People Are So Starved For Star Wars They’ll Forgive The Mandalorian’s Poor Storytelling: Part 1

I wish it was good, but The Mandalorian suffers from a lack of anything but nostalgia beneath its cute and cuddly surface

It’s 2 am. I’ve just binge-watched the Mandalorian for the second time and come to a startling revelation. It’s really not that good! I mean, I liked it well enough the first time around. Yet upon second viewing, it did so little for me but expose its inadequacies that I was shocked at how I’d been hoodwinked the first time. On the surface, it does several things really well, such as the visuals, the cinematic style, the referencing to old Star Wars tropes, the action and the ever-exploitable cuddle machine, Baby Yoda.

But let’s be real here, these surface aspects are the only areas where the show shines. The rest has no redeemable features where it should and makes me wonder if Baby Yoda himself didn’t write the show: a cute image for sure, but not one that encourages confidence. Its such a shame as well because the show has a truly great premise, but soon after trips and falls on the unambitious and play it safe storytelling evident in every scene. Let’s wade through a galaxy of references, call-backs and nostalgia to see what exactly went wrong.

Chapter 1: Story

Since they’re essentially interchangeable in this show, we’ll first look at the story and the two main characters. On the whole, The Mando has a great premise and core in Baby Yoda and The Mando’s relationship as they traverse the modern west in space. These two and their interactions are what makes the show. Or at least they’re supposed to be.

The trouble is their relationship is never explored, developed or put under any strain so as to reveal their connection and pull them closer together. They have a few joking interactions in each episode and at best struggle physically against some inane objective, but otherwise end the episode in the same place they started: as an unconventional relationship with shallow if entertaining interactions.

As characters, Baby Yoda is relegated to the voiceless nuclear bomb of weaponised nostalgia. And the Mando is tough to get to know because he always acts the same and we never see his facial expressions. Most episodes involve him being roped into a mission that has nothing to do with the overall story and includes throwaway characters that provoke little to no range of emotions in him.

In fact, I don't think we’ve ever seen him angry. Or Joyful. Or sad. And if we have its hard to tell with that helmet on. The issue here is not simply the helmet, which poses more of a creative hurdle than anchor, but the fact that the Mando is never put in situations where he must make choices that reveal his character. Every single episode amounts to a mini-adventure that requires physical exertion but a distinct lack of emotional decision-making. What we’re left with is a show where you can skip whole episodes because no characters have changed in them: something that’s a big problem for an 8 episode series!

Further, what’s baffling is that Mando, who was a serious lone wolf, struggles in no way with becoming responsible for a young child. His demeanour suddenly becomes more affable and he’s in the blink of an eye, a hero warming to the role of daddyhood. Is there no struggle to be had here? Does he now care about the people he kills? Did he help others before or just his own kind? We’re never told or hinted at depth or struggle in this area, only granted insight where it might permit references to other Star Wars properties.

What should have happened is we’re exposed in the pilot to his ruthlessness, selfishness and ability to thrive on being alone. This should have all been upturned by the decision to rescue Baby Yoda sending his controlled life spiralling into the unknown — something which to us would have been cinematic candy. Not only would this make for much more meaningful character moments, where The Mando struggles to reign in his more selfish desires and needs for control but also great moments of levity as the two are brought closer together through their differences: Yoda’s altruistic innocence and Mando’s experienced realism.

In this way, Mando’s journey would mirror another loveable smuggler in that universe. Han Solo went from selfish scoundrel to charming rogue over the course of A New Hope and all because he came to care for Luke and Leia. Likewise, the Mando should have started as a morally ambiguous Bounty Hunter who slowly evolves into a caring father figure and more noble warrior due to his exposure to his increasingly precious force-wielding companion. But wait, how can you show that when…

Chapter 2: The Helmet

Let me ask you a question: Why do stormtroopers or most villainous armies in movies wear helmets? It’s so the audience doesn’t have to risk sympathising with them. If we see that these are real people our heroes are killing it makes us question the good vs evil nature of the fight. Knowing this, why the hell do they leave his mask on all the time? Doing so actually has the opposite effect of what you want making Mando too emotionally distanced for us to truly connect with. Now, the issue is not that he keeps his helmet on in front of other people — that can be believed and worked with — its that he doesn’t take it off in front of Baby Yoda and allow a connection to grow there.

After all, he’s a baby. He’s probably not going to remember and if the two leads can’t see each other’s face, then development and bonding between them (especially when one of them can’t talk) is going to be limited to surface-level humour. This is not to say Mando shouldn't resist the idea of removing his mask. But if he did, then perhaps we’ll be able to have some meaningful interactions and we can see the person underneath, emotionally as much as physically.

I realise for a lot of fans the will-he-won’t-he take his helmet off tension is what keeps them interested, however, an exception needs to be made for Baby Yoda. And I know it’s part of the Mando code — this is the way — but frankly, that should come second to good storytelling.

Mostly though — and I can’t believe the writers missed this — what the mask and creed should have contributed was not merely mysticism but what’s behind it: character emotion. Hiding his face can work in favour of the story if done correctly. It can be used to make him more menacing and to hide his emotions where necessary. It’s therefore up to the writers to construe scenes where he’s put under emotional stress and has to lie or pretend not to be emotionally compromised. The effect is neither the audience nor the other characters are entirely aware if Mando is telling the truth/or what he’s feeling adding greatly to the suspense because his actions remain unpredictable.

This should have culminated in a scene at the end of the first season, where Mando is hurt and reveals himself. Now let me ask you a bookending question: If the Mando is going to reveal himself, who, of the two magical healers in the group, should he allow? The throwaway droid? Or the baby he’s been resisting taking his helmet off and avoid exposing his gentle heart too the entire season? Yeah! When I put it like that it's obvious, isn’t it? It's unbelievable the writers didn’t see this one and leverage it as the character relationship moment of the entire season! Unfortunately, this kind of creative whoopsy is not an exception but an example. A further one being…

Chapter 3: What’s the Goal?

When something isn’t quite working about a series, such as the character development or story exploration, a good question to ask is what are the character’s goals and how are they being explored in each episode. In Firefly (a similar show), the crew’s goal is to keep flying and avoid the Alliance — bad guys. Therefore, each episode explores their struggles with one or both of these objectives. From this, we understand that there is an episodic progression in what they want, where they’re going and how they’ve changed in order to get there. This is why goal is the backbone of a story.

Knowing this, what’s the Mandalorian’s goal? It's to protect Baby Yoda and deliver him to better hands, right? The problem is almost all episodes in The Mandalorian do not put Baby Yoda under threat from these relevant antagonists, nor do they bring him specifically closer to the Jedi or lead Mando to question whether he’s the right person to do this; for some reason, all of these are saved only for the opening and closing episodes of a season.

Instead, the episodes in between require Mando to go on a gunslinging adventure, the plot of which has little to no consequence on their overall goal. The audience is left having fun watching these but not actually engaging in them beyond the references of the lore offered. How could they when every adventure is self-contained, doesn't refer to their overarching mission or alter their relationship in any way? The effect of this is that we know going into every mini-mission that everything will be alright by the end, severely undermining the tension.

Each episode should instead be about an exploration of a character who we’re not able to fully predict on a constant mission to keep Yoda safe. As it stands, each episode feels like a side-quest in a videogame: fun for a while but ultimately meaningless if characters don’t evolve.

For now, thanks for reading! Tune in for part 2 of my dive into the blundered storytelling of The Mandalorian and what it means for the future of Disney’s Star Wars.