Academy Award-nominated writer/director Tony Gilroy (“Michael Clayton”) rejects the premise that prequels are, or at least can be, fundamentally uneventful because we know the outcome and inevitability of that character’s fate. And while Gilroy is generally wrong— insofar the number of great prequels can be counted on one hand— the “Rogue One” filmmaker has proven without a shadow of a doubt he has cracked the code with his magnificent “Andor”/” Star Wars” spin-off series that comes to an end after two season and 24 gripping episodes.
A terrifically patient and orchestrally epic build and evolution about the story of a self-interested survivor and thief who was radicalized into believing in a cause and fighting against the Empire, “Andor,” along with “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story”—the film Gilroy was hired to salvage and did so and then some—we know that Cassian Andor (Diego Luna) died in ‘Rogue One,’ sacrificing his life so the stolen Death Star plans could be fall into the hands of the Rebel Alliance and defeat the Imperials in “Star Wars: A New Hope.” However, the fact that the audience already knows Cassian’s fate is meaningless. Gilroy’s show is so gripping, so dramatically visceral, so suspenseful, the story of a man who grew into a dissident, leader and courageous fighter against the galactic tyranny is rousingly engrossing and masterful.
It’s also because Gilroy innately understands that personal stakes told with searing conviction are just as devastating, heartbreaking, piercing, and powerful as anything an end-of-the-world blockbuster can muster. It’s an intelligent, substantive, melodrama-free show, and “Andor” is also easily the best piece of cinematic storytelling Lucasfilm has produced since Disney bought the company.
READ MORE: ‘Andor’: Tony Gilroy Teases More Romance, Season 2 Guests, Additional ‘Rogue One’ Characters & More [Interview]
To that end, especially given how hacky most “Star Wars” television is these days (sorry, true), it’s still mindboggling that Disney allowed such subtle, nuanced and rich character drama to exist at this level (the budget is rumored to be astronomical, and given all the lavish sets, costumes and practical builds, the gorgeous craft doesn’t look cheap).
Different in intent and scope than “Andor” season one which was set five years before the events of ‘Rogue One,’ season two is broken up into four chapters of three episodes, each representing one year a matter of days or hours in the ensuing years before Cassian’s fate. If season one was the story of Cassian Andor evolving from self-interested grifter to the man who will eventually devote his life to a cause much greater than himself, season two finds him stepping into this leadership role, but with enough conflicts with his superiors to suggest Cassian is still his own man. This second chapter is also the story of how the Rebel Alliance was built, but never from a historical, “this is a key moment” point of view, which Gilroy and his writers refuse to engage in with great discipline. “Andor” is more interested in its characters than a” Star Wars” history lesson, or even thrilling entertainment, so the narrative always focuses on the collective price these rebels face in their struggle to fight oppression and the cost is always high, often heart-wrenching, occasionally merciless out of grim necessity, especially in the case of Luthen, and punishing.
To that end, it’s shocking how few to zero notes this series received (the death of one central character is about as. Suppose there’s a positive legacy Lucasfilm chief Kathleen Kennedy might be known for when her embattled tenure finally ends. In that case, it just might be impressive to think she basically let Gilroy and co. have carte blanche to tell the story they wanted to tell. “Andor” season two is counter-intuitively bold. It’s not gigantic and thrilling in a manner you might expect, but it is audacious in just how mannered, nuanced, and smaller-scale the narrative is without sacrificing engagement.
The show always manages to surprise, too. Given that none of these characters appear in ‘A New Hope’ or the subsequent sagas, it would’ve been easy to presume that none of these major characters would survive, explaining their absence in the succeeding movies. Instead, the survival rate of key characters is unexpectedly high, leaving much room for additional stories to be told should anybody choose to do so.
Time jumps in the series are elegant, leaving out key historical scenes some other filmmaker might feel obliged to include—as in when Luthen and the Rebel Alliance part ways— but in manner that the audience is smart enough to intuit themselves (aka their methods weren’t on the same page, and more true to life, it’s often never one just moment or thing that defines a breakup).
Gilroy and his writers, Beau Willimon, Dan Gilroy, and Tom Bissell, delicately pull from history whenever they can: there’s essentially a Frech resistance subplot, and the use of propaganda and lies, ala Joseph Goebbels, to justify atrocities (think the deceptions of the Bay of Tonkin in the Vietnam war), among many other historical influences including Rebel faction infighting.
Meanwhile, the cast is uniformly outstanding. Kyle Soller as Syril Karn and Denise Gough as Dedra Meero are definitely breakout stars on the rise who will surely be competing for all the hot new roles, no doubt. But the bench of supporting players is super deep and rich. Stellan Skarsgård as Luthen Rael and Genevieve O’Reilly as Mon Mothma are obviously incredible, as they were last season, but Mon Mothma gets an arc that’s wrenchingly chewy for O’Reilly.
Elizabeth Dulau as Kleya Marki, Luthen’s antiques store assistant // rebel protégé, is another tremendous breakout, and some of the later season episodes with Kleya and her ruthless surrogate father figure are shattering. Rebel lieutenant Faye Marsay as Vel Sartha is also someone you will likely see much more of when this show is over.
One of the secret secondary MVPs of season two is Adria Arjona as the mechanic turned rebel and Cassian’s lover. Much of season two is about relationships, life during wartime, and how to maintain a relationship during hellish times. Bix’s storyline with Cassian is essentially a romance, but a wrenchingly broken and dysfunctional one. The two are deeply in love, but Bix struggles with the demons of her torture from season one, and circumstances are constantly pulling them apart.
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Like season one that introduced a brothel into “Star Wars” for the first time, “Andor” has a lot of firsts too: an attempted rape, an ecstasy-driven rave, and a brutal slaughter. “Andor” has its ‘Rogue One’ supporting roles and cameos—the always magnificent Ben Mendelsohn as the maliciously ambitious Imperial director Orson Krennic—but aside from Alan Tudyk voicing the droid K-2SO and appearances by members of the Rebel council, any ‘Rogue’ appearances are by and large, small, gracefully handled and organically presented (there’s one significant piece of recasting that will disappoint fans however, but the replacement is at least super solid).
If there are quibbles, much of it centers around not enough time for some of the characters, and you’d need at least one more season to allow them more time to shine. An arc around Mon Mothma and one involving Bix means there’s less time for Luthen, or his counterpart in the terrorist Saw Gerrera (Forest Whitaker; and if anyone is looking to create another spin-off from this series, the stories of Luthen and Saw being the too-radical version of the Alliance are definitely it).
While the series budget was reportedly equal to last season, Gilroy has already said that some of season two had to be reconceived and rewritten when the filmmakers were told they could not receive more funds for something more ambitious. In this regard, those looking for a bigger, bolder, more set-piece-driven series will likely be disappointed, but the filmmakers make the most of their limitations. The action set pieces included, including one set around the infamous Ghorman massacre that is legendary around “Star Wars,” are brutally intense.
The lack of Oscar-winning composer Nicholas Britell (“Moonlight”) is a shame, too (he was replaced in season two by Brandon Roberts due to a family matter), as his symphonic majesty always matched the moral righteousness of Gilroy and the team’s writing. Still, none of these elements can dull the “Andor” edge.
Yes, it’s not as enormous in scale as you might expect, but its scope is still grand, scorching, and just as colossal in trenchant emotional and psychological weight.
Ultimately, “Andor” is a tragedy, a story about those early forerunners who paved the way for others to defeat the Imperial regime and sacrificed everything, even if the cost wasn’t always their lives. Still, it’s a tragedy, but one not devoid of hope, and the filmmakers are sharp enough to craft something bruising and painful and yet stirring in its call to arms and poignantly observant testament about the power of collective resistance to combat fascism. When “Andor” reaches its inspiring conclusion, the viewer is rewarded with something symphonic, breathtaking, and awe-inspiring. Not in its size or brawn, but in its faith in people and humanity, rising to meet the moment in the darkest of times. [A]