Score: 4.5 / 5
The Mandalorian and Grogu is a magnificent Star Wars film. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Sure, there are no lightsabers, no large battlefields, and no overt connection to any previous films in the franchise. Sure, it's arguably the culmination of the so-called Mandoverse of streaming series (can we even call it television?) thus far. And sure, we follow a character whose face is almost never seen and his puppet sidekick in an endless parade of abundant CGI settings. But it's also a highly entertaining adventure, rife with riotous comedy (something SW is at its best, though rarely emphasized in its films) and weird sci-fi-isms, and a completely standalone pleasure to behold. You don't really need to know much lore to love this movie, and that's a rare thing these days. So if you want to know what I think, know that I loved this film and have now seen it several times.
But now, we plunge into nerd-dom, and I make no apologies for it. Proceed at risk of your own coolness.
Opening with excellent text for exposition, the film has the thankless task -- like its non-"episode" predecessors -- of bringing that SW sensation right off the bat. And it does! Between Ludwig Goransson's iconic score, here reorchestrated in multiple ways to feature more subtle sounds and prove flexible in liberal application to the runtime, and and some eye-popping visuals in its opening scene, this film grabs your attention, then earns it, then forces you to respect it. All before the title card and opening credits (yes, sadly, we do get opening credits here, for the first time in a SW film). While I wanted more context and story about the imperial remnant, it just wouldn't have been appropriate to introduce them in an otherwise independent film like this; really, they should be the focus of the next season of the show, if we get one.
So instead of learning about all the imperial (perhaps ex-imperial?) warlords roaming free, we zoom in on one who seems to have set up his base in a snowy mountain range on Maldo Kreis (one of two brand-new planets featured, along with Shakari, which seems to be an homage to something between Gotham City and Jazz Age Chicago). He's squeezing the locals for more than they can bleed until alarms start blaring. It sounds like an army is approaching quickly within the fortress itself. So when Mando, armor shining like a knight's, struts his way in amidst torrents from his wrist-mounted flamethrowers, you don't need to know about the three seasons of The Mandalorian or The Book of Boba Fett to know he's the baddest bitch in town.
He takes out his enemies one by one, methodically stepping through impossible odds -- "never tell me the odds!" says another swashbuckler in this IP -- with surety, confidence, and grace. Apparently two different performers play the on-set physical manifestation of Mando, and their physicality determines our buying the core of believability and relatability in this film. They slay. Almost immediately after his indoor victory, Mando has to hurry outside to catch up with the Imp, chasing him down on a narrow mountain pass. The Imp is hiding in one of three AT-ATs, fearsome transports that Mando eliminates with something that resembles satisfaction, if not ease. But by this point, he's been joined by Grogu, his apprentice and adopted son, the puppet so long known as Baby Yoda due to his species remaining a mystery and rarity.
The wee one's screen presence has arguably never been better, and that's really saying something. Each shot with the puppet is picture-perfect, so clearly calculated for maximum cuteness that it's a small miracle the rest of the film holds up. I haven't made so many noises in a theater in years, and by noises I mean shrieks, cries, whines, moans, sniggers, chuckles, cackles, sobs, chortles, whimpers, and yells. He just brings it out of you. Actually, he's not dissimilar in that way, for me, to Scrat, the squirrel from Ice Age, whose mere name has me breaking out in a goofy grin. Grogu is always moving, often lowkey scary (he implodes a mouse droid in his first onscreen moment), and hilariously eager to help. What can a nonverbal, foot-tall li'l guy do when danger approaches? Well, perched on Mando's shoulder as he is, Grogu knocks rapidly on the back of Mando's helmet. But the visual -- and the speed -- elicits a screech from my vocal cords every time.
Thankfully, the two leads basically split the film's runtime as well as its narrative, which only seems fair given he titular double billing. The first half of the plot concerns a mission the pair are assigned by Colonel Ward (Sigourney Weaver in an underused but welcome appearance): to find and capture Commander Coin, the most elusive and mysterious remaining warlord. The Hutt Twins (featured in The Book of Boba Fett and introduced as the successors to Jabba's throne) have information they're willing to sell the New Republic in exchange for a mission of their own. As these things go, they task Mando to find and return Rotta the Hutt, Jabba's son (last seen as a wee slugy babe in The Clone Wars), ostensibly to free him from a captor but , secretly, really to kill him and eliminate any threat to their rule.
Much of the first half, then belongs to Mando as he sleuths his way through Nal Hutta and Shakari to find Rotta. But Rotta, he learns soon enough, has no intention of going because he's a star. A self-made man who has escaped the shadow of his late father and made a legitimate name for himself as a gladiator-style warrior. He's a surprisingly insightful character, and an articulate one, and Jeremy Allen White's dulcet tones are a bit jarring heard from a hunk of a giant green blob before settling into an affected sonorous purr. He exemplifies the theme of complicated fathers and sons (a big SW theme, of course) that has been plaguing Mando and Grogu for so long now. And just when you think it couldn't get any more interesting or surprising, we, too, get thrown into a game.
It's dejarik. Yes, that dejarik. The claymation sci-fi chess game we saw in the original film, which now we can only assume is the kid-friendly version of what is really a gladiatorial battle to the gory death. The rich criminals of this part of the galaxy -- run by local crime lord Janu -- pay big bucks to import deadly exotic monsters and thugs (oops, excuse, I meant animals and prisoners) and watch them slaughter each other in a truly brutal mess. And the crowds are eating it up. It's so easy to get on our moral high-horse in moments like this, but think on it: the masses of Geonosians cheering on the spies' demise in ep2, the decadent and wicked gamblers in ep8, the general "scum and villainy" (ep4) of the galaxy are most of the populace in a time of fighting against fascism. And watching these ones cheer on a vicious melee would be disturbing if it wasn't a dream come true for those of us who grew up wondering about those dejarik beasts on that holotable in the Millennium Falcon all those years ago.
This half of the plot gets wrapped up rather easily -- spoiler alert, but Janu is Coin, so once Rotta spills them beans, Mando's job is basically done. Well, there's a chase and a raid to be had yet, and those are thrilling action sequences laced with pitch-perfect comedy. The mystery dissipates too fast in that convenient double identity, so what's left is extraction. But's is all a muscly, nerdy fun series of set pieces that never lets up its sense of awe and pleasure in itself. That's the best kind of franchise film: one that just enjoys itself for what it is, on its own. Rather like Rotta, actually.
The second half of the film is quite tonally different. If we didn't know that director and co-writer Jon Favreau wrote this film as a film, I'd swear it was two slightly expanded episodes of the show. Maybe he means it to feel that way. Embo (a mysterious bounty hunter seen in The Clone Wars) and his frightening pet dog (or perhaps partner?) catch and grab Mando to take him to the Twins for satisfaction on their deal. This leaves Grogu with a team of Anzellans (the cutest, most darling and equally noise-provoking little puppet aliens who speak in a heavily accented pidgin) to follow and rescue Mando from the Twins' stronghold. They do, and the story leans into rather thick sentiment when, once rescued, a wounded Mando must be attended by Grogu as his nursemaid, stuck as they are in the swamps of Nal Hutta with no available ship to flee.
I must confess that, the first time I saw this film, I must have gotten some fatigue from pure joy, because it has only been in more recent viewings that I've found new things to laugh at and tear up about in the second half. It slows its pace, to be sure, even in its more action-y scenes, but now I feel it's a nice offbeat vibe to the film that fits its spacefaring gunslinging Western hero's genre-bending essence. And while I always want more SW stories about non-Jedi, this film's use of Grogu's connection to the Force is mercifully restrained, often to the point of only being used for comedy and expediency, which is better. And right around the time I was feeling ready to wrap it all up -- in a contented way more than in a distracted way -- we get a climactic sky battle with a squadron of X-wings bombing the shit out of the Twins' stronghold. Oh, and did I mention that this film features the Droid Gotra as the Hutt security team? We've gotten so little information about the Gotra, and I just love learning more about the various businesses and organizations and syndicates in the galaxy far, far away. The more, the merrier.
But this battle enraptured me right in time for a swift ending. It's exactly the uplift needed after a slightly more burdened second act, which is curiously the exact problem faced by Broadway musicals (is it a problem, though?). We even get Sigourney Weaver in one of those orange and white flight suits, which is a vision I'm thrilled to see. While I perhaps expected too much of this movie -- thinking, logically, that this would be time for a big character appearance or name drop or plot twist to launch us into the next season of Ahsoka and Dave Filoni's impending film climax to the series (it's all about Thrawn, which we simply do not have time to discuss here) -- I am now grateful that it resolutely and firmly does not make any overt connections to its own series. Sure, it connects characters, places, themes, and references from all eras of SW, and that's amazing and so satisfying for fans. But you don't even need to have seen all of the live-action series to thoroughly enjoy this film, and that's exactly what a franchise film needs to be if we're going to survive burnout. Look at what happened with the MCU (which so few of us keep up with anymore).
The Mandalorian and Grogu is how we keep this franchise alive and fresh.
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