The first two seasons of The Mandalorian premiered with a television ecosystem (audience, commentators, media) prepared to gobble up any information, detail, preview or anecdote from the series. It was an unquestionable event in a series-loving scene where standing out was increasingly difficult. This Wednesday, on the other hand, the Mandalorian played by Pedro Pascal stars in a return to television that should be glorious but to which the stealthy label fits better.
One significant detail is that the media did not have access to the third season episodes in advance. It cannot be said that it is an exceptional circumstance but, in order to promote a series in its third season, perhaps it does not help to open mouths with first impressions. In addition, it is not that the launch was accompanied by interviews with the talent, possibly affecting the promotion, which has its greatest asset in a Pedro Pascal that is currently linked to a rival production, The last of us, which has become a phenomenon for HBO.
And, while this calm around The Mandalorian can be associated with its seniority, it can also be associated with the wear and tear on the Star Wars brand. It is not the same to be the only television ambassador of the George Lucas universe than to return after the broadcast of Obi Wan Kenobi or The Book of Boba Fett, two creatively failed works that had their only reason for being in Disney's desire to squeeze two names acquaintances. Andor, in fact, was the first to be affected by the erosion of the brand: Tony Gilroy offered the most stimulating Star Wars work since the original trilogy and had a hard time penetrating the seriéphile conversation after the public's loss of confidence or interest on the mark.
In this semi-crisis context, just like Mickey Mouse with the Marvel franchise (which leads at the box office but with less buoyant numbers and reviews each time), it cannot be said that the first episode of The Mandalorian is going to drive the narrative around the series. First, the viewer who only follows this series may find themselves lost: writer Jon Favreau resolved the season two finale into a two-episode arc of The Book of Boba Fett, which had a terrible season were it not for this hiatus. Second, the episode that is titled The Apostate, in the attempt to trace the path of the season, a process is perceived.
And it is that Din Djarin, after meeting with a Grogu who he missed and who trained with Luke Skywalker, wants to redeem himself. Since his orthodox creed prevented him from removing his helmet and showing his face to third parties and he did, now he must find the Mandalore mines to atone for his sins and become a Mandalorian again in the eyes of the community. wandering from him
The Mandalorian shines, for example, in the combat between Mandalorians and a sea monster because old-school adventures always provide entertainment in the franchise, even when these monsters appear arbitrarily and don't even affect the protagonist's journey. But, by giving priority to the presentation of Din's mission, the series loses steam, even trying to liven up the minutes with cameos by Bo-Katan (Katee Sackhoff) and Greef Karga (Carl Weathers) or the appearance of androids or extraterrestrial races that they always make you smile.
This is partly the fault of the episode's structure, which interconnects scenarios and situations without delving into any of them (how wasted the exchange between Din and Bo-Katan, who could have resumed their stimulating debate on fundamentalism in which he tries to fit the protagonist!). And, in part, the error is found in a foundational element of the series: having the protagonist behind a helmet that prevents seeing any trace of expressiveness (and with an ally doll that seems to have not evolved in the slightest after his education with Luke), any possibility of conveying emotion, giving weight or simply emphasizing the Mandalorian's dramatic conflict is diluted.
