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Tatler Asia
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Tatler Asia
5 times Star Wars' ‘Andor' mirrors real-world history in the most visceral way
We're not referencing any particular moment; we're referencing the human condition. It's about the fact that human beings are always the same. The circumstances change, but the behaviour doesn't. - Tony Gilroy, 'Andor' showrunner and screenwriter - Although Gilroy has dismissed speculation that he drew direct parallels to current world events, he has acknowledged that ' Andor is like a catalogue of a couple of thousand years of repetitive cruelty and oppression.' 'If you look at history, every 50 or 100 years, the same things happen. People rise up, people are oppressed, and the cycle continues,' he told Variety , noting that he drew inspiration from various historical events and figures while also referencing films like The Battle of Algiers and This Land is Mine for visual and thematic influence. Don't miss: 10 most expensive Lego Star Wars sets to bring home on Star Wars Day We unpack some of the thematic connections that make the series feel urgent, relevant, and deeply human–demonstrating that even in a galaxy far, far away, everything remains painfully familiar. Authoritarianism and fascism Above 'Star Wars' creator George Lucas has acknowledged how historical events like the rise of the Third Reich shaped the Empire (Photo: WikiCommons) Above Imperial uniforms and Darth Vader's imposing black attire deliberately echo those of the Nazi Schutzstaffel (Photo: Pinterest) Originally conceived during the Richard Nixon administration in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Star Wars creator George Lucas has consistently acknowledged how fascism, authoritarianism, and real-world historical events–particularly the rise of the Third Reich–shaped his vision of the Empire. In fact, this historical grounding was embedded in the franchise's visual DNA from the beginning. Clear examples include the Empire's stormtroopers, whose name derives from Hitler's Sturmabteilung (SA), the original paramilitary organisation under Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party of Germany. Similarly, Imperial uniforms and Darth Vader's imposing black attire deliberately echo those of the Schutzstaffel (SS), the 'political soldiers' of the Nazi Party. Photo 1 of 2 The Imperial Security Bureau (ISB) represents an amalgamation of the Gestapo, the Stasi and KGB (Photo: Lucasfilm) Photo 2 of 2 The ISB monitors populations, and suppress dissent through propaganda and brute force (Photo: Lucasfilm) Above Denise Gough portrays the ambitious ISB agent Dedra Meero (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) Above Ben Mendelsohn reprises his 'Rogue One' role as Orson Krennic (Photo: Instagram / @mandoade_77) These parallels, of course, persist in the Andor series, which is set during the height of Imperial control in the canonical timeline. While iconic characters like Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker are notably absent, the series deepens these established connections, providing richer insights into the mechanisms of authoritarian rule through its portrayal of the Imperial Security Bureau (ISB). Read more: From 'The Last of Us' to 'The Fantastic Four': First Steps': Pedro Pascal is dominating the spotlight As the Empire's internal intelligence, surveillance, and secret police apparatus, the ISB represents a chilling amalgamation of real-world organisations such as the Gestapo (Nazi Germany), the Stasi (East Germany), and the KGB (Soviet Union). Highly bureaucratic, deeply paranoid, and ruthlessly efficient, the ISB employs advanced technology and intricate administrative systems to monitor populations, and suppress dissent through propaganda and brute force–in an effort to maintain the Emperor's iron grip across the galaxy. A revolutionary heist Above The guerilla-style operation to seize the Imperial payroll from a heavily fortified garrison (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) In season one, the pivotal Aldhani Heist marks a watershed moment not only for Andor but for the entire Star Wars saga–representing the first coordinated strike by what would eventually evolve into the Rebel Alliance. The story arc saw Andor join Vel Sartha (portrayed by Faye Marsay) and her ragtag rebel crew embedded on Aldhani–consisting of Cinta Kaz (Varada Sethu), Taramyn Barcona (Gershwyn Eustache Jr), Arvel Skeen (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), Karis Nemik (Alex Lawther) and their Imperial insider Lieutenant Gorn (Sule Rimi)–for a covert but audacious operation to seize the Imperial payroll from a heavily fortified garrison. See also: Doing the impossible: How the Rural Doctors Movement started a healthcare revolution in Thailand A heist designed to shock the Empire, provoke a response, and show the galaxy that resistance is possible, it is inspired by the infamous 1907 Tiflis bank robbery orchestrated by Joseph Stalin–whom Gilroy quipped Luna's Andor looks like–and his Bolshevik comrades against Tsarist Russia. Above Yeveran Square, where the Tiflis robbery took place in 1907 (Photo: WikiCommons) The historical robbery in Tiflis (present-day Tbilisi, Georgia) aimed to finance revolutionary activities against the Russian Empire. The Bolsheviks successfully seized approximately 300,000 rubles–equivalent to roughly US$1 million at the time–by launching a precisely timed attack on a bank transport using explosives and firearms, resulting in numerous casualties. Furthermore, both operations feature small, determined groups executing calculated, high-risk missions against seemingly invincible imperial powers; reflecting tactics employed by various 20th-century revolutionary movements, particularly leftist guerrilla organisations that utilised asymmetric warfare and strategic strikes to destabilise established regimes. Don't miss: Netflix: The best true crime shows you need to watch Labour and immigration Above Narkina 5 inmates were labour prisoners exploited for industrial production (Photo: Lucasfilm) Following the events on Aldhani in season one, Andor is abruptly apprehended–quite literally–by a KX-series security droid, one of which will eventually become his trusted companion in Rogue One . While hiding out on Niamos, he is falsely convicted and sent to serve time in the Imperial prison complex on Narkina 5, the sterile, electrically enforced Imperial prison complex, where inmates are reduced to little more than production units, forced to work twelve-hour shifts to assemble mysterious mechanical components (for the Death Star) under the constant threat of electrocution for failing to meet quotas. Read more: Professor Dato' Dr Adeeba Kamarulzaman weighs in on drug policy reform, higher education and overcoming challenges The prison's hyper-regimented environment and systematic dehumanisation present an unflinching depiction of forced labour systems–not as aberrations, but as deliberate tools of Imperial control, while prisoners are psychologically manipulated into monitoring one another, clinging to the false hope of eventual 'release.' Above Uncomfortable parallels in Soviet gulags and Nazi conentration camps (Photo: WikiCommons) Narkina 5's meticulous efficiency and disregard for human dignity finds uncomfortable parallels in Soviet gulags–established in 1918 after the Russian Revolution, where hope was weaponised as control, and labour prisoners exploited for industrial production; before they were systematically exterminated, much like the prisoners in Nazi concentration camps during the Second World War. Andor echoes this grim historical reality through the off-screen mass execution of inmates on another level, following an accidental readmission that revealed the facility's 'recycling' system of transferring prisoners between levels instead of releasing them. See also: Behind Anora: The Oscar-winning story of love, chaos and Sean Baker's bold vision Above Bix Caleen (Adria Arjona), Wilmon Paak (Muhannad Bhaier), and Brasso (Joplin Sibtain) end up as undocumented labourers in Mina-Rau (Photo: Lucasfilm) Later, when Andor's allies from Ferrix–Bix Caleen (Adria Arjona), Wilmon Paak (Muhannad Bhaier), and Brasso (Joplin Sibtain)–end up as undocumented labourers in Mina-Rau in season two, the show draws a clear parallel to the modern-day plight of migrant workers. Performing essential labour while living in constant precarity, these characters mirror real-world migrants who face the threat of deportation, lack of legal protections, and limited recourse against exploitation. Above Migrant labourers routinely endure wage theft, hazardous working conditions, and systemic exploitation (Photo: WikiCommons) Much like the Empire's approach to maintaining control and suppressing dissent, these conditions reflect the lived experiences of undocumented workers in countries, such as the United States, and the Middle East–particularly in Saudi Arabia and Qatar, where Amnesty International reports have recently revealed migrant workers facing serious abuses. Despite forming the backbone of key industries such as agriculture, construction, and food service, migrant labourers routinely endure wage theft, hazardous working conditions, and systemic exploitation–vulnerabilities that are magnified by their immigration status, which dramatically restricts their ability to advocate for fair treatment or improved conditions. Don't miss: Malaysian social enterprise Pinkcollar is driving ethical recruitment for migrant workers forward Protests and massacres Photo 1 of 2 Maarva Andor (Fiona Shaw) galvanising the people of Ferrix against the Empire (Photo: Lucasfilm) Photo 2 of 2 The Imperial forces were caught off guard in Ferrix's seemingly unassuming uprising (Photo: Lucasfilm) When push comes to shove for the meek and powerless, something is bound to break; and this nuanced exploration of the cycle of oppression and resistance in Andor reaches its crescendo during the finale episode of season one, when the people of Ferrix gather for Andor's surrogate mother Maarva's (Fiona Shaw) funeral. Long suffering under Imperial occupation, Ferrix citizens use the ritual of mourning as an act of defiance, catching Imperial forces completely off guard in their uprising. While the Ferrix funeral riot bears particular resemblance to the funeral of journalist Shireen Abu Akleh in East Jerusalem in 2022–when Israeli forces attacked mourners carrying her coffin–this climactic sequence in the season finale resembles large-scale civil unrest, akin to crackdowns like the 1989 Tiananmen Massacre. Demonstrators in Beijing, who gathered initially with hopes for dialogue and reform, discovered that authoritarian regimes ultimately resort to overwhelming force when their authority is challenged. The Chinese government deployed tanks against unarmed students, killing hundreds to thousands of civilians–a complete death toll that remains unknown to this day. Read more: From frustration to force: activist and ecofeminist Ili Nadiah Dzulfakar on redefining climate justice in Malaysia Photo 1 of 2 Tension between the Empire and the local population escalate dramatically, culminating in the tragic and pivotal Ghorman Massacre (Photo: Lucasfilm) Photo 2 of 2 The Ghorman resistance party portrayed by predominantly French-speaking actors, evoking parallels to the French Resistance, and emphasising their role as a passionate but ultimately doomed insurgent community (Photo: Lucasfilm) Throughout season two, audiences sense the proverbial penny in the air that is bound to drop in the most brutal way when Director Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn, who reprises his role from Rogue One ) focuses on Ghorman–a culturally rich but politically volatile planet reminiscent of historic textile cities like Milan and Turin–due to the city-planet's abundance of kalkite, a resource tied to the construction of the Death Star. Tension between the Empire and the local population escalates dramatically over the next few episodes, culminating in the tragic and pivotal Ghorman Massacre–a dark turning point that establishes Ghorman as a symbol of sacrifice and resistance that 'will burn, very brightly,' just as Luthen Rael (Stellan Skarsgård) anticipated. This fictional massacre evokes unmistakable parallels to South Africa's Sharpeville Massacre in 1960, during a peaceful demonstration organised by the Pan-Africanist Congress (PAC), a splinter group from the African National Congress (ANC). The police claimed some demonstrators began stoning officers and armoured vehicles, and opened fire with submachine guns on the crowd. The allegations were challenged when notably, many victims were shot in the back, indicating they were fleeing when fired upon. See also: The nature of resilience: Jane Goodall remains steadfast in her commitment to protecting the natural world One of the most violent and pivotal events in South Africa's anti-apartheid struggle, the shooting resulted in the deaths of 69 people, including women and children, and wounded over 180 others. While the event led to increased repression in the country, it also galvanised greater international condemnation with some activists moving towards armed resistance. Casualties and catalysts Above Complex individuals whose humanity gradually erodes through systematic indoctrination (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) Adding another level of nuance to Andor 's storytelling is the unyielding examination of how seemingly ordinary individuals become cogs in the machinery of oppression through a lifetime of Imperial conditioning. Rather than focusing on the Empire's highest echelons, Andor offers a glimpse into the psyches and lives of mid-level enforcers. Characters like Dedra Meero (Denise Gough) and Syril Karn (Kyle Soller) aren't merely cartoon villains but complex individuals whose humanity gradually–if it hasn't already–erodes through systematic indoctrination. Above Meero (Gough) is steeped in Imperial conditioning (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) Above Kyle Soller portrays Syril Karn in the 'Andor' series (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) Meero, who reveals in a later episode of season two that she grew up in the Imperial Kinder-block, is steeped in Imperial conditioning and justifies her actions through blind adherence to protocol. Meanwhile, Karn, when an enlightening revelation strips him of his institutional identity, he wanders purposelessly through Palmo Square in Ghorman until he fixates on Andor– the one person who gave meaning to his otherwise mundane life as a deputy inspector on Morlana One at the start of the series–desperate to restore his sense of belonging. Above Front row, left to right: Hermann Göring, Rudolf Heß, and Joachim von Ribbentrop at the Nuremberg trials (Photo: WikiCommons) Above Adolf Eichmann in the glass booth during the 1961 Eichmann trial, where he received a death sentence (Photo: WikiCommons) These characters serve as chilling illustrations of what Hannah Arendt termed 'the banality of evil' in her coverage of the Eichmann trial in the 1960s against Nazi SS officer Adolf Eichmann, who was primarily responsible for implementing the Final Solution. 'A man who drifted into the Nazi Party, in search of purpose and direction, not out of deep ideological belief,' as Arendt described Eichmann–and, by and large, the many Nazi officers who claimed they were 'simply following orders' during the Nuremberg Trials in the 1940s; the historian and philosopher noted how ordinary people can commit harmful acts simply by not questioning their actions or the situations they face. Don't miss: Justice Centre Hong Kong's Lynette Nam on navigating the legal challenges in empowering refugees Above Senator Mon Mothma's (Genevieve O'Reilly) political awakening is analogous to notable world leaders following sociopolitical calamities (Photo: Instagram / @andorofficial) Yet amid this oppression, while calamity serves as a destroyer in crushing ordinary people, it simultaneously forges extraordinary leaders from them. Following the canonical atrocity that is the Ghorman Massacre, Senator Mon Mothma (Genevieve O'Reilly) is pushed to publicly denounce Emperor Palpatine on the Senate floor in front of senators who have sworn allegiance to the Empire. Catalytically, she also helps establish the Rebel Alliance that becomes the collective protagonist of the original Star Wars trilogy. Above Nelson Mandela's (left) leadership began following the Sharpeville Massacre in 1960 (Photo: WikiCommons) Mothma's political awakening is analogous to Nelson Mandela's leadership following the Sharpeville Massacre, when armed forces killed and injured protestors demonstrating against the apartheid-era passing laws to restrict their movement. Mandela and the African National Congress (ANC) shifted from non-violent protest to armed resistance shortly after, recognising the limits of peaceful protest under apartheid–marking a turning point in the anti-apartheid movement. Read more: These Asian social justice champions are leading the fight for human dignity Ultimately, while Andor successfully showcases what Gilroy and many others have observed about humanity–the circadian rhythm of authoritarianism that resurfaces every few generations–it also reveals how resistance invariably emerges as part of the cyclical nature as well. Though all the bad is bound to happen again, so will all the good. That is the sliver of hope one can take away from a momentous series like Andor –and what are rebellions, if not built on hope? Both seasons of 'Andor,' 'Rogue One' and other 'Star Wars' films and series are now streaming on Disney+ NOW READ From Merdeka 118 to the Blue Mansion: Malaysia's most spectacular film locations that have captivated international cinema 8 movies that sold more toys than tickets Millennial movies: the low-key traumatic films responsible for a generation's paranoia
The Hindu
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Hindu
The axe forgets, but the tree remembers: How ‘Andor' reflects history, from revolutionary Russia to modern-day Gaza
There's a scandalously radical something currently streaming on Disney+. It's a granular, more subversive vision that has been grounding the grandiose space operatics of that beloved galaxy far, far away. This is something about rebellion, yes, but also about its gestation. It's about the indignities, the betrayals, and the atrocities that make revolution inevitable and necessary. This brilliant something is Tony Gilroy's Andor. Praxis before hope Among the many surprises tucked into Gilroy's slow-burning espionage thriller masquerading as 'a Star Wars story', is how intimately the show understands the anatomy of rebellion. It's not surprising that he points to The Battle of Algiers as his biggest influence. Gillo Pontecorvo's Golden Lion-winner from 1966 is about ordinary people slowly learning how to push back, and the machinery that tries to crush them for it. Andor lifts from that idea to anatomise its rebellion. If Star Wars was once about hope, Andor is about praxis. It's about how rebellion is forged. That Andor has always felt the least like Star Wars has actually been the best thing about it. What it examines are the more combustible materials of history — bureaucracy, surveillance, police states, prison labour, and the everyday banality of evil that Hannah Arendt once named with terrifying clarity. Take, for instance, the Russian Revolution. The workers' uprisings in the factories of Petrograd are mirrored in the communal defiance that brews in the working-class Ferrix, where we see people pushed to the brink by small humiliations. Like Lenin's early Bolsheviks, the citizens of Ferrix operate in coded signals and public silences. Forging a revolutionary Cassian Andor himself seems to echo a young Joseph Stalin — not yet the dictator, but the furtive conspirator, the romantic outlaw raised in hardship, slipping through borders, organising sabotage, and always ducking the eye of empire. Stalin, like Cassian, started out only with self-preservation in mind. Meanwhile, the seasoned Marxist-Leninist Luthen Rael — the one who delivers that speech about burning your life so someone else can feel the warmth of a distant dawn — embodies the belief that you must first seize power, often through the master's tools, to build anew. Reflections of a wise Lenin radicalising the impressionable Stalin during the Bolshevik Revolution are discernible in Luthen and Cassian's dynamic, and by the time Cassian leads a breakout from the sterile panopticon hell of the Narkina 5 labour camp, he's finally beginning to understand the contours of revolution. Narkina 5 itself reads like a historical palimpsest. The white-on-white Imperial gulag conjures the sugar plantations of colonial Haiti. In a direct echo of Saint-Domingue under French rule, where enslaved Africans operated sugar mills in rotating teams, the prisoners at Narkina 5 are slaves in all but name. And in Kino Loy, the foreman-turned-martyr, we find shades of Toussaint Louverture — the Haitian general who began as a reformist and ended a revolutionary — caught in the middle as both victim and enforcer, who finally rises to liberate others even when he cannot liberate himself. The Left eats itself There's also a whisper of South Africa here — of the ANC and its covert networks, and of Mandela's long walk through compromise and confrontation. Mon Mothma embodies the internal fracturing of revolutionary thought. Like many liberal allies in apartheid-era South Africa, she hopes to work within the system and reform it gently, but Gilroy soon demonstrates the failure of soft resistance. Mothma is pushed to the margins and forced to make awful choices — including arranging her daughter's marriage to ensure funding for the Rebellion. Meanwhile, the privileged insurgent Vel recalls Patty Hearst — the heiress turned radical whose alliance with the Symbionese Liberation Army remains one of the more complicated chapters in America's revolutionary folklore. Like Hearst, Vel complicates ideas of ideological purity as both insider and class traitor, and she reminds us that revolutions often enlist allies from the very echelons they seek to dismantle. Yet, Saw Gerrera is still by far the most fractured reflection in Andor'smirror of revolution. Part Che Guevara, part Buenaventura Durruti, part Prabhakaran, part Malcolm X, he's the rebel forged from the fallout of real-world insurrections. Saw's furious roll call of rival rebel factions in Season 1 also mirrors the internecine rifts that have splintered leftist movements throughout history. The in-fighting among anarchists, communists, Trotskyists, and moderate republicans, who all opposed Francisco Franco's fascists during the Spanish Civil War, is perhaps the clearest parallel that a wounded and disillusioned George Orwell chronicled in Homage to Catalonia. A galaxy far, far too familiar Though Gilroy has been explicit that Andor draws from a sweep of revolutionary history, there's a reason that Palestine rises so clearly from the subtext. It is, as he tacitly suggests, the most immediate and ongoing example of settler-colonialism in our world today, and the latest arc from its second season expands upon that in startling ways. In arguably the most harrowing hour in Star Wars history, Andor drops the veil of allegory to stare directly at modern atrocity. The incident in question may have unfolded a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, but the contours are unmistakably of our present — of Gaza, where, as of this writing, tens of thousands have been killed, starved, or buried beneath rubble by an occupying power. Gilroy and his writers sketch, with horrifying clarity, the step-by-step blueprint of that seemingly blasphemous 'g-word', too divisive to be uttered out loud, in the era of post-truth politics. And when Mon Mothma dares to name the crime, she's laughed at and jeered out of the Senate chamber. There's no way around it: this is the most politically audacious storytelling Star Wars has ever attempted,d and it's the clearest this galaxy has ever been about ours. Every act of rebellion in Andor is drenched in historical aftershocks and reminds us that revolution is a mosaic of singular efforts. By layering very real struggles into the architecture of Star Wars mythology, Andor further collapses that distance between fiction and reality. The revolution is being televised, and the cosmic joke is that it's streaming on Disney+.
New York Times
22-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Andor' Is Not the Resistance You're Looking For
'Star Wars' has always been political. When the main thrust of the narrative is about rebels rising up against empire, that's simply hard to avoid. 'Andor,' the Disney+ streaming series that premiered in 2022, wears its politics openly: The show is about the brutal sacrifices people make, or are forced to make, in resistance to authoritarianism. As the new season begins streaming on Tuesday, it seems especially prescient. The first season of 'Andor,' which tells the story of Cassian Andor's first steps into the life of a revolutionary leader, is vivid and heartbreaking. By sidestepping the idea of the Force and avoiding the Jedi entirely, it is a 'Star Wars' story about the otherwise ordinary people who dedicate their lives and hearts to resisting an empire. 'Andor' examines all sides of how empires operate, including servants of the Imperial core, like the hapless wannabe Syril Karn, who are trying to track down and eliminate the rebels that Andor aids and abets. There are also wealthy establishment types trying to make changes from the inside, only to be forced to take a side. If you're thinking this doesn't sound like the typical offering from a multinational corporation best known for its child-friendly fare and nostalgia-bait sequels, you would be right. The show's creator, Tony Gilroy, says that Disney afforded him freedom to tell the exact story that he wanted to tell — one in which an apathetic man is pushed, by circumstance and community, into resistance. But I have always found the overwhelming praise for the show's revolutionary politics to be at odds with the means of its production. Andor's fictional radicalization and eventual rebellion is rooted in real-world inspirations. Mr. Gilroy said that the character Nemik, who writes a manifesto that inspires Andor, was modeled on Leon Trotsky as a 'young, naïve radical.' Benjamin Caron, who directed three episodes of the first season of the series, said that he was inspired by the film 'The Battle of Algiers,' which follows both the homegrown rebels and the soldiers occupying their country during the French-Algerian war. After Andor has been captured and sentenced on a bogus charge, he finds himself in a prison where everyone is always observed, and also always expected to complete a grueling task within an extremely small margin of time. Who could watch this show and not think of the Amazon warehouses? Or the private prisons of America, where inmates often work for cents on the dollar, or for no pay at all? The series' ability to capture a radical ideology has been the source of much of the show's critical praise. I found that seeing my own anticapitalist, anti-empire ideals reflected back to me in this show was affirming, as well as inspiring. But it also made me feel conflicted. After the creator of 'Star Wars,' George Lucas, sold his production company to Disney in 2012, the series became part of Disney's larger economic ecosystem. The company's existing 'intellectual property' — for it is always property, not art — becomes commerce: spinoffs, merchandise, theme park rides. Even the great revolutionary Cassian Andor is available for purchase as a part of 'Star Tours — The Adventures Continue' at Disney World. By the time Disney had colonized 'Star Wars,' it had also acquired the comic book company Marvel and had embarked on an ambitious expansion of the blockbuster culture that 'Star Wars' helped usher in, to the extent that Disney experienced total dominance over the box office, choking out other, original fare. In these decades of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Disney has extracted as much as it could out of 'Star Wars' and its dedicated fan base. But something got lost along the way. The sequels lacked urgency, and the Disney+ streamer spinoffs were even more empty (sorry, Baby Yoda, it's true.) That is, until 'Andor.' More than just the conditions of Hollywood, the political aims of Disney as a multinational corporation sometimes also chafe me. After the election of Donald Trump, Disney has removed a transgender story line from a streaming show, and Robert A. Iger, the company's chief executive, decided to settle a defamation suit brought by Mr. Trump against ABC News, a subsidiary of Disney. Yet if you feel inspired by 'Andor' as a viewer, that doesn't make you a hypocrite. And if it does, then I am among your number. Being true to yourself in a society ruled over by huge corporations like Disney is often impossible. The show is somehow both a politically affirming piece of art and an agent of corporate commerce. Its goal is not change, much less revolution, but to get you to pay between $9.99 (with ads) and $15.99 (without) a month to subscribe. I worry that for many people the consumption of this television show feels pacifying, as if watching it is a replacement for joining a protest, their fandom for the rebel alliance a stand-in for their politics in the real world. Disney wants to provide every product to you, even the language of your rebellion against Disney. What's the point of feeling affirmed if the ultimate goal of Disney is to get you to spend more money on its brands? Mr. Gilroy has said that the critical success of the first season of 'Andor' has given him even greater freedom in its second season. That's great news — but it also shows how important the show's critical success is for Disney's continued use of the 'Star Wars" intellectual property. The show is one of the few offerings that has succeeded in giving Disney both viewership and clout in terms of critical praise. 'Andor' also needs Disney. Specifically, Mr. Gilroy needs Disney's money and the reach that the brand gives him. The show is a high budget science fiction spectacle on top of being a piece of political art. Disney reportedly spent $645 million on 'Andor,' and you can see all that money on the screen. It's in the incredible pedigree of the cast — Stellan Skarsgard, Diego Luna, Andy Serkis, Fiona Shaw, Forest Whitaker. It also shows in the moments of serene beauty that serve to punctuate its political message. In one of the early arcs of the show, Cassian Andor joins a heist that uses a once-in-a-lifetime astrological event as cover. As Andor and his crew navigate through this nanoparticle cloud, streams of light surrounding them, they realize that they, too, have pulled off a once-in-a-lifetime act of rebellion. People can learn how to embody their radical politics from anywhere. One of the first times I took leftist politics seriously was when I picked up 'Rock Against Bush' anthologies at my Best Buy. I grabbed them because I was trying to impress a boy, but they also introduced me to explicitly political bands like the (International) Noise Conspiracy and Against Me!, which helped me more clearly define my own politics. If 'Andor' does the same for its viewers, then despite my misgivings about Disney, I am grateful for it. Allow yourself to truly identify with Cassian Andor, someone who hadn't even wanted to join a cause initially, but found himself, over time, unable to just sit by. In the struggle against authoritarianism in real life, many of us are like that, moved to action even before we know what we truly believe. If nothing else, 'Andor' visualizes a simple truth that I try to remember when the news is grim: There are more of us than there are of them.
