I think Marrok the anooba would agree.
It’s all set to a fun and eclectic score from Ludwig Göransson that does so much to color the swamps and back alleys of this globes-trotting journey. Din’s theme music has joined a storied catalog, and it’s thrilling to hear those signature trills and the twang of the guitar in a theatrical setting. The gunslinger has arrived.
The film does falter in the human element, Pascal and White never sounding terribly engaged in their vocal performances, lost under helmets, the tedium of ADR sessions, and…layers of Hutt blubber I guess? Weaver lends a grace and stature to the New Republic Colonel Ward, but it’s not an especially meaty role. I will add that she’s also a pilot, but now I’ve said everything of note about this character and how she presents herself. That’s a downer. Fortunately, none of this is really load-bearing to the spectacle itself. I can forgive that in a movie where the antagonistic bounty hunter Embo spirits Din away in a ship shaped exactly like his hat.
The stop motion mechs help too. Sometimes some Phil Tippet-inspired tomfoolery goes a long way.
If the words Caravan of Courage put a glimmer in your eye, I think you’ll have fun with this film. I also think kids and casual fans will enjoy the low stakes thrills. That’s the beauty of the stripped-down concept. While it’s a step down in grandiosity and consequence from the best of the movies and even the best of the TV offerings, it spotlights the weird little denizens of the Star Wars galaxy that made the series so fun and textured in the first place. As an all-ages fantasy adventure, it’s a delight.
I don’t know if this is the future of Star Wars on the big screen. The box office projections don’t point to a resounding yes. Shawn Levy’s Starfighter is a very exciting, very different proposition entirely. I just think there’s room for Star Wars to be a lot of different things, under many different hats. And I’m heartened that there’s still room for the weird little guys.
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