How the Mandalorian Helped Me Love Star Wars Again

*** WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 EPISODE 8 ***

I've written before about how Star Wars has been a major factor in my life. It's not a stretch to say that I've pretty much been a fan of the series for my entire life. That fandom burned bright during the time of the Original Trilogy, it maintained it's glow during the drought of the late 80s and early 90s, and it even endured the Prequel Trilogy. However, over the past few years, my love of the franchise had begun to wane due almost entirely to the regrettable Sequel Trilogy. To say that I've had mixed feelings about what Disney had produced regarding the Star Wars franchise would be an understatement. While I loved Rogue One and Solo, I never took to the new Trilogy the way I'd hoped I would.

Now, it's here that I have to reign myself in a bit. When I started this blog, I did so with the intention to write about things that I love, things that give me joy. Personally, I don't think it's worth it to waste time railing against things that I hate, so I won't go into great detail here about why I dislike the Sequel Trilogy. In a nutshell, I just felt that the makers of that trio of films had only a surface-level knowledge of the universe the films were set in and fundamentally misunderstood the old characters while creating shallow and uninteresting new characters. It just felt that Disney took something that I loved and tried to squeeze it for every drop of money it could. 

As a result, my interest in Star Wars has waned considerably over the past 4 or 5 years, and when news of the supposed first live-action television show set in the Star Wars universe leaked, I wasn't terribly excited. I'd heard that John Favreau was helming the project, which piqued my interest somewhat, as I loved what he did to launch the MCU, but I was still uncertain. Some months later, I managed to catch an early trailer of the show, and I thought to myself, "Okay, maybe this could turn into something." I was still skeptical because this is still the same company that I was convinced had ruined the franchise in the first place. Still, hope remained.

When the first season of the show launched, I was pleasantly surprised, and it ignited my interest in Star Wars again. It wasn't enough to bring me back fully. Still, it was enough to make me dive back into Timothy Zaun's Thrawn Trilogy of novels, which eventually led to me binging the Star Wars: Rebels TV series in the span of a few weeks in preparation for the upcoming second season of The Mandalorian. 

It was the second season that fully brought me back into the fold. It reminded me of not only how awesome the franchise can be when its creators stop tripping over themselves to "try something new" and just let the universe and the characters do all of the heavy lifting. I tend to look at Star Wars movies in the same way as I would a good Western (it's probably because Westerns were a major influence on the films). They're essentially morality plays. It's clear that Favreau and Dave Filoni took this same approach to The Mandalorian because you can see those sensibilities all over the show. While Season 2 as a whole brought me back to Star Wars, it was the final episode of that season, particularly the closing 15 minutes or so, that will keep me there. 

I was glued to my seat during the majority of the episode as Din Djarin and company fight through Moff Gideon's cruiser to rescue baby Grogu, but it was those last few minutes that just...brought something back that I thought I'd lost. I wasn't expecting it (sure, maybe somewhere deep down I'd hoped for it), but when that X-Wing docked with the cruiser, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. I thought, "No, this is just a misdirect. They're just toying with me. It can't be him." Then the shot cut to little Grogu perking up and then the sheer look of terror on Gideon's face. I was still skeptical, years of movies seeking to "subvert expectations" had jaded my outlook, and I didn't dare dream of something like this. Then, I saw the grainy security camera footage of a cloaked figure walking the corridors, and I was off of my couch on my hands and knees on the floor staring intently at the TV. That tingling feeling from the back of my neck spread to hairs on my arms. Goosebumps started to form, but still, I wasn't ready to believe it. "It's just Ashoka, or maybe Ezra from Rebels," I told myself. 

Then I saw it, that green shaft of light being held by a black glove, and suddenly it was a reality. I laughed at that moment. It wasn't a mocking laugh or a dismissive one, but it was of pure, unfiltered joy. It was Luke! My hero since I was four years old, had returned to my screen, and he was even more of a badass than I remembered. It's been nearly a week since I watched it, and even writing about it now still gives me chills. I've had friends tell me they literally wept during those final moments, people who wouldn't admit to crying if a gun was held to their heads. I can totally understand that reaction because, as a character, Luke Skywalker is as much a part of global culture as any mythological figure, perhaps more so. People love these characters, I love these characters, and it was so refreshing to see them handled with such care.

Anyway, I've prattled on long enough. Maybe I'm just melodramatic, I mean, it's just a silly kids movie set in space, but like I said, it played such a huge part in my life. So, thanks to John Favreau and Dave Filoni (because I know they're reading this, lol) and the terrific cast of The Mandalorian. Thank you for rekindling my love for the Star Wars Universe. Keep up the good work, guys.