‘The Mandalorian’ Delivered A More Satisfying Conclusion Than ‘The Rise Of Skywalker’

An almost faceless protagonist proved strangely compelling. Disney

Warning - Major Spoilers For The Mandalorian and Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker Ahead

After meandering mid-season, The Mandalorian delivered a fantastic season finale, bringing together the friends and enemies Mando made along the way, joining forces to remove the deadly bounty on the Child’s wrinkly head.

In an age where the average television addict has been spoilt by the challenging and complex narratives of HBO, Netflix and Amazon, The Mandalorian felt like a throwback to a simpler time, of bad acting, corny dialogue and adorable animatronics.

But despite the show’s flaws (and maybe even because of those flaws), The Mandalorian really captured the essence of classic Star Wars, providing a pulpy, fun-filled adventure with a decaying, retro-futuristic aesthetic, along with a generous helping of Mexican standoffs and sudden betrayals.

More importantly, the show delivered a solid conclusion to the story of Mando and the Child, simultaneously setting up another problem for season 2, and teasing us with an intimidating antagonist brandishing a legendary Jedi weapon. And Mando, despite his subdued personality, completed a solid character arc, along with everyone else.

At the start of the show, we know nothing about Mando, but we soon learn what he wants - to achieve high status within the Mandalorian tribe, and to feel like part of a family. By the end of Chapter 8, he has achieved both, having received his signet and become an adoptive father to the Child; as a bonus, he even conquered his irrational distrust of droids.

Cara Dune, Greef Karga and IG-11 have all changed by the end of the season, the three having discovered a new purpose, Cara and Greef having more room to grow in season 2. It was a simple story, sure, but The Mandalorian boasts a crystal-clear beginning and end.

In comparison, the sequel trilogy, ending with The Rise of Skywalker, crash-landed a wobbly, incoherent story, and failed to provide its protagonists with character arcs (with the notable exception of Kylo Ren).

Kylo begins his story as an angry, confused young man, and ends it in peace, having selflessly sacrificed his life to save Rey. Perhaps it wasn’t the most interesting ending for the character, but at least it was an ending.

Rey, Finn and Poe, however, end their story practically unchanged. Poe seemed to learn some kind of lesson in The Last Jedi, about self-restraint and following orders. Yet, he finishes his story in the exact same place he began - as a hotshot, hot-headed pilot. He doesn’t even get the girl (but hey, at least two random background characters shared a same-sex kiss that could be conveniently edited out ... Disney still doesn’t understand that pseudo-progressiveness is no substitute for closure).

Finn, on the other hand, started his story in a unique and interesting place, a former slave to the First Order who broke free to forge a new life in the Resistance. Then he flirted with a couple of women, and, umm, just … continued living his life, I suppose. He never even got to tell Rey the secret he’d been carrying throughout the movie.

Rey did slightly better, having started her story as an absurdly talented nobody with a mysterious past, had her backstory retconned (twice!), then became a trained Jedi with a new sense of purpose. But she’s essentially the same optimistic do-gooder she was in The Force Awakens, just now with a yellow lightsaber and a last name.

The lack of character progression is the reason why the sequel trilogy proved so incredibly divisive, along with a nonsensical plot that began with the rise of Kylo Ren and ended with the fall of … Emperor Palpatine, for some reason. Those three movies have been overanalyzed to death, but their failure to adhere to simple rules of storytelling is their real flaw.

Star Wars fans are numerous and diverse, and all want different things from the franchise, be it nostalgia, subversion, or just a fun-filled adventure, but above all, everybody wants characters that change, and stories that have a clear beginning, and end.

There will always be additional nitpicks and critiques, but if a story has a clear structure and character growth, most people will (likely) enjoy it. That’s the “secret” to the wild success of the Marvel movies, and The Mandalorian (Baby Yoda definitely had something to do with it as well). Notice, how the famously toxic Star Wars fan base has nothing nasty to say about the show?

Lastly, there’s one more thing The Mandalorian got right that I hope the next Star Wars movie will emulate. Rather than rushing from one elaborate, visually spectacular location to another, hoping that the audience doesn’t notice the plot holes, the show crawled through the galaxy, and established a sense of place.

The scene of the two stormtroopers chatting (a quintessentially Taika Waititi moment, with a touch of Tarantino) fleshed out two random soldiers who were soon dispatched by a nurse droid - it even had room for a meta-joke about the famously crappy aim of stormtroopers. That scene offered a glimpse into the strange, perilous lives of these easily dispatched grunts, exposing the humanity (and cruelty) behind the helmets.

The rust, the dust, the sense of a recently collapsed civilisation, struggling to rebuild itself after the events of the original trilogy, was soaked in almost every scene. The background characters seemed alive, the locations inhabited, the props used, and deteriorating by the minute. There was room to breathe, to meander, and as a result, the fantasy world felt real.

Turns out, there is an exciting future for Star Wars, and it’s on television; who’d have thought the story of a random gunslinger would overshadow the conclusion to the Skywalker saga?