Andor Season 2, Episodes 7-9 Review

This review contains spoilers for Andor season 2, episodes 7-9.

Andor’s second season hits its stride in its third chapter, with an impeccable batch of episodes that pay off weeks worth of storylines and years worth of planning for the Rebels and Empire. There are consequences for everything that’s happened so far – the bills are coming due, and episodes 7, 8, and 9 are all about how people are dealing with the costs of their actions.

But before we get to all that, I want to start with a kiss. Where smooching is concerned, there isn’t a lot of steam in Star Wars. Han and Leia of course shared a pretty hot moment while repairing the Falcon in the belly of a big space worm, but for the most part, physical affection in this fictional universe is just a peck on the cheek for luck on the Death Star. Andor is easily the most kissing-forward corner of the franchise, and there’s one lip-to-lip moment in chapter 3 that is honestly remarkable.

In episode 7, when Dedra kisses Syril, it almost counts as body horror. The kiss comes from an animalistic place, a desperate part of Dedra that we for sure haven’t seen yet. Romantically, it’s a far cry from the hour the couple spent together with the lights off in last week’s episodes. But, strangely enough, it’s a kiss that speaks to what this entire third chapter is all about. Like so much in this batch of episodes, it’s just too late.

It may seem like a stretch to distill the theme of a full quarter of Andor’s second season down to an uncomfortable-to-look-at kiss, but Syril and Dedra have now both seen behind the curtain of the Empire. They’re more fully aware of their role in what’s been happening, of the shape of their own little cog in the Imperial machine, and it’s disturbing for them. Neither quite knows how to handle it, and there is so much happening internally for each of them in this scene.

Syril just wants to be valuable and to be recognized. That’s all he’s ever wanted, but he’s flailing now that he has some notion of how he’s being used on Ghorman. Dedra just needs Syril to keep it together. She’s hoping he can realize that the rewards will outweigh however he’s feeling about what they’ve done to earn them. She can handle it better than he can. But what’s about to happen can be difficult to stomach, even for a “good soldier” like Dedra. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to do about it now. What’s done is done – and more to the point, what they’ve done, they’ve already done.

And that kiss… it might as well have been a slap for all the worry and anxiety and frustration built into that moment. The die is cast, though, and for Syril to be asking these questions – well, it’s just too late.

Maybe “too late” is the wrong way to put it. Maybe “past the point of no return” is more appropriate. But the moral of the story here in chapter 3 is that the plot is starting to become secondary to how it’s exerting itself onto these characters. Their role in setting these events in motion is done and all that’s left is the motion. But how are the consequences of their actions surprising them? How are they changing these people? These are questions that Andor, three fourths of the way through the second season, is answering in really fascinating ways.

Before we get to that passionately confused and frustrated kiss, chapter 3 opens with the rebels back on Yavin in BBY 2. Another year has gone by, and the countdown is ticking closer to Rogue One and, honestly, I felt a little pang of stress seeing that date pop up. It’s such a tiny little thing, but the anxiety it adds to the week-to-week rollout of this show is great. Meanwhile, showing Yavin in all its familiar, Rebel-base splendor is pretty savvy too. This is clearly the home stretch, because a setting from Rogue One and A New Hope is back in its old costume. We’re there, time’s up. From the very first frames of episode 7, visually speaking, we know there’s no going back, and the rest of this chapter hammers that home.

This is also where the dramatic irony of Andor is paid off perfectly. Cassian’s story in chapter 3 is one of unavoidable fate: The decision to go after Dedra on Ghorman doesn’t seem like one that’s even up to him, which in turn speaks to how beyond “talking about things” we are.

Mon’s version of this is when the senator from Ghorman approaches her to say “thank you,” and apologize that he’d never let her know how much she’s meant to him and his people’s struggle. This of course is in direct contrast to the last time we saw him, when he was advising his constituents to avoid provoking the Empire further. There’s sadness in this performance. It’s rooted in the knowledge that nothing can be done – short of, as he says, turning back the clock.

But all this leads to the real centerpiece of chapter 3: the Ghorman Massacre. It’s the centerpiece of the entire season really, and possibly even beyond that. When the Empire’s plan fully comes to fruition, it’s heartbreaking. Years worth of subtle action that began in a board room is playing out in bloody murder on the square in Ghorman. We’ve known it’s coming the entire season. They’ve told us what they plan to do, we’ve seen how futile it’s been for all of our main characters to prevent it, and now we just have to sit and watch the tragedy unfold.

There is some incredibly smart filmmaking throughout the sequence. I love how for some of the characters the camera is chaotic and shaky and won’t let you get your bearings emotionally, even while you can track all the action physically on screen. Meanwhile, Syril is shot in a lot of slow motion, while the reality of his situation begins to sink in. There’s a cold aloofness to the Empire’s trigger man, the crisis specialist sent to oversee the final nudge into chaos on Ghorman. It’s present in the actor’s performance, and I’m sure it was on the page, too. But shooting him through a window – where we can see the reflection of the mounting casualties in front of him – is a very powerful image.

But the brilliance of this sequence begins way before that, and speaks to why Andor has impressed me so much. As Tony Gilroy told IGN at Star Wars Celebration, in making Andor, he was entrusted with a five-year stretch along the Star Wars timeline. “There’s a few canonical incidents that I have to pay attention to, and one of them was always [the] Ghorman massacre… that leads Mon Mothma to give a speech in the Senate where she breaks away and she goes to Yavin,” he said. “So that’s on the menu. I have to deal with that.”

That an event is established in Star Wars lore during any five year period is of course not surprising. In this case, however, the events on Ghorman were a relatively blank slate for the writers to develop, allowing them to acknowledge the established canon, while making it their own – and, as evidenced by episode 8, create something truly affecting. “We’re going to build another really super-complicated ornate planet with a language and an economy and all these things, and it’s expensive to do that.” Gilroy said. “It’s a really significant part of our show. We want to make it as heartbreaking and dramatic and as essential and important as it can possibly be.”

This is exactly why Andor is the best of modern Star Wars. Tony Gilroy went into this knowing the rules of the sandbox he was playing in and exactly how narrow and complicated his job on Andor really was. Instead of just including a cursory easter egg or, worse yet, not paying enough attention to canon and accidentally making it more confusing, Gilroy and the rest of Andor’s filmmakers took a thoughtful approach about this shows place in the canon and how to create, as he says, something that is essential to Star Wars.

Beyond that, the most amazing part of episode 8 is the gut-wrenching crescendo it gives to one of Andor’s biggest antagonists. Syril finally gets his hands on Cassian, and the choreography of the fight is perfect. It’s brutal and out of control and angry, and when Cassian says “Who are you?,” everything that Syril has been trying to do since we first met him is over. These words are deadlier to him than the head shot he’s about to take. All of his misplaced anger and effort, the mission that’s defined him – and Cassian didn’t even know he existed.

There is, of course, more to this batch of episodes than just the Ghorman Massacre, and more that speaks to everyone being past a point of no return. Luthen is notably, and appropriately, absent from the first two episodes. But when he does arrive, he comes with discussions of fate and free will. He also scares the pants off Mon Mothma who is starting to see herself as a potentially expendable and dangerous loose end. Again, there’s nothing to be done about it. The rebellion is on its feet and has a momentum that’s not going to stop.

There’s a phrase they use on the news a few times during these episodes – “inexplicable resistance to Imperial norms.” On top of being a frighteningly accurate depiction of fascism, there’s a touch of meta to the phrase’s inclusion as well. Andor continues to rebel as a show that exists in the Star Wars franchise. The Force shows up one time in chapter 3, and frankly, it’s the least interesting part of these episodes – even if it’s rolled into the idea of fate that Cassian and Luthen both struggle with.

George Lucas created Star Wars to have an anti-war and anti-colonial message, but along the way, the franchise began to favor the more fantastic elements of the universe: the Jedi and the Sith, the Force that connects, and more often than not it all ties back to one family’s story. Andor, though, remains determined to get back to the little guy fighting against the powers that be. Here the Empire is not just Palpatine on his throne and Vader doing his bidding. While the Emperor is discussed plenty, and his wishes communicated, he very pointedly remains off screen – one of the savviest choices made in this season. Had these episodes taken a detour to see Palpatine himself give the order to move ahead on Ghorman, it would’ve been to the series’ detriment. Andor shows that the Empire requires everybody, down to the smallest Syril or Dedra, to do terrible things in its name.

As Andor’s story gets closer to the events of Rogue One and the original trilogy, there are fewer gaps to fill in and even fewer options for the characters and the creators. Instead of that being a limitation, Andor is thriving, subverting our expectations for a Star Wars series and owning the dramatic irony inherent in a prequel. After all, next week will be BBY 1 – and the series finale. It’s just too late to do anything else.