“adventure”
The reason why The Mandalorian (synopsis; trailer; cast & crew: rating) is noteworthy, from my perspective, is that it is the first work within the Star Wars canon that manages to reflect the characteristics that made the original Star Wars trilogy (now considered to be Episodes 4-6) so unique. Because, what was it, that set those movies apart, and that made them into the cultural and generational phenomena that they became?
Well, I am sure that the answer to this question will vary, depending on the person asked (to state a truism). However, from a cinematographic perspective – that is, from the perspective of what those films represented for the history and development of cinema – I would suggest that the original Star Wars movies were remarkable, and still stand out, by having opened new horizons for the very artform (for widening our understanding of the possibilities of film itself). Yes, those who were young at the time surely watched with eyes wide open, in wonder, the overwhelming, fabulous, never-before-seen space compositions parading in front of them: spaceships, stars and planets, strange new creatures, novel worlds; and that experience must have marked many, on a very personal level. But this feeling of wonder (which, whom are we kidding, was shared by most of those who saw the movies, no matter their age at the time) was the viewers’ response to a specific adventurousness of the creative imagination, of filmmaking vision, and of story-design, and adventurousness that uniquely defined those movies, of the original trilogy.
And this is why and how those movies opened new universes – both in the minds of their millions of viewers, as well as in terms of the creative horizons of filmmaking itself.
And it is from this perspective that I found The Mandalorian to be the only filmic work, really, within this “cinematic universe”, that was guided by, and that embodied, a similar sense of adventure and of wonder. And it is quite unpretentious, in that sense, The Mandalorian – because it knows how to focus on what is important, on what lies at the core of Star Wars as a genre – this sense of adventure, both narrative, and artistic. By comparison, and in dismal contrast, the prequel trilogy (“Episodes 1-3”) felt like a forced, sweat-fueled, clunky, artificial effort, for many of us; while the sequel trilogy, after starting with a fairly promising Episode 7 (The Force Awakens), was definitively derailed by a most displeasing and disheartening Episode 8 (The Last Jedi). But we are not here in order to talk about those pre- and after- trilogies, but to note how The Mandalorian is probably the closest in spirit to what was the best and the most unique feature of the original Star Wars.
All this might also help to explain why the much (too) maligned fanbase received The Mandalorian with such enthusiasm and open support – which mirrors also the general response to the Knights of the Old Republic (KOTOR) series of computer games. And I am not bringing the general public into this discussion as an argument per se about the quality (or the achievements) of The Mandalorian – but because this supports, I think, the reading that I am proposing: namely, that The Mandalorian, just like KOTOR, and just like the original Star Wars trilogy, are adventures (of the mind, of the imagination, and of artistic vision and creativity) – and that this is the specific quality, the salient artistic trait, and the utmost characteristic that any artistic product within the Star Wars “genre” should aim for. In other words, by its very nature, Star Wars is made to deliver for the people such “new worlds” and such unbridled, youthful, hope-filled adventures – and the people hunger for this! And this is why the individual works within the “Star Wars universe” that will fare the best, and that will be the most memorable, will be those that will understand this essence of what Star Wars is (as a type of artistic product) – and that, in consequence, will unabashedly try to follow and to embody this specific essence (the specific “spirit” of what is, by now, the Star Wars “genre”).
Among the other aspects that I would like to mention about this first season of The Mandalorian, and that I enjoyed or found noteworthy, would be the across-the-board elevated technical quality – special and digital effects, set design – of the series; high enough to create a seamless Star Wars world, and as high as any “series” (thus, not “feature film”) might aim to be; indeed, it would be hard to find fault with any aspect of this dimension of the series. Another thing that I found especially delightful was the choice casting – really notable names, in supporting roles: like Nick Nolte as the gnomic, friendly mechanic (farmer), Taika Waititi (although I was sure that it was in fact Richard Ayoade) as the assassin robot (bounty hunter), Werner Herzog as one of the main nemeses of the protagonists, and so on.
The overarching story, in itself, is fairly simple – and the episodic stories, as well. But that is not the point; or, rather, that is not a problem. The main point – as said – remains the fact that they are all adventures, namely occasions for us (and for the creators) to discover new worlds and intriguing characters, to root for the likable protagonists, and to be thrilled by what happens, and might happen.
And, yes, the “cute” “baby Yoda” did become an instant cultural phenomenon – and yes, the creature design is inherently manipulative. However, ask yourself why the tremendous difference between the open-hearted, warm reception of “baby Yoda”, and the general loathing of a character like Jar-Jar Binks. The answer, I would suggest, lies in the difference between the very nature of the films in which they were featured; namely, the difference between the forced, toil-and-sweat smelling, unlikable prequels, and the childlike wonder- and adventure-driven nature of The Mandalorian. The point is, once we (the spectators) believe in the premise and the principal “nature” of a work, then we become immersed in its universe, and thus the suspension of disbelief is not a problem. But we need first to believe in the truthfulness – the genuineness – of the given artwork; because, if we feel that we are being manipulated, if it feels like a cash-grab or like a forced effort from a committee – if we feel (unconsciously) that the creator’s impulse is less than genuine, then we will respond negatively (even if unconsciously), and reject all of it, wholesale (no matter the “cutesiness” of the featured creatures). (To give another example, KOTOR, that computer game that I mentioned, is fairly clunky in terms of its game mechanics; and yet it possesses tremendous attractiveness because of the breadth, inventiveness, and originality of its imagination, of the worlds and characters that it offers us, to discover and to wonder about; no wonder, then, that it became a legendary hit within the Star Wars universe.)
In brief, and in conclusion, this series, The Mandalorian, knows what it is and what it wants – both in terms of what it has to be (an embodying and a furthering of that Star Wars spirit) and of what it should not try to be (re. the limitations of a series, in terms of its episodic nature, limited time and budget etc.). In this sense, The Mandalorian is a good example of a felicitous meeting of form and content – and the resulting, harmonious product is persuasive and attractive. Credit is due, therefore, to the creative vision of its makers – Jon Favreau (his abilities in this sense being proven, like before) and Dave Filoni (also with a strong track record) – and, I assume, a few others whom I do not know.
What will follow – in the next seasons – we do not know, of course. One would hope and wish that the same faithfulness to the original vision (and thus the same, winning “simplicity” of vision) will be followed in the future installments of the series, as well – for its own sake, as an artistic act – and for the delight and pleasure of its viewers.
AFTERFILM 