Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E10

In season two, I never expected to become such a fan of Luthen and Kleya.

In some ways, episode nine is the end of Andor season two in that it wraps up the Ghorman plotline and Cassian’s arc with Bix and his dedication to the rebellion. In the final three episodes, the season pivots to align with Rogue One and present the characters we expect to see in the movie (and wrap up the loose ends of the ones we don’t). While not as smooth a storytelling experience as season one, episode ten is an intense story that stands alone to show the beginning and end of Luthen and Kleya’s relationship. 

In “Make It Stop,” Kleya and Luthen prepare to meet Lonni (Robert Emms), their inside person at the ISB. This type of meeting has become even riskier after Mon Mothma’s speech a year ago. Back then, Cassian had urged Luthen to leave Coruscant because it was only a matter of time before the ISB found him, but Luthen has held on for another year. Even he recognizes the risk as he says to Kleya: “I think we used up all the perfect.”

When Luthen meets with Lonni, the plan that was revealed by Krennic in episode one becomes clear to Luthen. The energy program was a lie to obscure building the Death Star. Lonni was able to find this information by breaking into Dedra Meero’s files. Unfortunately for Lonni, Luthen’s dedication to the cause means Lonni cannot walk away with this information, and Luthen leaves him dead.

After Luthen walks away, the next shot is sideways, showing how this information has repositioned his worldview. Now, all that matters is that someone is able to deliver the information to the Rebel Alliance—but Lonni revealed to Luthen that Dedra is going to target him very soon.

Luthen leaves out Lonni’s warning about Dedra’s impending raid when he gives Kleya the information about the weapon and the engineer, Galen Erso. In a rare protective moment, Luthen insists Kleya leave with the information while he returns to the shop to burn their comms, knowing Dedra might arrive—and that she does. 

Watching Dedra and Luthen finally meet was a scene we’d all been waiting for and had a level of intensity that had me literally at the edge of my seat. After the violence of Ghorman and the espionage surrounding Mothma’s speech, this moment of doublespeak where they both, for a few seconds, play at not knowing the other, was a different kind of intensity. 

Luthen resumes his role one last time as the rare artifact salesman for the wealthy as Dedra walks in, claiming she has an artifact to sell him. At first, they test each other, such as when Dedra asks if everything is “real” and Luthen states there are only two pieces of “questionable provenance,” which is of course a reference to them standing there, but Dedra ends their conversation by revealing the Imperial starpath unit that had originally brought Luthen and Cassian together. Luthen knows this is the end for him, and Dedra revels in the moment, producing a memorable exchange between fascist and anti-fascist:

Dedra: “You disgust me.”

Luthen: “You want to know why?”

Dedra: “Everything you stand for.” 

Luthen: “Freedom scares you.”

He goes on to say one of my favorite lines from Luthen: “The rebellion isn’t here anymore. It’s flown away. It’s everywhere now. There’s a whole galaxy out there waiting to disgust you.”

While Luthen has quite the bodycount to his name, one reason he’s good at what he does is because he is not exempt from this same violence. In order to take his secrets with him, he stabs himself. At this moment, the episode turns, and the second half focuses on Kleya as she realizes she must make sure Luthen dies. 

The second half of the episode is interspersed with flashbacks, including when Kleya and Luthen first meet. In a parallel to Cassian, Luthen rescues Kleya from another genocide committed by the Empire. He is complicit in this genocide as a Sergeant, his radio calling out the acts of violence being committed outside the ship he is currently hiding in: people are ordered to stand against a wall, followed by blaster fire and screaming. Other orders demonstrate the mass killing. It’s never made clear what planet this genocide is happening on, but it parallels Ghorman and Cassian’s planet of Kenari, where there are so few survivors. 

As Kleya prepares to infiltrate the hospital where Luthen is being kept alive by a machine, the flashbacks show them fencing antiquities and observing Imperial atrocities. At first, young Kleya, radicalized by genocide, is frustrated with their progress, but the more senior Luthen helps her keep from burning up in her rage: “We fight to win. That means we lose, and lose and lose and lose, until we’re ready. All you know now is how much you hate. You bank that. You hide that. You keep it alive until you know what to do with it.”

Even as a child, Luthen doesn’t call Kleya his daughter, and throughout the show, while there is care in their relationship, they appear more as partners than familial. Yet, Kleya’s careful mask comes down as she murders her way into the ISB-controlled hospital wing and reaches Luthen’s bedside. Without hesitation, she releases the machine keeping Luthen alive, but she does allow herself a brief show of affection before she hurries out, escaping back to the Coruscant hideout with the information about the building of the Death Star. 

While most of the episode is focused on Kleya and Luthen, Dedra is in the process of learning an important lesson about fascism—they eat their own. As Robert Evans and his co-hosts on It Could Happen Here point out in their breakdown of episodes 10-12, Dedra is a parallel of the spunky cop who breaks a few rules to take down the big bad, but Andor reveals the copoganda of this type of figure through Dedra, who is not someone we root for but rather a fascist who committed genocide. Dedra is arrested by the ISB even though she’s finally completed her longtime mission to capture Axis. She's worked hard to achieve this moment, but rather than be rewarded, she's immediately arrested by a man who used to be her underling and is now put in a position of power over her. She cannot breakthrough the fascist patriarchy even though she is a believer in their ideology.  

The episode’s final shot is a slow fade to black of Luthen’s body. Without him, it’s questionable if Yavin would have existed, and certainly, Cassian wouldn’t have joined the rebellion. While Luthen is not the most sympathetic character, he does dedicate everything to the cause, as he points out in his monologue to Lonni in episode ten of season one: “I’ve given up all chance at inner peace. […] I’m damned for what I do.” 

In perhaps a less dramatic tone, activist Dean Spade puts it this way: “Do I want to be in the fight until I die, even though I don’t know how it’s going to turn out? Because that’s how everyone who has fought for liberation had to BE. It’s being with the uncertainty. Part of that, for me, is shifting our sense of ourselves from some good outcome that can definitely happen towards just the pleasure of being with each other in the struggle.”

Many characters exhibit this sense of purpose, and the show demonstrates multiple ways of living in this moment, from Luthen’s loss of inner peace to Maarva’s speech at the end of season one where she describes how she’d live her life differently, declaring, “Fight the empire!” Luthen and Kleya are one of these paths, and the show makes few judgements about the different paths or tools to fight the Empire, but what it is important is that dedication to the fight.

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POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E9

In episode nine, “Welcome to the Rebellion,” Mon Mothma begins to understand the cost of what she has been supporting financially for years

The episode opens with the Ghorman ambassador being arrested in the wake of the Ghorman massacre. Bail Organa (Benjamin Bratt) and Mon Mothma know now is the time for action, especially since the Imperial news is continuing the propaganda machine. As Organa says, “The winner writes the story.” To which Mothma responds, “Well, they haven’t won yet.”

It’s Mon Mothma’s moment to use her power in the Senate to attempt to make a difference. Organa decides to stay to buy more time for Yavin to develop, but after her speech, Mothma will flee to Yavin and join their leadership.

While prepping for her speech, her assistant, Erskin (Pierro Niel-Mee), finds a listening device, which Mothma destroys, alerting the ISB that something may be happening in her office. She goes to the plaza to practice her speech, where Luthen finds her. Perhaps unsurprisingly to viewers, her assistant works for Luthen and was recruited at the wedding of Mothma’s daughter. Mothma sees it as a betrayal that neither Luthen nor Erskin told her about the connection, but Luthen sees it as her assistant protecting her. Even so, feeling betrayed by Luthen, she struggles to trust his next piece of intel—that the extraction team Bail Organa has prepped to take her to Yavin has been infiltrated.

Meanwhile, Cassian is exhausted and shaken after escaping the Ghorman massacre. He meets with Kleya to receive what he claims will be his last mission with Luthen. She confronts him: “You’re tired. It’s too much, it’s too hard. You were a witness to the Ghorman massacre; one would think there’d be no stopping you.” He emphasizes he needs to “start making my own decisions,” but Kleya has a response for that, too: “I thought that’s what we were fighting for.”

Even so, he agrees to help rescue Mothma and enters the Senate as a reporter, at the same time as Organa’s compromised team also enters with an ISB agent in their group. Cassian connects with Erskin, using the now iconic line, “I have friends everywhere.” Even though Mothma immediately dismissed Erskin, he continues to help make sure she escapes.

In the senate, Mothma waits for Organa to create an opening for her. Earlier in the episode, an ISB agent had made clear that no pro-Ghorman senators would be allowed to speak, and the glimpses of the Senate narrative throughout the episode continue the Imperial line that the Imperial soldiers are “martyrs,” and that the Ghormans were not massacred but causing an insurrection. With some political maneuvering, Organa is able to break through the blockade of voices and yield the floor to Mothma. When his ploy works by invoking a specific Senate rule about emergencies, the ISB immediately orders the shutdown of the feed.

I often comment on the brilliant monologues and speeches throughout the show, but Mothma’s speech is perhaps the most important and moving in our current moment. Since I heard her speech, I have not been able to stop thinking about the line, “The death of truth is the ultimate victory of evil.” Immediately after the episode ended, I had to look up when the episode had been filmed, because it felt impossible that Gilroy and his team had written this speech with such prescience, but in interviews, Gilroy has discussed they had wanted the speech to feel as timeless as possible, which they achieved. With rising fascism and the violence of empire globally, there are certain patterns, and the pertinence of Mothma’s speech comes from recognizing those patterns and exploring them in Andor.

Rewatching this episode, the “death of truth” shook me even more as the U.S. enters yet another war on the lie of weapons of mass destruction, as more of my neighbors are disappeared off the streets of my rural hometown under the lie of being “illegal” or a “criminal,” of watching the lie that Palestinians are receiving “aid” when they are instead being murdered while world governments do nothing. Mothma counters the death of truth by speaking the truth aloud, which is when the Senate reacts to her speech: she calls the Ghorman massacre “unprovoked genocide.” Saying the word at that moment is what causes the Senate to react, and is part of claiming that truth. Words like “genocide” and “fascism” are brushed aside as extreme, as incendiary, but Mothma’s speech shows the power of using the word in the right moment, of calling something what it is.

Interestingly, Andor sets up this as being one of the most important moments in Mothma’s career. In the Senate, we see moments of her advocating for different ideas—especially for the Ghormans throughout  both seasons—but we don’t necessarily see her as being impactful in the Senate. Rather, in season 1, she is useful to Luthen because she funds his actions. In season 2, her attempt to help the Ghormans with a petition is ineffective, and even she knows that. Instead, her disruption of the Senate and her speech being aired is demonstrated as being impactful as opposed to her political power. I’ve been curious about what tactics of resistance Andor shows as working versus failing. For example, Ghorman’s plaza protest fails, but Mothma’s speech scares the Empire into frantically cutting it off.

Importantly, the only reason the Empire doesn’t succeed in immediately silencing Mothma is because of two unnamed technicians. These two technicians have maliciously followed the rules in order to slow down operations by locking out their supervisor. The exchange is worth repeating:

Supervisor: “It’s locked. Why is it locked?”

Technician: “It’s supposed to be.”

Supervisor: “It hasn’t been all year.”

Technician: “We know. We fixed it.”

Supervisor: “What?”

Technician: “We checked the protocol.”

Supervisor: “Open it.”

Technician: “You need the sequence key.”

Supervisor: “So let’s have it.”

Technician: “We took it up to the security office yesterday…”

The technician even speaks slowly compared to the frantic supervisor, who runs off to find the key, while the technicians smile to each other. Much like the hotel clerk Thela, this example of how to commit malicious compliance—a way to gum up the Empire without breaking any rules—is yet another example of praxis in this show that anyone can do off the screen.

At the very end, Mothma’s speech is cut off, but she’s successfully delivered her message to the galaxy, and finds Cassian standing outside. With the help of Erskine, Cassian kills the ISB agent on Organa’s team, then they escape to her ship. The titular moment of this episode comes as they are hurrying away from the dead body of the ISB agent and Mothma is struggling with the moment of violence, getting her hands dirty in a different way than she’s used to: “I’m not sure I can do this.” Cassian responds: “Welcome to the rebellion.” 

Cassian brings Mothma to the safehouse where he and Bix used to live, and he’s informed by Kleya and Erskine that Yavin will take over Mothma’s travel, and Cassian will essentially be written out of the story in order to make a grander narrative for Yavin. Cassian takes this in stride, but it mirrors how Mothma’s very public moments, like her speech, can only happen because of the work of Luthen, Cassian, and Kleya, which they receive little to no credit for.

These types of moments undermine the larger hero’s journey that Star Wars is so known for. The only reason these heroic moments happen—like Mothma’s speech or blowing up the Death Star—is because of the unsung work of people like Cassian, Bix, Wilmon, the hotel clerk, and the technicians, and all the other large and small acts of defiance.

POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E8

In "Who are you?", the best episode of season two—and a top-tier moment in television generally—, we bear witness to the Ghorman Massacre. 

Content Warning: Discussion of domestic violence, violence against protesters.

As Cassian is preparing for his assassination of Dedra Meero, the plaza is opened and the Ghorman Front immediately starts to rally people. In a surprising moment of clarity, the leader of the Ghorman Front, Carro Rylanz, points out the danger of gathering, but his rebels refuse to listen to him. Meanwhile, Dedra speaks to her supervisor, Major Partagaz about the plan. “The only story that matters is Ghorman aggression,” he says. “The threats, the inexplicable resistance to imperial norms.” He points the success of their propaganda and media, revealed in the board meeting during episode one: “Our struggles with Ghorman are well documented at this point.” 

In a great piece of cinematic storytelling, a few minutes later as Syril walks through the memorial plaza, a news reporter repeats Partagaz’s lines about resistance to imperial norms. The propaganda plans have fully taken over the media, demonstrating there is no help for the Ghor from the story being recorded by traditional media sources. They are fully part of the Imperial machine.

As Syril makes his way to ask Dedra what’s going on, he’s confronted by Carro Rylanz as people file by, chanting: “We are the Ghor! The galaxy is watching.” Rylanz tells Syril about the mining equipment that’s been witnessed on different parts of the plant, which Syril still tries to deny, but at this point, Rylanz knows Syril must have been helping the Empire and says: “What kind of being are you?” Syril has no response, and Rylanz demands to know: “What’s in our ground? What is it you’ve been sent to steal from us?” Like Rylanz, though, Syril has no knowledge of the mining as Dedra has kept it from him. 

He tries to see Dedra, but he’s blocked by other Imperial officers as things become more volatile during the protest. When he is finally brought in to see her, she reveals the plan he has already guessed. In this moment, Syril finally finds his agency, even though it’s through an exertion of power via domestic violence. In true fascist fashion, he can’t express himself except through domination (as opposed to being dominated by the other women in his life who dictated his agency, such as his mother or Dedra). He chokes her while asking about the mining. His shock seems to have two layers—the destruction of the planet and people he’s come to admire to some degree and the fact his girlfriend kept the information from him. He rushes out to join the crowd.

While Syril’s capability of violence has been demonstrated in season one when he tried to find Cassian, this intimate partner violence demonstrates a shift in his character. Throughout season two, Syril has received much of what he’s wanted. His partner is an officer in ISB, his mother is finally respecting him, and he’s on a special mission for the Empire. Importantly, much of these “successes” haven’t happened due to his choices. In a brilliantly acted scene early in the season, Dedra tells his mother, Eedy (Kathryn Hunter), that she will control how much Syril sees his mother and that contact will be dictated by if Eedy can behave. Syril trades one domineering relationship for another. While it does seem like Dedra cares for him in her own way—both of their abilities to care dictated by their lack of empathy—Syril is also controllable, which is why he’s the perfect person to infiltrate the Ghor, because Dedra knows she can control him. 

As Syril realizes he’s been used by his partner, he watches the breakdown of the protest in the plaza as the new recruits from the previous episode are sent out to clear a path to the memorial. While their commanding officer says that’s a bad idea, the officer in charge of the operation sends them out anyway.  

In an intensely powerful moment, Lezine starts singing the Ghorman national anthem. The crowd picks it up, and soon the whole plaza is singing, united in this moment of oppositional nationalism. As they sing, the green recruits go out to clear a path to the memorial, and the crowd grows angry, harassing them while stormtroopers blocking off the plaza observe the situation. Above the plaza, a sniper watches while TIE fighters fly over. 

Partagaz orders Dedra to continue the plan: a sniper takes out one of the young recruits, which prompts the imperial forces to open fire, including the stormtroopers. What had been a crowd singing the Ghorman national anthem becomes stormtroopers and imperial officers shooting into a plaza. A few of the Ghorman Front have blasters, but most of them are unarmed civilians. The sniper continues to take out people from the rooftop.

In the panic, Syril watches the stormtroopers kill people he had been working with, murder the citizens he’d walked past every day, and destroy the plaza his office had overlooked. In a series of slow moments, the camera focuses on Syril standing still in all this violence. 

Several commentators have suggested that Syril might have had some sort of awakening in these moments, and Disney’s official episode guide seems to support that reading as the episode summary states: “[Syril] comes to the realization that he’s been a pawn for the Empire’s machinations.” It’s easy to want to look for redemption for Syril. While he’s not a sympathetic character, we do come to know him intimately over the course of two seasons, from seeing the inside of his bedroom and how his mother treats him to the manipulation from his partner, Dedra. But, he’s always been an active part of the Empire. He wasn’t swept up into it out of necessity or drafted into the stormtroopers or even just passively involved. One of the first introductions to Syril is while he attempts to create an even more stringent sense of law and order on Ferrix. It’s his dream to be recruited by Dedra to be a spy, even if the reason for his spying is at first a lie. To me, what makes Syril such a compelling and well-written character is not this moment where he perhaps regrets his actions but because he is as dedicated to the cause as Cassian or Luthen. Cassian also has moments where he questions their tactics, but he still has resolve. So does Syril as his opposite.

Meanwhile, as Syril is having these confrontations, Cassian is quick to recognize the gathering in the plaza is a bad idea and will end in violence. As he hurries to check out of the hotel, the bellhop, Thela, tells Cassian, “Don’t worry, you were never here. Didn’t log you in.” This moment demonstrates some of the brilliance of the storytelling in Andor—and I want to point out a similar moment in the next episode. Gilroy and his team take careful pains to show how one resists. The tools are documented, and this moment is one of them. Thela breaks a small rule in order to make sure Cassian remains undetected. When Cassian responds that he hopes everything works out, Thela says: “Rebellions are built on hope.” By giving this key line to Thela, it emphasizes even more that it’s not the great leaders like Cassian, Bix, Vel, and Luthen who make the rebellion work, it’s the small acts of resistance that create great opportunities. As Nemik from season one says in his manifesto: “Remember that the frontier of the Rebellion is everywhere. And even the smallest act of insurrection pushes our lines forward.”

Cassian joins the Ghorman protest outside, trying to find Wilmon, as they both realize the stormtroopers are prepared to “kettle” the Ghorman, cutting off their escape in a great visualization of tactics currently being used against protestors in L.A. these past few weeks. Much like Thela’s small act of resistance, Gilroy and his team also show the tactics of empire to disrupt protest. The stormtroopers contain the protestors, fly intimidating TIE fighters over the crowds, and, most importantly, they start the violence by killing one of their own people to then pin on the protestors. K2 units are released on the crowd, and their efficient violence and nearly impenetrable armor makes them horrific enemies as they are able to crush people to death. 

In the violent chaos, Cassian still tries to complete his mission of assassinating Dedra, and as he is about to take the shot, Syril finally sees him in the crowd. Syril reacts with an intensity of violence that we nearly saw when he threatened to kill his partner. Now, he turns all that anger onto Cassian, the man he’d hunted and had caused him to lose his job. It’s a brutal fight as they both go for the soft parts—the eyes, mouths—and use whatever weapons are at hand as the Imperial forces continue to massacre the Ghorman. 

Syril is relentless, dragging himself upright after an explosion that Cassian thinks has taken him out. He finds a gun and has Cassian in his sights. With desperation in his voice, Cassian asks: “Who are you?” Cassian’s lack of awareness of Syril’s existence makes Syril hesitate. It’s easy to imagine what might be going through his mind, that the only reason Syril is standing in that plaza, a contributor to a massacre, is because of Cassian, the man he became obsessed with. In that moment of hesitation, Syril is shot through the head by Rylanz.

In interviews, Gilroy and Diego Luna have talked about how they had to fight to keep the line “Who are you?” in the episode, which seems wild. The moment provides so much clarity for Syril’s character—all that hatred for a person who doesn’t even know him. As a piece of anti-fascist media, this moment feels important to the broader message. A necessary tool of fascism is an “other” that can be blamed for the ills of the world. On an interpersonal level, Cassian represents that “other” for Syril (and from a casting perspective, Diego Luna and Kyle Soller replicate the current fascist othering happening in the U.S. right now). This question from Cassian dramatizes how all that hate from Syril is a one-way street and not representative of reality. Rather, Syril was trying to turn something he'd imagined into reality.

After Syril’s death, Cassian and Wilmon escape the plaza. Wilmon chooses to stay on Ghorman to help his girlfriend, a member of the Ghorman Front. In the final shots, Wilmon’s girlfriend Dreena (Ella Pellegrini), attempts to broadcast what happened during the massacre. Wilmon also charges Cassian to spread the story. 

A long shot shows Cassian’s face as he escapes and Dreena's message plays as narration: “We are under siege. We are being slaughtered…” This message contrasts with the news media, which shares the Imperial narrative that the Ghor started the violence and that the dead imperial officers are martyrs (including Syril). 

What makes this episode, and the following episode “Welcome to the Rebellion,” so important is the familiarity of it all. Videos on TikTok juxtapose shots from these episodes with protests actively happening across the country as I write. Someone graffitied an ad for Andor, adding a speech bubble to Luthen’s mouth condemning ICE. Like the best revolutionary media, Andor has captured our current moment. While Gilroy has stated in interviews that this season wasn’t meant to be predictive, the prescience is still uncanny and speaks to Gilroy and his team’s understanding of fascism.

In a recent video post, resistance scholar Dr. Tad Stoermer points out that Andor is “practically an instruction manual” and sums up what he sees as the takeaway: “Resistance, to have any hope of success, requires regular people…to risk, to sacrifice, to lose with no force on their side other than their own will. […] What are you …willing to risk…for a better world you might never live to see?”

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POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E7

In "Messenger," we return to Yavin, where things have become much more official

In episode 2, we have a final shot showing the famous structures of Yavin after watching what remains of Maya Pei’s rebels destroy each other—and put Cassian at risk—with their infighting. Somehow, out of that, we see Yavin 4 has grown into something much more familiar. The organized, rebel activity mirrors what viewers have come to expect from Rogue One and A New Hope. Even so, that history of infighting still remains, and the sharp hierarchy, while helping to organize an army as opposed to Maya Pei’s grungy fighters, chafes against Cassian and other Luthen operatives who have come to Yavin.

Cassian and Bix have settled down at Yavin even though both are still operatives. Bix is in a more stable place of mind after killing the root of her traumas a year ago, and she and Cassian have a beautiful home, which is one of my favorite aspects of the Yavin scenes. In comparison to the gloomy bolthole of Coruscant where Cassian and Bix spent the previous year, the lush greenery of Yavin feels welcoming and peaceful, even as they work to build an army. It’s a glimpse into the type of world they are fighting for.

Wilmon returns with a message from Luthen, asking if Cassian is ready to work. He’s been organizing with the people on Ghorman, and now has a mission from Luthen to assassinate Dedra Meero, the destroyer of their hometown of Ferrix. At first, Cassian rejects the idea. He’s separated himself from Luthen as he helps to grow Yavin, while Wilmon is still dedicated to Luthen’s cloak-and-dagger approach. He accuses Cassian: “You act like Luthen’s the enemy.” But Cassian has a more measured approach to Luthen and says: “That would be easier.”

As I continue to rewatch and write about Andor, Luthen becomes more interesting of a character. He’s not a one-dimensional hero, nor are his tactics portrayed as a warning or villainous. He is a path toward organizing against the Empire. Not the only path, as Cassian is pointing out to Wilmon, but a path that made Yavin possible, even if Luthen left bodies in his wake. As Luthen says in his excellent monologue in season 1: “I’ve made my mind a sunless place. […] I’m damned for what I do.”

While so many characters shine in season 2, I haven’t spent much time talking about Syril Karn, one of the most fascinating characters of this season. On Ghorman, he’s living his dream of being an ISB spy for the empire and working under his girlfriend, Dedra Meero. He’s successfully infiltrated the Ghorman Front, but his position is put at risk when a supposed rebel attack occurs. The Ghorman Front claims not to have done it, but every news outlet is reporting “another terrorist attack overnight” and a continued “terror campaign.” Of course, the use of this word “terrorist” brings to mind the previous episode where Krennic has the great line: “My rebel is your terrorist, something like that.” Of course, Krennic understands the power of propaganda as, in the first episode, he hired a media team to control the story around the Ghorman.

Indeed, Krennic’s plan is coming to fruition, and Pendergast alerts Dedra that they are moving forward with the original plan to mine the planet in such a way as to destroy it. The Ghorman people will be forced to relocate, as the planet will be destabilized.

Dedra and Syril’s relationship feels the strain of this situation. He’s being manipulated, but he doesn’t understand how much he’s actually being shut out as he has no idea the planet is going to be destroyed. His Ghorman Front contact slaps him when he tries to explain the situation, and he begins to realize more is going on than his girlfriend told him. Dedra tries to smooth it over by saying they’ll be rewarded, but his desire to know what is about to happen overwhelms his trust in her.

Meanwhile, the Ghorman Front is struggling. Mirroring the Maya Pei scenes from the first arc, the members are fracturing as they try to decide what to do. Their leader, Carro Rylanz, is only in favor of peaceful protest: “Peaceful resistance is not pretending. It’s the only thing that carries any dignity.” The younger members of the group are looking for more direct action as the Imperial occupation grows worse. Lezine ultimately brings the group back together, reminding them of their shared love for Ghorman.

We also get a quick glimpse of the bellhop, Thela (Stefan Crepon), from when Cassian came to Ghorman to investigate the Front. He’s now joined the group, and when Cassian returns to Ghorman along with Wilmon to take on Luthen’s mission, Thela recognizes him. He warns Cassian about a protocol they have at the hotel in terms of alerting the Imperial occupiers of new arrivals. Like Lezine, I love Thela’s character because he’s a regular person working a service job who still wants to stand up for what he believes in. These characters are powerful inclusions in anti-fascist storytelling because it gives the average viewer an entry point. Not everyone will be Cassian, but anybody can be the bellhop who doesn’t follow procedures exactly and keeps his mouth shut about seeing Cassian come in under a different alias.

I’ll end on a small scene that, like so many of the quieter moments, not only builds out the world, but corresponds closely with leftist/organizing circles. At the beginning of the episode, Cassian is dealing with a blaster wound that isn’t healing properly. Bix tries to convince him to visit a “Force healer” (unnamed but played by Josie Walker), which he wants nothing to do with because he thinks they are all fakes. While they are arguing within the vicinity of the Force healer, she senses his presence and walks over. She offers to try to heal his blaster wound, and she successfully helps him. She also senses via the Force that Cassian has an important part to play in the rebellion and appreciates his clarity of vision: “All that you’ve been gathering, the strength of spirit.”

What I enjoyed about this scene was how it recontextualizes the Force as an alternative or subversive spiritual practice. In many leftist circles, there’s this reach for something spiritual or holistic beyond Judeo-Christian beliefs. Sometimes, this takes the form of returning to older spiritual practices that have been destroyed by empire, such as Indigenous ways of knowing or pagan/heathen practices. Placing Force-sensitive people like the healer or Chirrut Îmwe (Donnie Yen) from Rogue One in this framework is an interesting addition to the worldbuilding in the way it mirrors actual leftist spaces.

The Force healer also has one of the most beautiful descriptions of Cassian when talking to Bix about what she felt through the Force: “Most beings carry the things that shape them, carry the past. But some, very few, your pilot, they’re gathering as they go. There’s a purpose to it. He’s a messenger.”

Of course, within the context of Rogue One, we know what message he has to carry, but this line also has much more immediate implications for Ghorman.

POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E6

As things heat up on Ghorman, episode six provides an important look into Luthen's character.

Episode six, “What a Festive Evening” marks the end of the second small arc out of four. The next arc is, arguably, the most important of the show and a high point in U.S. television. While this episode does not contain the gravitas of the next three episodes, it still has an important job of showcasing that Luthen’s ability as a leader is rarely rooted in kindness or empathy.  

Luthen picks up Cassian still disguised as a fashion designer after his interview with the Ghorman Front, but he’s surprised and disappointed when Cassian says to not be involved: “They started too late, now they’re rushing.” Luthen pushes back, which leads to one of the great exchanges that starts to shift Cassian’s thinking:

Cassian: “I’m thinking like a soldier.”

Luthen: “Think like a leader.”

With Luthen, Cassian obeys orders. He doesn’t think beyond that. He goes where he’s told and completes missions with great success. In order to become the Cassian of Rogue One, though, that will have to change. In season one, Cassian goes from a-political thief to becoming part of Luthen’s team determined to defeat the Empire at any cost. In season two, he needs to become the leader able to inspire a group of rebels to sacrifice themselves to deliver the Death Star plans. This exchange with Luthen begins to mark that change in Cassian. 

But, Luthen doesn’t listen to Cassian. On Ghorman, Vel (Faye Marsay) has now arrived, unbeknownst to Cassian. She’ll be working with her former lover from the Aldhani heist, Cinta (Varada Sethu). Vel told Luthen she’d only take the job if Cinta were on it. Their love rekindles, and they both realize that it is Luthen keeping them apart. Much like Luthen’s meddling with Cassian and Bix’s relationship, Vel says that she and Cinta are worth more to him apart than together. To Luthen, they are tools in his mission to destroy the Empire at any cost—not to support them as full human beings.

Together, Vel and Cinta try to teach the untested Ghorman Front how to run an operation. While the Ghormans chafe under their orders, they agree to work together and do as they’re told, including remaining unarmed. At first, the heist to steal the secret imperial weapons—organized by Syril to trap the Ghorman—goes smoothly, until one of the Ghorman, Lezine from the townhall, arrives and wants to know what’s going on. Another Ghorman pulls a gun on him, a struggle ensues, and ultimately Cassian’s prediction comes true. They weren’t ready. They didn’t follow orders and brought a gun when only Vel and Cinta were supposed to be armed. 

The gun goes off—and Cinta dies.

As they escape with Lezine carrying Cinta’s body and Vel struggling to contain her emotions, she says one of the great lines of season two. To the young rebel who accidentally shot Cinta and is now breaking down into tears, she says: “This is on you now. This is like skin.”

Meanwhile, Luthen and Kleya have their own problems as a listening device they planted in an antique in Davo Sculden’s home is about to be discovered. They get dressed up and party with the Imperial officers and politicians, including Mon Mothma and Director Orson Krennic. In one of the standout performances of the episode, Kleya must sneakily remove the bug right in front of Krennic. Much like this whole three-episode arc, this party sequence leans into Tony Gilroy’s previous work on spy films. As the tension rises, though, we also get to see two incredible actors traded barbs from opposite sides of the aisle as Mothma needles Krennic. She greets him immediately with: “How pleasant to see you free of the witness stand,” which prompts the snarky back and forth. 

While Mothma is unaware that Kleya is trying to remove a listening device, the rising tension between her and Krennic is the perfect cover for Kleya, leading to one of Krennic’s great lines: “My rebel is your terrorist, something like that.” Of course, this is the great irony of watching any Star Wars property in the twenty-first century. The actions the “good guy” rebels take are what the U.S. government would label as acts of terrorism (this is especially clear in Rogue One where Saw Gerrera’s forces are dressed to look West Asian). While many commentators have made this connection between rebel/terrorist in the past, Andor including it so openly in the dialogue continues to build the antifascist narrative as clearly as possible.

The episode ends on two high notes. As Luthen and Kleya walk out, they joke that they should have offed Krennic at the party, which, considering all the pain that Krennic and his Death Star cause, is a darkly funny moment. Additionally, the episode ends with a delightful moment of revenge. Luthen sends Bix on a mission to kill the man who tortured her. We learn earlier in the episode that his method of torture was so successful that the Emperor wanted to expand it—but Bix gets there first. She puts him in the chair and leaves him to the same torture he put her through. On the way out, Cassian blows up the building as they walk away in an epic shot. One of my favorite small details about that moment is, on the soundtrack, Nicholas Britell titled that track “The Bix Is Back.”

While this trilogy of episodes doesn’t end on the high note of “Harvest” in the first arc, it does set up the viewer for some of the best television I’ve seen in years—perhaps some of the best storytelling Star Wars has to offer. Importantly, we see Luthen beginning to crack. While he’s been effective in building the rebellion in the early stages, as it continues to grow and face opposition, he and Kleya struggle, even leading him to say to her: “We’re drowning.” He’s never been the comforting type to Cassian or Bix, but as he struggles to defeat the Empire at any cost, the people under him suffer. 

But even so, the rebellion is growing and spreading….

POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions Are Built on Hope: Andor S2E4

A year after the trauma of Min-Rau, Cassian and Bix have uneasy peace on Coruscant

Andor has always had a heavy pour of spy thriller in it, part of which I’ve attributed to showrunner Tony Gilroy’s earlier work on the Jason Bourne franchise. In “Ever Been to Ghorman?”, the spy genre is in full swing as Cassian and Syril Karn both go undercover on Ghorman.

Cassian is hesitant to leave Bix as they’ve started to relax a little in Coruscant, where the density of the city keeps them safe. Even so, Cassian doesn’t let his guard down, avoiding areas with cameras since his face is known and growing frustrated when Bix returns to a bodega she frequented a month ago. As Bix says, trying to ease his tension, today “the mission is shopping.”

While Cassian’s struggles are outward, placing stress on his relationship with Bix, hers are internal. She can’t sleep, and the episode opens with her stalking through their apartment with a drawn blaster, following the ghost of her torturer from season 1. The trauma of being tortured by the Empire at the hands of Dedra Meero still haunts Bix. In this dream, her torturer confronts her about Cassian killing a young imperial pilot on their last mission.

When Bix can’t let it go, she accuses Cassian of making the choice to kill the young pilot because he’d seen her face, but Cassian insists it was necessary because he worked for the Empire. This moment is in nice juxtaposition to episode 1, where a low-level worker assists Cassian in stealing the TIE fighter. She accidentally looks at his face and apologizes because she was told not to, but he says it’s all right, and they have an uplifting moment of connection as they both risk their lives for a nascent resistance. In that case, with a supportive, vetted person, Cassian was willing to break the rules, but he has no tolerance for anyone supporting the Empire—which we see throughout the series as the body count rises.

Meanwhile, Syril is living his dream by working under his girlfriend, Dedra Meero, for the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB). In the last post, I know I didn’t touch on one of the best scenes between Syril and Dedra, but I’ll come back to the dinner scene with his mother when I talk about Syril’s character as a whole in episode 9. For now, Syril is playing spy and living the life. He’s been moved to the capital city of Ghorman, Palmo, where he works in an Imperial office overlooking the square where the Tarkin Massacre occurred. Every day, a small group of protestors call out against the Empire’s presence in building something—perhaps an armory—that will shadow the square.

Syril is cast as the sympathetic Imperial worker and plays his role when video-calling with his mother, Eedy Karn (with an amazingly cringey performance by Kathryn Hunter). She’s been overtaken by the propaganda machine utilized by the Empire to turn public opinion against the Ghor, and Syril tells her to watch something other than Imperial television (in a conversation all too familiar to most of us). The Ghorman Front—the relatively inexperienced and untested resistance on Ghorman—is listening in. They demonstrate their naivete by inviting Syril to a townhall and quickly bringing him into their group, even introducing them to their leader, the public-facing city councilor, Carro Rylanz (Richard Sammel).

While important to the plot, the townhall is also a beautiful feat of worldbuilding. As discussed by Reactor Magazine, the Ghor conlang sounds distinctly French, and primary speakers were played by French actors. Before I knew about the effort that went into the conlang, I was struck by how fluidly the actors spoke the language. It felt natural in a way conlang doesn’t always come across, especially during emotional scenes—and the townhall certainly has a lot of emotion as people yell at the council and make rude gestures, leading Lezine (Thierry Godard and my favorite Ghorman) to interrupt the meeting with his comments. The gestures, such as tapping the chest in addition to applause, are what add a lived-in feeling to this world and make the Ghor feel like a fully developed culture.

Of course, the connection to the French resistance during World War II is obvious, but like all of Andor’s historical storytelling beats, the series never becomes an allegory or parable. Instead, the Ghorman Front is a demonstration of early mistakes by those new to resistance, as they trust Syril too quickly, which we know will lead to the eventual destruction of Ghorman for kalkite to build the Death Star.

While some of the general conversation around the show is that the pacing isn’t as strong as the first season—or just too slow generally—I’ll take that for a depth of worldbuilding that not only develops the plot but deepens the show’s commitment to anti-imperialism and to demonstrating how anti-fascist action works. In many interviews, Tony Gilroy, as well as the cast, has talked about the level of detail that has gone into the show, whether it’s the quality of the costumes or the hand ritual from this episode that Bix and Cassian conducted. In an episode heavy with interpersonal conflict between Bix and Cassian, this moment of tender ritual is deeply moving and shows their dedication to each other. As Adria Arjona told The Hollywood Reporter: “But Diego slowly started doing this thing with his hand, and then I just followed in a way. It was really beautiful, and it was a moment of connection between two actors. […] It was so simple, but it had so much depth to it in the making of it and even the performing of it.”

I’ll take these moments of worldbuilding—from the space bodega to hand ritual—over a blaster fight any day, especially when such moments demonstrate the importance of relationships in the face of fascism. As critic and writer from France, John Berger, said about tenderness: “[Tenderness] is almost a defiant act of freedom.”

POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Rebellions are Built on Hope: Andor S2E1

As some of you know, I’m a big Andor fan, have reviewed season one, written about the show, and have a Cassian quote tattooed on my arm. With season two premiering, I wanted to take a closer look at each episode and some of the politics and modes of resistance—and just plain great storytelling. 

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be reviewing each episode. Disney has chosen to release the twelve episodes in four chunks, but I’ve decided to slow down and give each episode it’s due. As I’ve rewatched season one, I continue to be surprised by the nuance of the show, and I’m hoping the same for season two (and so far, it hasn’t disappointed!). I’ll be writing these reviews with the assumption readers have watched season one and watched the episode, so I won’t be tagging spoilers. As readers of my previous Andor content will know, one of my major fascinations with the series is the anti-fascist aspect of the storytelling, so these pieces will lean in that direction. On to season two!

The first episode is titled “One Year Later,” and much like the description, the episode sets up a lot of plot lines: “An undercover mission. A sanctuary threatened. A Chandrilan wedding. A chilling imperial plan.” The hour-long episode sets up these four plotlines, which seem to have a rotating centrality to the season as a whole. 

The episode opens with Niya (Rachelle Diedericks), helping Cassian Andor (with continued excellent acting by Diego Luna) steal an experimental TIE fighter model. She’s new to helping the rebellion, and she’s nervous. Part of this scene shows how Cassian has changed over the past year since he fled the planet Ferrix with his friends Brasso (Joplin Sibtain), Bix (Adria Arjona), and Wilmon Paak (Muhannad Bhaier). Cassian has come into his own and presents a level of leadership more reminiscent of the Cassian Andor from Rogue One. When comforting Niya, we get one of those great, inspiring Andor moments: “The Empire cannot win. You’ll never feel right unless you’re doing what you can to stop them. You’re coming home to yourself.” 

This moment builds to Cassian confidently entering the TIE fighter, starting it, and—absolutely messing up. Even though his prominence as a pilot was a major point of season one, he cannot figure out how to fly the fighter, and his quiet exit becomes a serious action sequence before he finally escape. But this escape is only the beginning of his problems. 

Enter the Maya Pei. When Cassian lands to meet his Rebellion contact, a group of guerrilla fighters capture him instead. He realizes they are the Maya Pei, a group that the Rebellion has even supported in the past, but they refuse to believe he isn’t what he looks like—an Imperial pilot. The Maya Pei are clearly part of the rebellion in terms of their hatred of the Empire, but they seem totally inept and infighting quickly divides the group.

In episode one, Cassian’s storyline is the least political, but also the most fascinating as it seems off kilter to the seriousness of the other plotlines. The Maya Pei are hilariously bad at being guerrilla fighters. Right now, their depiction lacks some nuance since guerrilla warfare has been very successful against many authoritarian regimes, so this clownish depiction seems at odds with the serious and thoughtful analysis of empire and revolt of the previous season. I currently have two ideas. First, I think the Maya Pei will return in the season to bring some of that nuance. Second, this season seems to be speaking to the problems of leftist responses to empire, especially the early stages of rebellion (which may feel familiar to U.S. viewers). I’m curious how this thread will continue or not. 

Turning to the other three storylines, the Empire’s plotline held the most fascination for me. I loved how Andor season one made the Empire feel like an empire down to making it clear the people who support it are just weird, dangerous, isolated people (like all Fascists are). The Empire in Andor is rarely, if ever, cool but rather banal and bureaucratic, which doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. Dedra Meero (with an amazing performance by Denise Gough) is invited to join a top secret project led by Director Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn). I assumed Krennic would be a much later reveal as a major returning character from Rogue One, so I was pleasantly surprised to see him revealed in episode one. 

The imperial project is a mining operation on the planet Ghorman. The Ghorman people are set up as a somewhat powerful entity—at least one that won’t go quietly—and in order to be able to mine the planet, they will have to be subdued. The Empire has already worked to undermine the Ghorman reputation through propaganda. In a move that feels so relevant to the social media misinformation of today, two hired propagandists explain how certain stereotypes of the Ghorman people were started by their propaganda.

This chilling boardroom sequence discussing how the Empire intends to destroy a people, culture, and planet for a mining operation felt particularly poignant when paralleled with the third storyline—visas. While Cassian is running missions for the Luthen (Stellan Skarsgård), his Rebellion contact from season one, his friends Bix, Brasso, and Wilmon are living as undocumented agricultural workers on Mina-Rau. Over the past year, they’ve settled in, with Brasso in a long-term relationship with a citizen and Wilmon dating a citizen, which is causing problems with her parents because he doesn’t have a visa. 

In the U.S., it’s impossible not to feel the poignancy of one of our most popular franchises showing the struggles of undocumented people. This moment is paralleled with the boardroom scene as Krennic and other members of the fascist Empire work to dispossess another people of their planet, thus turning them into refugees—if they survive. 

Much like season one, the first episode of season two is a slow burn (though the next two episodes build quickly). Yet, these four storylines (I’ll talk about Mon Mothma and Chandril in the next episode review), set up the gritty realism of a fascist Empire—and the real fight against it—that I have come to expect in Andor. 

As such a big fan of the first season, I was deeply worried about season two. Writer Tony Gilroy could still disappoint, but I, once again, feel like I’m in careful hands. 

POSTED BY: Phoebe Wagner (she/they) is an author, editor, and academic writing and living at the intersection of speculative fiction and environmentalism.

Star Wars Subjectivities: Rogue One

Problem: How to make a galaxy far, far away relatable to human viewers? Answer: Get rid of the space wizards.

I wouldn't have believed that a Star Wars movie could ever appeal to me. When I first saw an expressionless, comically stiff-necked rando with an inverted bucket on his head kidnap a princess with two huge donuts on her head who'd just entrusted her life's mission to a beeping wheeled thermos, I was unimpressed, to say the least. A few minutes later, when the movie solemnly introduced its protagonist to what was supposed to be the legendary weapon of the Jedi knights (basically a neon party glow stick), it was impossible for me to feel any respect for that universe.

That's one of the defining flaws of Star Wars: it tackles very serious themes in very unserious ways. How does the Galactic Empire operate? Why exactly did Palpatine seize power? What is so dark about the Dark Side? The prequels were supposed to fill in these blanks, but they doubled down on the original trilogy's reductive view of evil. There was potential to explore the insidious machinations that make a fascist dictatorship possible, but what we got in Episodes 1 to 3 was a moustache-twirling caricature of political ambition.

This being the overall impression Star Wars had left on me, I was meh about the prequels, and meh again when Disney announced it was producing its own movies. I saw The Force Awakens merely to be informed about it, and my low expectations weren't challenged. But one day I stumbled upon the first trailer for Rogue One, and I knew I just had to watch it.

Unlike the Episode movies, Rogue One doesn't view itself as an epic tale. It doesn't come clothed in the trappings of ancestral legend. Sure, it carries all the gravitas of inevitable tragedy, but it doesn't waste its effort in trying to prove it to you. It has none of the Episodes' suffocating self-importance. Whereas A New Hope puffs out its chest, convinced it's the love child of Shakespeare and Wagner, Rogue One keeps its attention down to earth, focused on the pain of oppression. It rejects the romanticized representation of war in the original trilogy, a thrilling adventure that culminates in everlasting glory. Instead, it owns up to the messy moral compromises you have to make when you're fighting absolute evil.

If admittedly simplistic labels such as "grimdark" and "noblebright" mean anything, Star Wars is a prime example of noblebright. The galaxy may look rustic, even derelict (I swear I'll scream if I have to hear that damn phrase "lived-in" one more time), but the story never lets go of its unshakable hope in the victory of Light over Dark. Now, there's nothing wrong with shining a golden halo above your heroes, but Star Wars pairs its chivalric fantasy with the gritty underbelly of tyranny, and the combination doesn't really work. Star Wars wants to have its noblebright cake and eat it alive too. This is the mistake that Rogue One knows to avoid.

Rogue One rejects the noblebright assumptions of just war theory and dramatizes with unblinking honesty the ugliness of armed rebellion. You may have been pushed to the breaking point where only violence will give you freedom, and you may be fully justified in seizing that freedom by force, but the rightness of your cause does not negate the inherent immorality of violence. War corrupts everyone it touches, even those fighting for the virtuous cause. And the character of Cassian Andor is a superb illustration of the muddy grey zone you have to inhabit once you've chosen to take up arms. Andor has lied and cheated and betrayed in the service of the Rebellion, and it bears fruit: this final mission will give the galaxy the strategic edge over the Empire it desperately needs. But you're not meant to forget the cost of that victory. As you'll recall, Return of the Jedi makes the ridiculous argument that Darth Vader killing the Emperor somehow suffices as redemption. Rogue One treats the viewer with more respect than that.

Moreover, Rogue One figures out how to work within the limitations established by the prequels. At this point in the timeline, there are no active Jedis, so the Rebellion has to make do with the proverbial duct tape and a prayer. That's the winning formula for instant relatability. Star Wars needs more stories like this (as Andor would later prove): human-sized stories where grit, perseverance and cooperation prove stronger than an entire Imperial army.

As Star Wars viewers know better than anyone, it's extremely hard to make a decent prequel. In Revenge of the Sith, the final fight between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Vader is choreographed and acted as if it were an explosive climax with massive emotional stakes... which it could be, if we didn't already know that both characters are alive in A New Hope. So this supposedly epic duel carries zero tension. Rogue One avoids that problem by using original characters. The effect, once the battle on Scarif has begun, is that the viewer slowly comes to realize that everyone in the core team is going to die, because they don't appear in the original trilogy. This is a brilliant way of leveraging viewer knowledge to enhance the drama.

And what a stellar cast we have here. Jyn Erso grows from disaffected outlaw to true believer. Cassian Andor finds a worthy reason to justify all his past misdeeds. Chirrut Îmwe is a fascinating Force-sensitive character who doesn't become a Force-user, like the Jedi, but still follows his faith to where the Force needs him to be. K-2SO is the perfect deliverer of gallows comedy. And Galen Erso navigates his delicate position by making the most of what little agency he's allowed, to the point that his story has prompted academic discussion about the ethics of engineering in the real world. There are misfires, of course; the unconvincing reanimation of Grand Moff Tarkin is a disgrace to the digital arts. We're fortunate that he's used only sparingly.

Rogue One didn't need to exist. "Why did the Death Star have a design defect?" is exactly the kind of trivia question that never matters, just like "Why didn't Rose make space for Jack on that door?" or "Why wasn't the Holdo maneuver tried before?" or "Why didn't the Fellowship just ride eagles to Mordor?" But once you've decided that you're going to make a whole movie to address that question, you had better commit to giving a meaningful answer. Rogue One took the question seriously and delivered an emotionally mature account of the pressing circumstances that make people risk everything.

The storytelling achievement that is Rogue One was the first Star Wars movie I liked, and it was what gave me the motivation to go to the cinema for The Last Jedi the following year. As I'll soon describe in its own post, that was another happy viewing experience.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

Rogue One Review-O-Rama

Did you see Rogue One: A Star Wars Story? Probably! A lot of people did. A good chunk of the flock here did, and instead of fighting over who gets to review it, we all chipped in with short reviews. We start with Joe, showing incredible restraint in keeping it to four (and change) paragraphs:

Joe:

If you wondered if there would be significant differences between the mainline numbered Star Wars movies and these off year side stories being told within the larger Star Wars Universe, Rogue One should answer that question with a definitive and resounding yes. Despite the near constant presence of war and conflict throughout the franchise (check the “Wars” in Star Wars), there has always been a general sense of grand adventure operating at the highest levels of the fight. Rogue One is a grim movie that is right down in the fight.

This is the first Star Wars movie with a raw sense of desperation. The Death Star is nearing completion and the Rebellion knows it and knows if they can’t find some way to stop it that all hope really is lost. We know from A New Hope that such a way is found, but that does little to lessen the tension of this intense chase where nearly every character is in mortal danger and the fate of the Rebel Alliance teeters on the narrowest of edges.

The biggest strength of Rogue One is midway through the movie when the two primary missions are set in motion and Rogue One becomes much more of a war movie. We may not know or remember the names of most of the characters beyond Jyn Erso, Cassian, and the snarkily depressed droid K2 voiced by Alan Tudyk, but the ensemble helps build an atmosphere that is much stronger than the individual characters and because this is a war movie that does not pull many punches, we feel the loss and the sacrifice each time it is made.

Rogue One is certainly not a perfect movie, and the first third or so seems to be set in a different story while we wait for Jyn to actually become part of the rebellion, but this is also the sort of Star Wars movie I’ve been hoping for. Some of my favorite Star Wars Expanded Universe books were Karin Traviss’ Republic Commando novels providing a grunt level look at the Clone Wars. Rogue One may be the closest we’ll come to that.

Side Note: Forest Whitaker is utterly wasted in this movie and I can’t quite tell if it is solely due to his performance or if it was how his character was presented.

Rating: 8/10

Brian

I had a lot to digest after walking out of Rogue One, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I liked it. It’s a qualified conclusion. I liked Rogue One despite the completely flat Jyn Erso. The other characters, particularly Chirrut Imwe (played by Donnie Yen) and Baze Malbus (played by Jiang Wen), completely outshine Felicity Jones’ Erso, so it’s good that it’s more or less an ensemble movie and not simply about Erso’s contribution to the rebellion. I liked Rogue One despite not fulfilling some of the promise of the first teaser trailer. I was expecting more skulduggery but I got a mostly competent war movie.

I liked Rogue One despite the first two-thirds of the film kind of being a mess. The tone isn’t always clear and it sometimes feels like I walked into a different movie halfway. I’m certain there’s more to it that I missing because I haven’t read every novel or watched every TV show, but the last third of the movie needs no more setup than the first two-thirds to succeed and it’s fantastic. The last third of the movie is some of my favorite Star Wars stuff. It’s the best paced, best executed part of the film. It’s a good thing they end the movie on such a high note, because this would’ve been an entirely different review if the last third was anything like the first two.

On a final (less serious) note, I liked Rogue One despite completely disregarding the already established canon that the Death Star plans were stolen by Kyle Katarn from the secret Imperial base on Danuta, playable in entirety in Dark Forces, my favorite Star Wars game of all time. At least Cassian has a passing resemblance to Katarn, even if they’re obviously not the same character.

Rating: 7/10

Vance

They really put the “war” in Star Wars this time around. Rogue One is an imperfect movie, and there are shortcomings that I could shine a light on here or there, but I want to echo Brian in that the final third of the movie — straightforward war movie filmmaking that's as wrenching as anything I've ever seen in Star Wars — is fantastic.

But I want to put the movie in a larger context and say that this is the Star Wars for our time. The grown-ups took away our vegetables, so we don't get many thoughtful, adult movies anymore meant for a wide audience, and now we have to get our social relevance in superhero movies or pew-pew laser movies. In 1977, the United States had been wallowing in the fallout of Watergate for a few years, and had gotten movies in the 70s paranoid style like Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View as a result. Star Wars came along and was the best of escapism, and gave huge audiences a whole other galaxy to dive into to get away from the mess we’d been so mired in.

Rogue One comes at a very different time. We are living in a moment where Watergate-style hijinks are de rigeur, and whatever lies on our immediate horizon is… uncertain...at best. So though it was shot some 18 months ago, Rogue One steps into our experience by giving us characters who are on a tightrope between what is right now and what may yet be; the worst of what may come to pass. They are asked, “How much are you willing to give?” So yeah, it's not a perfect movie, but in many ways it's the most honest Star Wars movie to date, and that it's the most grim is also saying something.

8/10. (It gets one more point than I would've given it otherwise just for the last scene with Vader.)

Dean

I give Joe a hard time, but really I want to talk about this movie forever. There is so much I loved about it, and so, so little I hated, it's hard to know where to begin.

I will say, expectations are hard to manage in this age of constant media. With Episode VII, I wanted to know ev-re-thing, but with Rogue One, I did everything I could to avoid spoilers, and most media of it. I was worried hearing about reshoots and them changing to tone to be more 'traditional Star Wars'. As has been mentioned, the tone had some odd changes, but for the most part, it was a grounded war movie. I loved some of the different settings, and the urban setting for the first battle brought Star Wars to the ground level.

Other than the occasional shifts in tone, I loved it all. The characters were amazing, and they did a good job of fleshing them out appropriately. The obvious challenge though, was all of us kind of/sort of knowing the ending. This was handled masterfully, with tons of suspense and the coolest battle Star Wars has ever seen.

Overall, a great addition to Star Wars, and gives us hope for the rest of the Star Wars stories to come. Simply put, if a scene where Darth Vader chokes someone is the worst part of your movie, you made a good movie.

8/10.


The G

Okay, I'm late to this party, so I'll keep things succinct. First off, I enjoyed the film. It looked and sounded great and featured top-notch action scenes. And I appreciated the fact that it's a different kind of Star Wars story, with a narrower and less epic focus. 

On the other hand, what the fuck was up with that rebel council scene? I mean, it was basically like a town hall from the glory days of The Simpsons, only without a shred of irony. Cringeworthy. 

And speaking of faults,  I don't care for the way Rogue One recontextualizes A New Hope. In that film, it is strongly implied that the flaw in the Death Star is a function of the Empire's arrogance--the smug certainty that nothing could ever threaten their colossus, and especially not something as insignificant as a single-manned fighter. Now, well...I won't spoil it for you. But warning: it's corny-ass Hollywood bullshit. 



I guess, in the end, if I consider Rogue One on its own merits, I'd probably give it an 8/10. But as canon, I give it a 6/10. I'll split the difference. 

7/10. 

Zhaoyun

It’s funny you should say that, Vance, because I’m taking one point away for what I thought was the gratuitous “fan service” quality to Vader’s appearance. To be sure, he was impressive there, at the end, but--as many of us have already commented--the raw desperation and brutality of this movie’s narrative, especially in the final moments, created a strong mismatch with the tone of the beginning of the 1977 film, a retcon that fails philosophically even if it succeeds in bringing events into sequence with “A New Hope” (itself a retronym!).

Visually, Rogue One is remarkable, especially in its CG incarnations of Tarkin (despite Peter Cushing’s death!) and Leah (despite Carrie Fisher’s--ahem--somewhat changed appearance in 2016 versus 1977). The characters are interesting enough, as is the essential theme of questioning fanatical devotion to the cause (whether it be the empire OR the rebellion). But unfortunately, the film betrays that skeptical position by falling into what I like to call the sequential sacrifice trap: throwing main characters, one after the other, onto the altar of--you guessed it--the cause, the larger-than-life thing worth dying (and killing!) for, or so we are meant to believe. I thought/hoped the film would question the idea of giving everything in service to the cause; after all, isn’t that exactly what suicide bombers do? And here we have why this film, so much darker in tone than any of the others, resonates better with audiences today than those used to the campier vibe of the original trilogy.

And plus, the pandering to Hollywood’s second-most-lucrative market (China) is growing distressingly obvious, with not one but two ethnically Chinese (ish) characters/actors, and I can’t say I approve of this even if one of them is one of my favorite directors of all time (Jiang Wen).

7/10

English Scribbler

As a friend and I left the theatre, he said, ‘That was the Star Wars fix I've been waiting for since I was ten’. He meant RO finally took him back to eps IV-VI and I agreed completely. The camerawork and acting aside, this is the closest to Jedi and before than the slow soap opera madness of the prequels or the excellent but very modern epIV. The aged futurism, the dust, the real sets, the 70s Brit moustaches, the raw mechanical nature of the random coloured buttons that don't seem to do anything on people’s chests…

I have big issues with the plot. The sort of issues that would fill up five pages on Reddit and start yet another passionate debate. But that's true of every SW film ever, so let's set those aside. I have BIG issues with the distracting (spoilers for the rest of this paragraph) Cushing fx, making those scenes seem like something from a game not a work of film. Leah was brief enough to (just) work but Tarkin was so central to the plot we had to look at those weird BFG eyes for too long. He should have just appeared later and his overuse early on felt far too ‘Look fans! Look! Tee-hee’.

Vader was great (despite the daft Modor base- if you'd nearly died in lava would you live in a lava mill?!) and the way he was used to link to the next film was pretty good. Despite agreeing on the tone issues mentioned by Zhaoyun here, I must disagree with the idea that two Chinese actors is an issue. There are tonnes of random Brits (hello Daniel Mays!) because it was largely shot here; that's just practicality, and if the desire to connect to more regions through diverse cast is pure business, the result is a joyfully eclectic sea of faces (Riz Ahmed my personal favourite) that better represents a multi-cultural galaxy than the blandness of New Hope. Echoing Brian, Jones however doesn't get to shine here and I wonder what was lost in the reshoots…

The overall feeling I am left with the morning after is a film that worked hard to be reverential in a way that makes more sense than the dubious recalls of Awakens, and yet had a very keen sense of its moral purpose. The story of the rebellion is enjoyably muddied by the complexities shown here (Luna’s behaviour a standout) and the ongoing darkness of the Empire, summed up in Krennic’s poignant “well, you have to start somewhere”(kudos for the accent by the way Mendleson!). I agree entirely with others here that this is a fantasy for our corrupt, violent and rapidly globalising times.