As the first live-action Star Wars television series, The Mandalorian has quite a bit to prove. It has to prove that big-budget Star Wars stories could exist in a serialised format. It has to push past the barriers it faced, chief among them being its concept and its cost. But so far, it hasn’t disappointed. Not entirely, at least. There’s work to be done conceptually, but we have faith it will come together nicely.
The show is like the orphaned child of Star Wars and a semi-solid western, taking the best elements of both with it as it attempts to form its own identity. The operative word there is ‘attempts’. The Mandalorian sidesteps the trappings of a hollow blast-’em-up without adding anything new to its canon; it exists somewhere between foray and familiar, not knowing where it fits and suffering slightly because of it.
Regarding the helmeted hunter himself, it’s interesting to see him shoot for emulation and miss. The wayward gunslinger echoes the silence of spaghetti western staples but can’t emanate the air of mystery those hallowed heroes so effortlessly exuded. Pedro Pascal delivers on all fronts, even if the script can’t always match the quality of his acting. It all feels uneven, as if one aspect of the show is outperforming all others. And yes, that’s Pascal.
The Star Wars universe, usually teeming with life and imbued with narrative magnetism, feels barren. The Mandalorian skimps on tertiary characters, instead opting for an absurdly tight script that constricts rather than controls. It isn’t as confident of a debut as we had hoped, but it boasts more than enough action and intrigue to keep even the most discerning tastes reasonably satisfied. As with most series openers, this first chapter is all about table-setting. And it does so with aplomb. The show isn’t always exciting and it isn’t always as sharp as it could be, but it never feels perfunctory or lifeless. There is a solid show half-buried here. And we have a feeling Jon Favreau and company are just getting started.
