‘Andor’ Embraces the Darkness

It’s been three years since the debut of Andor on Disney Plus, and we’re finally getting a second, much anticipated season of what we called “the darkest live action TV show in the Star Wars franchise, and perhaps the darkest story in live action Star Wars history,” in our review back in 2022. Some of us, especially those who found ourselves mesmerized by the Rogue One prequel series for its gritty tone and unsparing depiction of the perils of both fascism and resistance, had legitimate reason for concern in advance of Season 2. Would Disney defang the often brutal portrayal of life under Imperial rule and the complex moral relativism of the nascent Rebel Alliance? Could it manage to escape the second act doldrums? Or would it just kowtow to more delicate sensitivities and pad the series with enough fluff to make it cuddlier than an Ewok on Life Day? 

Fortunately, Andor’s return is as captivating as ever, and not only does it just embrace the same ethical complexities as Season 1, it leans into the darkness even harder. Well, fortunate for many of us, but not all. With the drop of the first three episodes last week, it’s clear that Tony Gilroy’s masterful series isn’t filing down its teeth, but sharpening them, as evidenced by the first shocking depiction of sexual assault in the entire history of the Star Wars franchise, which of course immediately led to controversy. Even in spite of the online deluge of shouting and finger wagging, Andor continues to be the best and most adult addition to the Star Wars canon to date.

Andor’s second season picks up one year after we last encountered our protagonists following the explosive riot on Ferrix, during which the beleaguered citizens of that planet–Cassian Andor’s adopted home–set the political powder keg ablaze. The series continues to feature major players from both the high seats of power, wealth and privilege, as well as the scrappy resistance fighters whose boots are literally on the ground in their desperate attempt to defeat the evil Empire.

Luthen Rael (Stellan Skarsgård) hasn’t let up on his mission to fund and organize the various rebel factions, all while pretending to be an effete antiques dealer on Coruscant. Similarly, Senator Mon Mothma (Genevieve O’Reilly) finds herself further enmeshed in the dangerous double life of high society politician and covert rebel financier, which lands her in perilous territory as she agrees to marry off her only daughter to the son of a Chandrillan mob boss, whose creative bookkeeping she employed last season to escape an Imperial audit that threatened to expose her. Like most of the major players in this particular slice of the saga, her decisions feel both weighty and complex, a combination rarely seen in a franchise that most recently featured kung fu jedi and Space Goonies. 

Meanwhile, on the Imperial side of things, IBS administrator Dedra Meero (Denise Gough) sees her star continue its ascent within the upper echelon of the Empire after Death Star architect Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn, reprising his role from Rogue One), hand picks her to join a jackboots and jodhpurs focus group to strategize how to best pacify the locals of a planet called Ghorman while they mercifully strip it of rare resources. The show’s depiction of the banality of evil and the ruthless efficiency of fascist bureaucracy remains a highlight of the series, and often feels scarier than the cartoonish kind of pure evil we see throughout the Star Wars films.

Andor even treats us to a boardroom pitch of an anti-Ghorman whisper campaign from the “Ministry of Enlightenment,” whose name is perfectly Orwellian. If you ever wanted to know what Joseph Goebbels would be up to if he’d found a multiverse portal to a galaxy far far away, this is definitely it. And what about disgraced police detective Syril Karn (Kyle Soller), whom we last saw saving Meero from that frenzied mob on Ferrix? Turns out, his efforts not only led to an elevation in his position at the bureau of standards cubicle farm, he’s also shacking up with Meero in a swanky apartment on Coruscant. Apparently their Javert-esque obsession with Andor and Luthen isn’t the only passion they share. 

As for the Rebels, they’ve not yet coalesced into the coordinated alliance depicted in Rogue One and A New Hope, but their guerilla warfare tactics and adroit spycraft on all levels clearly shows that the cause is building momentum. Following the fiasco on Ferrix, we find Bix Caleen (Adria Arjona), Brasso (Joplin Sibtain), Wilmon (Muhannad Ben Amor), and lovable droid B2EMO hiding out on the rustic farm planet of Mina-Rau, which resembles Space Nebraska. Tensions mount there, too, as the Empire begins a planetary survey there that includes the systematic rooting out of undocumented aliens, a narrative choice that feels particularly noteworthy in America right now. It’s not exactly a subtle move, but like the rest of the series, it feels compelling and essential. 

And finally, there’s our eponymous anti-hero, Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), who literally launches the first episode with the daring heist of an experimental Tie Fighter, a thrilling and taught slice of story that results in Cassian crash landing the heavily armed and complicated spacecraft on a forest planet, only to find himself smack dab in the middle of a Lord of the Flies power struggle amongst a group of marooned resistance fighters who aren’t the sharpest lightsabers in the temple. The juxtaposition of Andor, a smart, charming and capable rebel, and these hungry buffoons feels at times both dramatic and hilarious.

This brings us to one of the aspects that makes the second season of Andor uniquely captivating, namely its ability to adroitly balance gravitas and levity. Yes, the show gets dark, but it never seems completely dragged into melancholia and despair. It’s Star Wars, not Sylvia Plath Wars, and Gilroy’s talent for poking fun at his characters and their predicaments is a welcome release valve for the anxiety and tension he and the Andor writing team so deftly weave.

It also harks directly back to the humorous moments in the original trilogy: Cassian’s bumbling struggle to pilot the stolen Tie Advanced seems a clear homage to the various technical malfunctions Han Solo suffered aboard the Millennium Falcon back in Episodes IV and V. There’s also the “home life of yuppie space Nazis in love” subplot with Dedra and Cyril, including a dinner scene with Karn’s mother Eedy (inveterate scene thief Kathryn Hunter) which is exactly as humorous and awkward as that iconic one in Breaking Bad. 

If you have any doubts about the necessity of those lighthearted moments, just wait until you get a dose of Andor’s darkness, which somehow goes even harder in this second installment, particularly with regards to the now-controversial scene in which Bix fights off the violent sexual advances of an Imperial officer. This is the same Bix, you’ll remember, whom we saw tortured by the dying screams of alien children in the grimmest storyline of Season 1. It’s a shocking thing to witness, and yet it feels essential in honestly capturing the terrifying realities of fascist oppression, and to convey the dire urgency of the rebellion and the sacrifices of those who choose to fight for it.

Sure, this kind of bleak storytelling isn’t what most people think of when they think about Star Wars, but that’s what makes Andor so uniquely mesmerizing. Like Rogue One, which (spoiler alert) ended in the deaths of literally all its main characters, Andor refuses to hold back or attenuate its tone, making it feel more like an HBO drama than a sci-fi series from Disney, of all places. It’s a brave choice for Disney, and also for fans who appreciate complex and intelligent stories as well as space wizards wielding laser swords. 

Put simply, Andor is “adult Star Wars” at its finest, not just for its deep narrative, complicated characters and weighty themes, but also for its beauty. The extraordinary costumes, set design, landscapes and visual effects shine brightly when light is needed, and add dirty realism when similarly necessary. Even in just the first three episodes, it’s so good, you might even forget some of the ill-conceived goofy moments that have plagued the various Star Wars streaming series in the past couple of years.

Or maybe not. We’re still not giving that hairbrained Vespa chase in The Book of Boba Fett a pass.