But mostly, trying to encapsulate the brilliance of this show is best done by simply recounting a litany of the many many ways in which it draws the Star Wars struggle down to a human level. This is a show concerned with prison bureaucracy, with the existence of toilets, with the existence of deaths from despair. It’s aware of revolutionary factionalism and bureaucratic infighting. It unflinchingly depicts cops and corrections officers as unrepentant, moronic sadists. It shows how prisoners can be made to turn on one another, crabs-in-a-bucket style. It includes insightfully fascistic phrases like “Can one ever be too aggressive in preserving order?” and “If you’re doing nothing wrong, what is there to fear?” It acknowledges that the quaint customs of the various exotic civilizations in the Star Wars Galaxy include shit like arranged marriages between children. It shows committed romantic partners reading each other to filth, as when Cinta dismisses Vel as “a rich girl running away from her family,” then effectively quoting the Velvet Underground & Nico by telling Vel “I’m a mirror…you love me because I show you what you need to see.” A prison overseer tells Andor “Losing hope? Your mind? Keep it to yourself.”

I reviewed this week’s episode of Andor for Decider.

One of the many things that fascinate me about Andor is the way it makes you feel empathy, even admiration, for the employees of the Empire. Part of the explanation for this phenomenon is the simple fact that it’s simply a better written work of filmmaking than the vast majority of Star Wars material; of course the Imperials and their lackeys are going to feel more fully human, because everyone does. But even as the show chronicles the touch-and-go, knife’s-edge early days of the Rebellion, it paints portraits of Imperials you wouldn’t mind having a conversation with — if it weren’t for, y’know, the fascism. But still!

Take Dedra Meero, the Imperial Security Bureau officer trying her damndest to figure out the exact contours and scope of the nascent Rebellion. Thwarted by bureaucracy and backstabbing colleagues, she takes advantage of new laws passed in the wake of the Aldhani raid — the Patriot Act, basically — to work around those obstacles and get the information she needs from a galaxy-wide survey, instead of going sector by sector as mandated. And she gets results: enough information, she says, to prove her theory about a coordinated, galaxy-wide rebellion is correct. 

And instead of chiding her for breaking the rules or being over-ambitious, her supervisor, Major Partagaz, rewards her! He compliments her moxie and initiative, wondering how much better off they’d all be if everyone who worked for him displayed the same qualities. He gives her control of the sector previously under the command of her primary office rival. And he warns her to watch her back, knowing what kind of people they’re all dealing with. 

As played by Anton Lesser, Partagaz a charming guy, intimidating but insightful, the kind of boss you’re both scared of and kind of in awe of too. And Denise Gough plays Dedra as nothing but competent, strikingly so — truly skilled at her job in a way that makes you like and respect a person. These are remarkable, precise performances that endear you to the characters — I mean, again, if it weren’t for, y’know, the fascism. But still!

I reviewed today’s episode of Andor for Decider.

Human, humane, and absolutely thrilling on a genre level, Andor, like Interview with the Vampire and House of the Dragon, proves that nerd-franchise filmmaking on television can be real television, with real stakes and real characters and real motivations and real complexities that can’t be resolved with a visit to the wiki. I’m so glad it exists.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Andor for Decider.