(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Once a lone bounty hunter, Mandalorian Din Djarin and his apprentice Grogu embark on an exciting new Star Wars adventure.”
Yes, I’m part of the generation that grew up watching Star Wars – the original Star Wars – the Star Wars that was conceived by George Lucas and not the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm under that tragic reign of Kathleen Kennedy – on the silver screen. I think it’s important that I establish that reality right up front because – like it or not – it does feed into my overall impressions of the film along with the current state of the franchise. So if you’re uninterested in what I have to say at this point entirely because of – ahem – the wisdom I’ve gathered over the years, then – in the words of Mark Hamill who came to fame in the guise of Luke Skywalker himself – “Go Force yourself.”
However …
Unlike a great percentage of the fanboy and fangirl regiments who exist and traffic heavily over the Information Superhighway, I can still admit to the fact that some of what’s happened in that galaxy far, far away since Lucas sold the property to “the white slavers” (his words, not mine) has been good-natured fun. Though I absolutely loathed what came to pass in Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens (2015) and Episode IX – The Rise Of Skywalker (2019), I did think that Episode VIII – The Last Jedi minimally possessed a return to theatrical form, meaning that writer/director Rian Johnson grasped an understanding of the visual elements necessary to seriously compete with the likes of what Lucas had achieved before. Now, his story was thematically all wrong for the universe; and his take on the characters was about as ill-founded as it could’ve been. But at the very least, Star Wars – for a brief time – felt like a carnival thrill ride again even though the twists and turns lacked the proper Midichlorian Count to make for the spectacle that Luke Skywalker’s return to the silver screen should’ve had.
Similarly, when The Mandalorian first premiere (behind a pay wall) on Disney+ (the MouseHouse’s vastly overrated streaming service), I was glad to see some modest signs of life with the franchise. Granted, some of these signs were fleeting and – ahem – surprisingly short-lived; but Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni had marginally come up with an idea which almost felt like I was being transported once more to the Outer Rim territories. Yes, the show chiefly relied on ratcheting up the viewership’s fondness for the Original Trilogy what with the endless array of costumes, props, and locations that helped to call up the proper wave of nostalgia; but that’s exactly the kind of sins in entertainment which are forgivable. “If you build it, people will come,” and I personally thought that – while the Mando show was still largely imperfect – it was an at-times impressive sideshow worth its ticket price.
Like so many, I was hugely disappointed when the show morphed into something akin to Bantha poodoo in its third season, an unmitigated disaster of cosmic proportions. Every bit of goodwill that Favreau and Filoni had earned from a discerning audience was – pardon the expression – absolutely shit on by the two as they delivered something that practically unraveled the substance that compelled us to invest in the show in the first place. Gone was the heroic male lead; in its place, the creators shoehorned the predictable girl boss whose influence even threatened to steal young Grogu’s attentions right out from under his surrogate father. Heck, Mando never even seemed like the star of the show any longer (Filoni even suggested he was no longer ‘The Mandalorian’ of the title); and the audience was deluged with bloated mythology filler that sidelined narrative cohesion over pretty visuals. And … actors Jack Black and Lizzo as royal guest stars in some cartoon world?
What were they thinking?
Well …
It would seem ‘the lack of thinking’ has become the norm as Filoni and Favreau have now pushed their spectacular failure onto the silver screen as The Mandalorian And Grogu has undergone only a name change in the transition from streaming to the cineplex. To their credit, the two kinda/sorta dumbed it all down even further (if that were possible) by kinda/sorta resetting their world in what’s meant to be a standalone adventure introducing their dynamic duo to what they hope will be a growing audience. It’s all rather small scale – with no galactic stakes whatsoever – and it sadly goes nowhere that this once beloved franchise has been before, making it about as clinically safe and equally uninteresting motion picture turned out since Walt Disney took over stewardship of the galaxy.
With the Rebel Alliance’s victory at Endor (seen in 1983’s Return Of The Jedi), the Galactic Empire has fallen into some disarray. Instead of maintaining some central grasp of control over the various star systems, rogue Imperial warlords have stepped in – as dictators, chiefly – to continue the royal policy to protect and serve, all at a cost. In the Outer Rim territories, the New Republic tasks Colonel Ward (played by Sigourney Weaver) to see all of these nefarious evildoers taken down; and she’s conscripted The Mandalorian (voiced by Pedro Pascal) and his Force-sensitive sidekick Grogu to bring ‘em back alive (if at all possible). In fact, the flick opens with a particularly good set-up as Mando (again, only voiced by Pascal) and his ‘Baby Yoda’ taking down a particularly vile Imperial baddie over the course of several stunt sequences that – taken independently – sense of a return to the old-style motion picture Flash Gordon serial format once championed by Lucas. (Granted, it makes zero sense why or how anyone conceived of using massive Imperial walkers to scale a mountain with a frozen tundra – for logic’s sake – but who are we to quibble? Isn’t this meant to be fun?)
Sadly, the film kinda/sorta falls apart shortly thereafter. The colonel has set her sights on a new target – Commander Coyne (played by Jonny Coyne) is so wanted and notorious she can’t even provide a location much less a picture (???) – and she sends our glorious twosome off on a quest to rescue Rotta the Hutt (voiced curiously by Jeremy Allen White with absolutely zero inflection whatsoever) and deliver the oversized worm back to his equally oversized worms of an aunt and an uncle. If this sounds a bit convoluted then rest assured it is: the Hutt twins know the ‘secret’ location of Coyne, and they’re willing to give it up with the return of their nephew. The truth here is that they secretly wish to kill Rotta so that they can take control of his father Jabba’s criminal enterprise now that he’s been taken out of play by the Rebel Alliance.
Well – ahem – the problem herein is that Jabba the Hutt’s criminal enterprise was already taken over by Boba Fett as seen in the oft-maligned Disney+ streaming series, The Book Of Boba Fett, a few years ago. How is it that the Hutt twins are entirely unaware? Even more damning, how is it that Filoni and Favreau – the two masterminds behind all of this at Lucasfilm – are equally unaware? Are they ignoring their own established continuity here, or are they relying on the ignorance of newcomers to simply ask no questions? Perhaps all that the Hutts desired was a chance to move in on Fett and his minions, and maybe they felt it would be prudent to remove Rotta from the playing field? But … hasn’t Rotta already removed himself from the playing field by running away and renouncing his – erm – Huttship? There’s no escaping this massive plot-hole anywhere in this two-hour-plus movie, and that’s really only the beginning of its shoddy foundation.
Given the fact that Grogu has already been established as a Force-user, Filoni and Favreau rather conveniently ignore the use of the critter’s powers throughout the picture. When a simple Force-push could’ve resolved a rather elementary problem, the screenwriters instead have Grogu scaling a wall, crawling through a window, and sneaking through a veritable lion’s den to open a door so that Mando can gain entrance to a facility. How is it that this big guy – one of the most venerable bounty hunters in all the galaxy – ever got by without the existence of his cute and cuddly companion … especially if he can’t even open a locked door without assistance? The vigilante’s reputation would easily be questioned by viewers just stumbling into the theater for this premiere adventure; and they’d likely leave wondering how it was that the grown man insisted on taking a proverbial infant into one mortally dangerous situation after another. Does the man have no decency? And just who granted him custody? Surely, there must’ve been someone more paternal available.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t; and The Mandalorian And Grogu evolves to the point wherein the most dangerous man in the universe captured by a competing bounty hunter once the Hutt Twins realize they’ve been duped. With his mortal life in jeopardy, Mando is forced to endure a bit of wholesome torture – and near digestion by a massive dragonsnake elsewhere in the galaxy – while young Grogu joins forces with a puppety clan of mechanics to attempt his father’s rescue. Not since the days of Gerry Anderson and his 1960’s cult adventure classic Thunderbirds has the silver screen been lit up with so many lifeless marionettes stuttering and puttering their way through oversized set constructs. And to think: I was maligned by my fraternity brothers for even knowing that the Thunderbirds existed much less came to life (well …) in SuperMarionation. (Google it: I’ll wait.)
As long as I’m going back in time, let me also mention that 1970’s evening television was in its absolute heyday with producers being able to cast some once marquee names in guest appearances in the latest whodunnits. These former stars and starlets were never asked to do much more than show up, deliver a few lines, and use the breadth of their celebrity to add a bit of clout to festivities. Largely, that’s what Sigourney Weaver does here, her presence never amounting to more gravitas than if she read lines off of cue cards being held by some intern just off-camera. Frankly, I’ve eaten oatmeal with more flavor; and the same could be said for Pascal’s stupefyingly dull line-reading on Mando’s behalf even during the heat of conflict. Practically no one in the Mando movie possesses a sense of urgency; and – so far as I know – that’s a requirement to making even bad schlock like this work.
Now, I’ll stop short of stating categorically that the Force is no longer with us. After all, we’ll always have the Original Trilogy; and that Prequel Trilogy – the one that’s endured its own highs and lows – is looking vastly superior to anything that Disney has even attempted to assembly on its own. I didn’t hate Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), and Rogue One (2016) works well to fill a gap no one knew needing filling in the days leading up to A New Hope. There were also bits and pieces of Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars: The Bad Batch which I found interesting. Star Wars Rebels – as much as others enjoy it – just never worked for me; and even though the Kenobi series never really had a chance it still had a familiar face that got me through my grief. Don’t get me started on just how painful Ahsoka’s first season played out, or you’ll have me tearing the ears off a gundark.
But if The Mandalorian And Grogu is meant to represent a path forward for the galaxy far, far away, then the Mouse House and Lucasfilm and anyone else involved in it are going to have to get accustomed to doing it at a creative and profitable loss.
This, most certainly, is not the way.
Alas ... only Mildly Recommended ... and even then with severe hesitation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m thrilled to disclose that I’m beholden to absolutely no one for my review of Star Wars: The Mandalorian And Grogu (2026) as I viewed the picture entirely on my own dime at the theater.
-- EZ
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Once a lone bounty hunter, Mandalorian Din Djarin and his apprentice Grogu embark on an exciting new Star Wars adventure.”
Yes, I’m part of the generation that grew up watching Star Wars – the original Star Wars – the Star Wars that was conceived by George Lucas and not the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm under that tragic reign of Kathleen Kennedy – on the silver screen. I think it’s important that I establish that reality right up front because – like it or not – it does feed into my overall impressions of the film along with the current state of the franchise. So if you’re uninterested in what I have to say at this point entirely because of – ahem – the wisdom I’ve gathered over the years, then – in the words of Mark Hamill who came to fame in the guise of Luke Skywalker himself – “Go Force yourself.”
However …
Unlike a great percentage of the fanboy and fangirl regiments who exist and traffic heavily over the Information Superhighway, I can still admit to the fact that some of what’s happened in that galaxy far, far away since Lucas sold the property to “the white slavers” (his words, not mine) has been good-natured fun. Though I absolutely loathed what came to pass in Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens (2015) and Episode IX – The Rise Of Skywalker (2019), I did think that Episode VIII – The Last Jedi minimally possessed a return to theatrical form, meaning that writer/director Rian Johnson grasped an understanding of the visual elements necessary to seriously compete with the likes of what Lucas had achieved before. Now, his story was thematically all wrong for the universe; and his take on the characters was about as ill-founded as it could’ve been. But at the very least, Star Wars – for a brief time – felt like a carnival thrill ride again even though the twists and turns lacked the proper Midichlorian Count to make for the spectacle that Luke Skywalker’s return to the silver screen should’ve had.
Similarly, when The Mandalorian first premiere (behind a pay wall) on Disney+ (the MouseHouse’s vastly overrated streaming service), I was glad to see some modest signs of life with the franchise. Granted, some of these signs were fleeting and – ahem – surprisingly short-lived; but Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni had marginally come up with an idea which almost felt like I was being transported once more to the Outer Rim territories. Yes, the show chiefly relied on ratcheting up the viewership’s fondness for the Original Trilogy what with the endless array of costumes, props, and locations that helped to call up the proper wave of nostalgia; but that’s exactly the kind of sins in entertainment which are forgivable. “If you build it, people will come,” and I personally thought that – while the Mando show was still largely imperfect – it was an at-times impressive sideshow worth its ticket price.
Like so many, I was hugely disappointed when the show morphed into something akin to Bantha poodoo in its third season, an unmitigated disaster of cosmic proportions. Every bit of goodwill that Favreau and Filoni had earned from a discerning audience was – pardon the expression – absolutely shit on by the two as they delivered something that practically unraveled the substance that compelled us to invest in the show in the first place. Gone was the heroic male lead; in its place, the creators shoehorned the predictable girl boss whose influence even threatened to steal young Grogu’s attentions right out from under his surrogate father. Heck, Mando never even seemed like the star of the show any longer (Filoni even suggested he was no longer ‘The Mandalorian’ of the title); and the audience was deluged with bloated mythology filler that sidelined narrative cohesion over pretty visuals. And … actors Jack Black and Lizzo as royal guest stars in some cartoon world?
What were they thinking?
Well …
It would seem ‘the lack of thinking’ has become the norm as Filoni and Favreau have now pushed their spectacular failure onto the silver screen as The Mandalorian And Grogu has undergone only a name change in the transition from streaming to the cineplex. To their credit, the two kinda/sorta dumbed it all down even further (if that were possible) by kinda/sorta resetting their world in what’s meant to be a standalone adventure introducing their dynamic duo to what they hope will be a growing audience. It’s all rather small scale – with no galactic stakes whatsoever – and it sadly goes nowhere that this once beloved franchise has been before, making it about as clinically safe and equally uninteresting motion picture turned out since Walt Disney took over stewardship of the galaxy.
With the Rebel Alliance’s victory at Endor (seen in 1983’s Return Of The Jedi), the Galactic Empire has fallen into some disarray. Instead of maintaining some central grasp of control over the various star systems, rogue Imperial warlords have stepped in – as dictators, chiefly – to continue the royal policy to protect and serve, all at a cost. In the Outer Rim territories, the New Republic tasks Colonel Ward (played by Sigourney Weaver) to see all of these nefarious evildoers taken down; and she’s conscripted The Mandalorian (voiced by Pedro Pascal) and his Force-sensitive sidekick Grogu to bring ‘em back alive (if at all possible). In fact, the flick opens with a particularly good set-up as Mando (again, only voiced by Pascal) and his ‘Baby Yoda’ taking down a particularly vile Imperial baddie over the course of several stunt sequences that – taken independently – sense of a return to the old-style motion picture Flash Gordon serial format once championed by Lucas. (Granted, it makes zero sense why or how anyone conceived of using massive Imperial walkers to scale a mountain with a frozen tundra – for logic’s sake – but who are we to quibble? Isn’t this meant to be fun?)
Sadly, the film kinda/sorta falls apart shortly thereafter. The colonel has set her sights on a new target – Commander Coyne (played by Jonny Coyne) is so wanted and notorious she can’t even provide a location much less a picture (???) – and she sends our glorious twosome off on a quest to rescue Rotta the Hutt (voiced curiously by Jeremy Allen White with absolutely zero inflection whatsoever) and deliver the oversized worm back to his equally oversized worms of an aunt and an uncle. If this sounds a bit convoluted then rest assured it is: the Hutt twins know the ‘secret’ location of Coyne, and they’re willing to give it up with the return of their nephew. The truth here is that they secretly wish to kill Rotta so that they can take control of his father Jabba’s criminal enterprise now that he’s been taken out of play by the Rebel Alliance.
Well – ahem – the problem herein is that Jabba the Hutt’s criminal enterprise was already taken over by Boba Fett as seen in the oft-maligned Disney+ streaming series, The Book Of Boba Fett, a few years ago. How is it that the Hutt twins are entirely unaware? Even more damning, how is it that Filoni and Favreau – the two masterminds behind all of this at Lucasfilm – are equally unaware? Are they ignoring their own established continuity here, or are they relying on the ignorance of newcomers to simply ask no questions? Perhaps all that the Hutts desired was a chance to move in on Fett and his minions, and maybe they felt it would be prudent to remove Rotta from the playing field? But … hasn’t Rotta already removed himself from the playing field by running away and renouncing his – erm – Huttship? There’s no escaping this massive plot-hole anywhere in this two-hour-plus movie, and that’s really only the beginning of its shoddy foundation.
Given the fact that Grogu has already been established as a Force-user, Filoni and Favreau rather conveniently ignore the use of the critter’s powers throughout the picture. When a simple Force-push could’ve resolved a rather elementary problem, the screenwriters instead have Grogu scaling a wall, crawling through a window, and sneaking through a veritable lion’s den to open a door so that Mando can gain entrance to a facility. How is it that this big guy – one of the most venerable bounty hunters in all the galaxy – ever got by without the existence of his cute and cuddly companion … especially if he can’t even open a locked door without assistance? The vigilante’s reputation would easily be questioned by viewers just stumbling into the theater for this premiere adventure; and they’d likely leave wondering how it was that the grown man insisted on taking a proverbial infant into one mortally dangerous situation after another. Does the man have no decency? And just who granted him custody? Surely, there must’ve been someone more paternal available.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t; and The Mandalorian And Grogu evolves to the point wherein the most dangerous man in the universe captured by a competing bounty hunter once the Hutt Twins realize they’ve been duped. With his mortal life in jeopardy, Mando is forced to endure a bit of wholesome torture – and near digestion by a massive dragonsnake elsewhere in the galaxy – while young Grogu joins forces with a puppety clan of mechanics to attempt his father’s rescue. Not since the days of Gerry Anderson and his 1960’s cult adventure classic Thunderbirds has the silver screen been lit up with so many lifeless marionettes stuttering and puttering their way through oversized set constructs. And to think: I was maligned by my fraternity brothers for even knowing that the Thunderbirds existed much less came to life (well …) in SuperMarionation. (Google it: I’ll wait.)
As long as I’m going back in time, let me also mention that 1970’s evening television was in its absolute heyday with producers being able to cast some once marquee names in guest appearances in the latest whodunnits. These former stars and starlets were never asked to do much more than show up, deliver a few lines, and use the breadth of their celebrity to add a bit of clout to festivities. Largely, that’s what Sigourney Weaver does here, her presence never amounting to more gravitas than if she read lines off of cue cards being held by some intern just off-camera. Frankly, I’ve eaten oatmeal with more flavor; and the same could be said for Pascal’s stupefyingly dull line-reading on Mando’s behalf even during the heat of conflict. Practically no one in the Mando movie possesses a sense of urgency; and – so far as I know – that’s a requirement to making even bad schlock like this work.
Now, I’ll stop short of stating categorically that the Force is no longer with us. After all, we’ll always have the Original Trilogy; and that Prequel Trilogy – the one that’s endured its own highs and lows – is looking vastly superior to anything that Disney has even attempted to assembly on its own. I didn’t hate Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), and Rogue One (2016) works well to fill a gap no one knew needing filling in the days leading up to A New Hope. There were also bits and pieces of Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars: The Bad Batch which I found interesting. Star Wars Rebels – as much as others enjoy it – just never worked for me; and even though the Kenobi series never really had a chance it still had a familiar face that got me through my grief. Don’t get me started on just how painful Ahsoka’s first season played out, or you’ll have me tearing the ears off a gundark.
But if The Mandalorian And Grogu is meant to represent a path forward for the galaxy far, far away, then the Mouse House and Lucasfilm and anyone else involved in it are going to have to get accustomed to doing it at a creative and profitable loss.
This, most certainly, is not the way.
Alas ... only Mildly Recommended ... and even then with severe hesitation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m thrilled to disclose that I’m beholden to absolutely no one for my review of Star Wars: The Mandalorian And Grogu (2026) as I viewed the picture entirely on my own dime at the theater.
-- EZ
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