Re-watching The Mandalorian: Insights from a Star Wars Obsession in Uncertain Times
**This post contains spoilers for the first and second seasons of The Mandalorian**
I am not a Star Wars superfan. In fact, though I was born in 1979, my sister and I hadn’t seen the original Star Wars movies until the mid-90s, in high school, when our best friends Scott and Kent realized we had some cinematic deficiencies. They showed us E.T. (Steven Spielberg, 1982), the Star Wars movies, and Star Trek: The Next Generation (Gene Roddenberry, 1987-1994). I had watched the Star Wars prequels and sequels, but I was not obsessed with them, or with anything in the science fiction/fantasy genre, for a long time.
I began watching The Mandalorian (Jon Favreau, 2019-) in the early months of the pandemic in 2020. I quickly realized that re-watching it could serve as an anchor as the pandemic wore on, and the state of the world seemed bleaker with each passing year. As testimony of my obsession, and as justification for watching the show so many damn times (and with series 3 of The Mandalorian [Fig. 1] recently premiering on Disney+ earlier this week), I’ve compiled a list of five loving observations made after hours of viewing and reflecting in a time of crisis:
1. Din is filled with love
Early in Season 1, we know Din (Pedro Pascal) is fiercely loyal to the Mandalorians and his sense of his religion dictates everything he does. We also know quickly that he wants to do the right thing and protect Grogu. By the end of Season 2, we know he loves Grogu unreservedly. What we may not have realized is that Din has shown an enormous capacity for love and compassion from the very start. This is evident in the first Chapter when Din joins forces with IG-11, the bounty droid (voiced by Taika Waititi). I had imagined Din decided to work with IG-11 because he knew he was vastly outnumbered. But when the IG unit takes fire so that Din can get to the door, Din asks him if he is ok as if he were asking a human, a friend. Star Wars has always been so very good at making the most fantastical of robots deserving of love, affection and indeed, admiration.
When I think about it, I view IG-11’s presence in the first season as an indicator of the capacity of Din’s ability to love despite his past trauma. IG-11’s self-sacrifice at the end of the first season is there not just because it is affecting for us; it is there because it deeply impacts Din. IG-11 is rewired to become a “nurse-droid,” and it seems safe to say that this trajectory (what we might view as a metaphor for emotional growth) is one that Din shares. But after watching the show obsessively, I understood that Din was always a care-taker, right from the start.
It just takes several viewings to understand how early the show establishes that Din’s softness and his desire to connect with others are his greatest assets; his bravery is associated with his compassion and openness. It is important to view Star Wars through a perspective that challenges a longing to return to a poisoned version of masculinity that associates strength only with brute force.
2. Season 1, Chapter 5 (“The Prisoner”) is actually one of the best.
If you look at the rankings of all the Chapters on Rotten Tomatoes, “The Prisoner” is close to the bottom. In some ways, this makes sense. Grogu hardly features, and it begins rather abruptly, with the Razorcrest landing on a weird space station we haven’t seen before. I wouldn’t fault someone for disliking his Chapter after one view; however, I would fault them if they did not thoroughly adore it after 50 viewings. But, why is it so very good?
Firstly, each of the strange characters in the crew assembled to liberate the prisoner help better define Din’s character and history. Din’s past actions as a young bounty hunter are gestured to in more specific ways in this Chapter through the antagonistic forces. When Xi-an alludes to a past job and Din’s ruthlessness, she urges Din to tell the others the story. He tersely replies, “I did what I had to,” a reply that tells the viewer nothing and everything. It reminds viewers that Din is merciless and lethal, therefore making his rescue of Grogu all the more notable. His relationship with Xi-an is also illuminating and electric. Played by the excellent Natalia Tena (who was also electric in Game of Thrones [David Benioff & D. B. Weiss, 2011-2019] as the wildling Osha), Xi-an has a predatory but playful dynamic with Din. The idea of Din having a romantic relationship, or at least being teased for having one, is both funny and, to my romantic heart, endearing.
Secondly, Din absolutely slaps in this Chapter. He is at his best, outwitting his opponents as much as he outmuscles them. His ability to understand the layout of the prison ship might strain credulity if you don’t already know that Din finds unique ways to get out of unwinnable situations. If you watch the scene when Din slowly approaches Mayfield [Bill Burr] in the blinking lights, revealed to be moving closer each time the light flashes back on, and you do not get absolutely thrilled, there is no hope for you.
3. Bo Katan didn’t really want the Darksaber
I know, that seems like a radical statement that simply cannot be true. But it is the only conclusion that makes sense after watching the Season 2 finale about 50 times. I should say first that I love this Chapter, but there is a glaring weakness at its centre. Right before Din arrives at the bridge holding Grogu and the Darksaber, we see Bo Katan (Katee Sackoff) standing quietly, with her hands behind her back, LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW! She is star gazing as the key to her future is somewhere else in the cruiser. If she had truly wanted the Darksaber, she would have noted Gideon’s absence from the bridge, scanned within the ship for life forms (as Fennec [Ming-Na Wen] does a little later), located two life forms in the brig and one on its way to the brig. She would have assumed that Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) and the Darksaber were in the brig with Grogu, and raced there to get the weapon from him before Din does. This would have led to a fantastic moment if she arrived just as Din had won the Darksaber from Gideon. Her contemplation of the cosmos may be the one moment in the entire series that defies any explanation. So, I have decided to imagine that despite what she says and does, Bo-Katan does not truly want the responsibility of having the Darksaber. Please note that I have not watched the Clone Wars (George Lucas, 2008-2014; 2020) series on Disney+, so this conclusion is merely my own fabrication, and is likely not supported by any of the Bo-Katan material elsewhere in the entire Star Wars canon.
4. Pedro Pascal deserves an award.
I credit this man for helping me survive the last three years, so can we create an award for actors whose performances are basically a humanitarian effort in a time of crisis? Can there be a Nobel prize for acting? You might retort that Pedro is covered in armour in the entire two seasons, but voice work is still acting. In addition, what we do see of Din’s face is powerful even if it only adds up to about 15 minutes of screen time. Are we forgetting that Dame Judi Dench received a best supporting actress Oscar for her 15 minutes onscreen in Shakespeare in Love (John Madden, 1998).
Good actors are often praised as “chameleons,” people who are almost unrecognizable from role to role. Often this versatility is linked to performances when actors drastically change their physical appearance, gaining or losing a large amount of weight, or donning facial prostheses or elaborate makeup. As far as metaphors go, Pedro is more like a deep well from which can be drawn a wealth of precise micro emotions.
Of course, when Din must say goodbye to Grogu in the Season 2 finale, Pedro masterfully expresses Din’s heartache. Without the helmet, his face reveals a complex combination of conflicting emotions. We can see his attempt to be encouraging to Grogu, his own sadness, and the exquisite tenderness of the feeling of Grogu touching his face. His dialogue in this scene could be removed without draining any of the heart-breaking intensity. His face says everything.
5. My Favourite Moment: Din and Grogu on the speeder (Season 1, Chapter 3 - “The Sin”)
This list must finish with a moment I did not notice on the first 10 viewings, but one that I’ve realized is achingly beautiful. It occurs when Din is trying to flee Navarro with Grogu and is surrounded by bounty hunters. Despite being badly outnumbered, Din holds them back as long as he can. But when his flame-thrower runs out of gas and the blaster fire starts to overwhelm him, Din settles down into the speeder he and Grogu are hiding in and simply looks down at the child. Din’s bond with Grogu becomes almost palpable; as the camera switches between Grogu’s face and Din’s helmet, I can almost hear them communicate. It is a moment of love amidst violence, endurance in the midst of hopelessness.
A curious thing happened after the brilliant Andor (Tony Gilroy, 2022-) began streaming this summer: a discourse emerged on Twitter claiming that Andor was so good, The Mandalorian was bad in retrospect. Andor’s intricate writing, its thoughtful exploration of how political resistance develops on individual and communal levels, makes it a show for our uncertain times in many ways. But I watch and re-watch The Mandalorian because it is a refuge; it nourishes my sense that the good outweighs the bad and the light outweighs the dark, particularly when the odds are stacked against us.
**Article published: March 3, 2023**
Biography
Amy Scott completed her PhD at McGill University (Montreal, Quebec, Canada) in 2010. She writes about Shakespeare, early modern historiography and rituals of mourning. In 2018, she extensively revised and edited Kay Stockholder’s book, Thinking About Shakespeare. Amy Scott currently teaches at Algonquin College (Ontario, Canada).