In 1792, the French revolutionary Maximillian Robespierre stood up in the National Convention and asked his fellow insurrectionists a question. “Citizens,” Robespierre enquired rhetorically, “did you want a revolution without a revolution?” Robespierre (who had not yet gotten seriously into the head-chopping bits of his future career, although he was getting there fast) was issuing his response to accusations that he had masterminded the September Massacres, a mass killing of Parisian prisoners that marked one of the first big moments of self-directed violence that the French Revolution would produce. His question was blunt, ugly, and compelling: Did you all think you could overthrow an authoritarian regime with nothing but politeness and firmly worded resolutions? Did you believe you could tear down the whole corrupt order of your society without dipping your hands in blood?
Saw Gerrera would get it—at least, once he was done huffing gas fumes and aiming guns at his nearest subordinates. The fifth episode of Andor‘s second season spends the majority of its runtime in the sci-fi version of a highly reserved spy thriller, but it gives Saw the final word. And that word, to sum up a lovely, if initially understated, Beau Willimon speech, delivered with rasping vigor by Forest Whitaker, is “Why?” We’ve spent 17 episodes now watching Luthen Rael and his operatives skulk through the shadows, collecting information, making targeted strikes, staying safe above all else. And the Empire looks, if anything, stronger than it was when they started. What is all this preparation, this subtlety, this web-weaving for, if you’re not willing to finally pick up the stone and just crack the nearest fascist in the fucking skull with it? When Ghorman Front leader Rylanz throws Cassian’s professional reserve back in his face near the episode’s end, asking “Not much of a revolutionary, are you?” we watch Andor’s hackles rise. But he also doesn’t have a rejoinder, because despite his commitment to the cause, Cassian’s never thought of himself in those terms. Spies and thieves thrive on getting away with it, on not getting caught. But revolution is, by its very nature, loud, dramatic, and unsafe. Why go through all the work to steal the fuel, though, if you’re not willing to light the spark?
But I’ve gotten ahead of myself, as I often do when an episode of TV saves all its heaviest swings for its final minutes. The lead-up to these big moments of introspection is a much lighter, if still tense, affair, as we mostly follow the adventures of Syril Karn, Interstellar Man Of Mystery. When I try to talk about why I love this character, and what both the script and Kyle Soller are doing with him, I often fall back on terms like “nerdy” or “fascist dork” and hope the intent comes through. But the fact is that I’m not sure that Star Wars has ever had a character quite like Syril before: He’s as broad, in his own way, as a Jar-Jar Binks, but it comes from a place of such realistic, cringey neediness that it’s hard not to laugh at or love him. He makes a shockingly good spy, for instance, because anyone rational who takes a look at his arc—as the Ghormans do when they crack into his file and find out his background with Preox-Morlana—would assume he’d understand how the Empire has screwed him over at every turn. What they fail to grasp, because it’s insane, is that he loves it.
I’ve watched the reunion scene between him and Dedra—who is, I’m coming to realize, essentially the Empire in human form, at least as far as Syril is concerned—like five times now, so I might as well get into the play-by-play: the incredibly reserved physical affection, the way Denise Gough gives so little away with every motion of her face, the mixture of wounded feeling and sexual tension. Like many Dedra/Syril scenes, it’s a comedy beat (“I can’t believe you had me followed”) that builds from the foundation of two profoundly screwed-up people. It’s also kind of genuinely hot, even if the, ahem, climax really comes the next day, when Meero brings Syril home to meet Daddy (a.k.a. present his findings to Major Partagaz). Anton Lesser is excellent as always here, softly lobbing ironies over Syril’s head and deftly managing the character’s obsessive need to be acknowledged. Syril’s gushing the moment the Major leaves the room is a reminder that none of this can really work, long-term: Our boy is an unstable element in a rigidly controlled system, and I can’t wait to see how it all blows up.
See also the steady devolution of Bix Caleen, whose unexpected check-in visit from Luthen this episode takes him exactly zero seconds to clock that she’s falling apart. We don’t get to see Stellan Skarsgård play his character at this level very often: neither the glad-handing fop he uses as his public mask, nor the stress-wracked taskmaster that’s lurking at his core. Call it “friendly boss who’s just checking in on you, bud!” mode, as he tries to keep one more ball successfully juggled without having to put in too much effort. As with Mon Mothma’s attempts to persuade her daughter last week, though, I think Luthen winds up giving Bix the help he would want, rather than what she needs: He keeps reminding her that she’s living in a spy’s safe house, not a home, and assumes a lack of action is what’s got her spiraling. I suspect this plotline will end up colliding with Luthen’s own woes, vis a vis that pesky bug that’s about to be discovered in shady business guy Davo Sculdun’s art collection. But for now, it’s mostly just another flavor of tension for an episode that’s all about the simmer, not the boil.
Which brings us back around to Cassian himself, with Diego Luna getting the chance to have a blast playing affable tourist/sleek professional spy with his visit to Ghorman. I’ve come to accept that these middle installments of an Andor block can’t have a big, satisfying release of tension by their very natures, so I have to find my pleasures in them where I can: in the way Luna slips in and out of his Varian Skye persona, or the fantastic work the show’s costuming team have done in designing the character’s most dapper look to date, or the calm, measured way he disassembles Enza Rylanz’s desperate impatience when she corners him in a Ghorman cafe. There’s a pleasure in watching a character who’s very good at something execute it well, and even if the episode ultimately suggests that Cass’ successes here are hollow—it’s worth remembering that he’s dead right that the Ghormans are walking blindly into a trap that will get them all killed, by the way—watching Luna swim these waters remains one of the show’s consistent pleasures.
And, finally, let me address D’Qar: There’s an argument to be made here that the utter predictability of the scenes that happen with the Gerrera rebels—Saw’s stated willingness to kill Wilmon, Pluti’s inevitable betrayal, and, finally, Wilmon’s successful radicalization—rob them of some of their power. But Whitaker (getting the first Big Speech of Andor‘s second season) takes such incredible control of that final scene, moving steadily from a droning background irritant into an inevitable force of nature, that the whole thing manages to pay off. “‘Cuz she’s my sister, rhydo,” he says of the volatile fuel Saw’s just coerced Wilmon into helping him steal and which he’s huffing like a maniac. “And she loves me. That itch, that burn. You feel how badly she wants to explode… You think I’m crazy? Yes, I am. Revolution is not for the sane.” It’s manipulation, brainwashing, but what else is a really good revolutionary speech for? Wilmon actor Muhannad Bhaier, who’s been mostly stuck looking worried for the first half of Andor‘s second season, sells the steadily rising fervor, too, as Saw gives him a chance to finally do something. You can’t have a revolution without a revolution, after all, and it’s starting to look like everyone is going to be forced to figure that out before this arc of Andor is finished with them.
Stray observations
- • We open not on the usual theme, but on the sound of Kleya scrubbing through radio traffic. It’s another one of those distinctly Andor touches: What do people listen to while living their lives inside the Empire. What do they watch? (Hunger Games-esque morning shows, according to Bix’s later sleepless TV binges.)
- • A weird, random little scene as Cassian picks up his fake ID from some sort of Coruscant identity dealer. Bizarre fact: The agent in that scene, Niki, is played by Pui Fan Lee, who spent more than a decade playing the original red Teletubby, Po.
- • Syril is a surprisingly good actor, bringing his fussiness to bear on being bullied by the ISB, even though we know he’s secretly loving every minute of it. His little pseudo-beret also has good “going native” coding.
- • The Ghorman Front might be getting taken for a ride, but they’re smooth in their handling of Syril, emphasizing loyalty to Palpatine but not his “disloyal” lackeys: “Many of us believe the Emperor has no idea what’s being done on his behalf.”
- • Adria Arjona’s best moment of the episode arrives in a single word: The crumpling “no” she releases when she sees Luthen at the door and automatically assumes he’s there to tell her that Cassian is dead.
- • The Ghorman Massacre is an old bit of Star Wars lore that’s been polished up and repurposed here. The nigh-hilarious callousness of Tarkin just dropping a ship on top of hundreds of people was meant to be a little absurd, originally, but one of Andor‘s tricks is taking moments like this seriously. (There’s a nice little performance from Stefan Crepon as he relates, it, too; you can watch Cassian go from “spy performing his cover” to genuine interest.)
- • From my episode notes: “FASCIST NERD FOREPLAY!”
- • “I am who you want me to be…but that’s just you getting lucky.”
- • I would love to know who decided that Syril playfully slides the spider over to his mother instead of just handing it to her like a normal person. And I continue to love Kathryn Hunter in this part: “Perhaps I’ll call it Syril!”
- • “If I say that this is the greatest day of my life, does it spoil everything?” Kinda, bud. (I believe that Dedra has a genuine form of whatever she has in place of affection for Syril—using him like this wouldn’t make sense otherwise—but even she knows exactly how cringe he is.)
- • No Mon this episode: She missed a few installments of the first season, too, but I’ll be curious how the next episode brings her back to the fore.
- • “We’re the rhydo, kid. We’re the fuel. We’re the thing that explodes when there’s too much friction in the air. Let it in, boy. That’s freedom calling. Let it in. Let it run. Let it run wild!”
