The Mandalorian and Grogu

Director: Jon Favreau
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Jeremy Allen White, Jonny Coyne, Martin Scorsese, Sigourney Weaver, Brendan Wayne, Lateef Crowder
Running Time: 132 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Whatever problems exist with director Jon Favreau's The Mandalorian and Grogu actually have little to do with the film itself, which marks an admirable big screen outing for the once popular Disney+ series. The real issue is that it comes about five or six years too late, long after the show's popularity peaked and briefly gave Star Wars fans hope their franchise may have turned a corner. And with pop culture moving faster by the day, it's easy to forget just how big a moment it was when a Mandalorian bounty hunter discovered this adorable, childlike green creature we initially dubbed "Baby Yoda." 

With that reveal, it seemed as if any criticisms, complaints and lingering resentment from the sequels momentarily subsided, replaced instead with the adoration millions suddenly had for Grogu. And for at least the first two seasons, Favreau and co-creator Dave Filoni couldn't miss, crafting a deliriously creative space Western that didn't coast on overexposed legacy names of the past. That is until Disney got greedy, flooding the market with inferior spin-offs and abandoning The Mandalorian after 2023's rough third season. So now amid creative chaos and confusion, this oddly becomes the first full-length Star Wars feature to hit theaters since 2019's The Rise of Skywalker. But awful timing aside, it is a blast seeing these two characters reunited in a film that's better than expected. 

Mandalorian Din Djarin, aka "Mando" (Pedro Pascal) and his foundling Grogu are hunting down Imperial forces on the outskirts of the galaxy when New Republic commander Ward (Sigourney Weaver) tasks Mando with rescuing the late Jabba the Hutt's son Rotta (voiced by Jeremy Allen White) and returning him to Jabba's twin successors. In exchange for this, the Hutts' promise Ward intel on the whereabouts of a mysterious warlord, with Mando begrudgingly accepting the assignment after a new Razor Crest ship sweetens the deal. 

Joined by his mini apprentice, Mando is directed to the moon Shakari, where he discovers Rotta pit fighting for crime-lord Janu (Jonny Coyne), Determined not to be judged by his father's tainted legacy or take part in the family business, Rotta enjoys newfound popularity as a fighter, making his extraction messier and more complicated than Mando anticipates. With Rotta disinterested in returning home and Janu unwilling to give up his prized competitor, Mando takes drastic measures, putting him and Grogu in harm's path. Only this time it's the foundling who's called upon to protect his adoptive father. 

In keeping with recent tradition for the spin-offs, this begins with a short title card rather than the franchise's iconic opening crawl, wisely distancing it from the other films and dropping us into the action right away. For fans of the series, a formal introduction is unnecessary while new viewers won't feel lost when Favreau and Filoni stick to the familiar formula, albeit with a few added flourishes.

The central mission to save Rotta is a good one that isn't bogged down by extraneous side quests, setting Mando on a collision course with three formidable villains, two of which share a connection to one of the original trilogy's more substantial characters, both in girth and importance. And though it's awkward seeing any member of the Hutt clan move (think Jabba in Lucas's '97 Special Edition) much less engage in combat, Rotta's backstory is certainly developed well enough. So even if there's no getting around his visual limitations as a muscular, intergalactic UFC fighter, White's vocal performance creates a sympathetic character, especially in scenes opposite Grogu. We're also treated to brief but humorous voice work from Martin Scorsese as a fearful Ardennian fry cook who nearly steals the film's first half.

Sigourney Weaver's role as Ward is smaller than advertised, to the point that some of her scenes in the trailers and commercials appear to have been cut. But in terms of kicking off the plot, the actress's fair, no-nonsense approach as an authority figure can still be appreciated, however briefly. As for Grogu, he kind of tags along for the ride during the first hour, engaging in his typically cute antics while Mando handles the heavy lifting, at least until a major development changes the course of things. 

Sixty minutes in, it feels as if this story's all wrapped up and the closing credits are ready to roll. Of course, we know that's not the case as Mando gets into deeper trouble escalating from his earlier decisions. And by necessity, Grogu will become more involved, giving the film its big payoff when he takes the initiative to rescue his dad. 

Despite a slow section where maybe too much time is spent with Grogu alone in the woods, everything does come together for an exciting finale. And those still complaining about Pedro Pascal's overexposure may want to prepare themselves for Mando's helmet coming off, as it did a couple of times already during the series' run. But how he loses it is thematically warranted, hardly lacking in either context or motivation. 

If Grogu's the real star, his closest competition might come from Oscar winning composer Ludwig Göransson, whose music here actually exceeds and builds on what he did on the show. And besides a return of that main title theme majestic enough to compete with John Williams' best, his electro-synth sounds interestingly highlight Mando and Grogu's excursion into Shakari's gritty fight pit. 

The biggest concern was always whether this would go a more cinematic route or safely play like an extended episode of the series. As a "two-parter" of sorts, it's clearly the latter, hypothetically ranking among the show's stronger entries. But in successfully harnessing the spirit of a series we'll probably never see again, you wonder why Disney couldn't even manage to announce they were shelving it. To this day, no one knows. Still, Favreau and Filoni get their act together to deliver a fun, tightly scripted adventure that recaptures much of the early magic. It's just a shame it didn't come sooner.                                   

The Fantastic Four: First Steps

Director: Matt Shakman
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Joseph Quinn, Julia Garner, Sarah Niles, Mark Gatiss, Natasha Lyonne, Paul Walter Hauser, Ralph Ineson, Matthew Wood
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

After previous attempts failed at capturing the magic its characters brought to the page, delivering even just a decent cinematic interpretation of Marvel's Fantastic Four grew needlessly difficult. And between an unreleased 90's version, two lackluster installments in the 00's and that abysmal 2015 reboot, the idea of giving it another go has largely been frowned upon. That is until a desire to fill out out the MCU's next phase prompted Disney to take an entirely new approach to the material. 

The end result is director Matt Shakman's The Fantastic Four: First Steps, a thrilling sci-fi adventure that succeeds in erasing unpleasant memories of series past. Boosted by spectacular effects and jaw-dropping production design, world building becomes as much a priority as the actual plot, which is also surprisingly strong. After a somewhat methodical start, it gains traction from a formidable pair of villains and a retro-futuristic aesthetic more comparable to The Jetsons than a Marvel comic book movie. And yes, that's a compliment. 

It's 1964 on Earth-828 as everyone celebrates the fourth anniversary of astronauts Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) and Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn) gaining superhuman abilities after being exposed to cosmic rays during a space mission. Collectively known as the "Fantastic Four, they're worldwide celebrities, having vanquished various supervillains while inventor Reed's technological contributions and Sue's diplomatic work positively reverberate through society. 

With Reed and Sue now expecting a baby that may or may not also possess superpowers, the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner) arrives, declaring Earth marked for destruction by planet devouring cosmic giant Galactus (Ralph Ineson). The team travels to space to stop him, learning the couple's unborn child has the ability to relieve Galactus of his insatiable, life sustaining appetite for consuming planets. Sensing that power, he offers to spare Earth, but only if they hand over the baby. With the public angrily rebelling at the possibility they'd save one child over an entire population, the foursome devise a plan to defeat this gargantuan threat. 

A lot of effort is put into wiping the slate clean and establishing these characters through comedic interplay, family bonding and 60's inspired newsreel footage. While not exactly an origin story, it leaves no stone unturned in showing what the team's been up to for the past four years, nearly going overboard with their introductions. But there's a reason for that, and even when some of the humor falls flat, we're too mesmerized by Kasra Farahani's mid-century set design and Jess Hall's vibrant cinematography to notice. Between the lava lamps, curved architecture, bold colors, and sleek jumpsuits, it all invokes a visual feel no recent Marvel outing has come close to matching. 

At first, we get brief glimpses of the powers even viewers with only limited exposure to the films and comics will recognize. Reed's elasticity, Sue's invisibility, Johnny's ability to generate fire and Ben Grimm's superhuman strength as the giant, hulking The Thing will all come into play once Shalla-Bal's bursts onto the scene. And for all the complaints about a female Silver Silver, it's worth noting that Garner's mo-cap performance and appearance in the role might be the film's strongest aspect. 

Everything about the Surfer's presentation just hits, from her opening speech, to the connection she has with Johnny and even that brief flashback. So while it's easy to commiserate with fans demanding a male for consistency's sake, the blame can't be leveled at Garner, who overdelivers in a part only bolstered by the impressive effects. 

Kirby's Sue/Invisible Woman carries much of the film's physical and emotional heavy lifting when confronted with a dangerous proposition that puts her baby at risk. She not only benefits from an arc that really kicks into overdrive late in the game, but by encompassing how most envision Sue Storm to look and act based on the comics. With Pascal, its clear the producers went with the safest, most accessible choice for Reed. This combined with the actor's ubiquitous presence of late helped create the perception Marvel may phone this in. Only they don't, and Pascal's take on a genius who's smart enough to acknowledge he may not have all the answers ends up being better than its gotten credit for. 

Bachrach's self conscious but gentle giant Ben Grimm mostly tracks with prior incarnations, though he benefits from much improved VFX that emphasizes The Thing's monstrous appearance. A charismatic Quinn puts enough of his own spin on Johnny/Human Torch, giving the character a more likable, comedic slant without sacrificing the heroic aspects that define him. Unfortunately, despite ads implying the second coming of R2D2, robot assistant H.E.R.B.I.E. (voiced by Matthew Wood) is relegated to window dressing while Paul Walter Hauser's Mole Man merely serves as a comedic foil in the last act. 

The finale does work, as the team attempts to take out Galactus, who robotically marches through the streets with enormity and purpose that recalls a more sadistic Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Of course, there's mid-credits scene to dissect, but since we already know when the four are showing up again, the bigger questions surround how. But regardless of what follows, Shakman and company diligently stick to the task at hand, successfully re-establishing Marvel's "First Family" following a string of bad luck over the years.

Stylistically straying from other MCU entries, this functions well as a standalone, with no prior research or homework required to enjoy the ride. And tightly clocking in at under 120 minutes, this doesn't overstay its welcome, avoiding the burn out that's accompanied some of the studio's nearly three hour endurance tests. Effectively prioritizing story and spectacle, First Steps lifts the creative curse, doing justice to these characters and unlocking the potential we always suspected this series had.                              

Eddington

Director: Ari Aster
Starring: Joaquin Phoenix, Pedro Pascal, Emma Stone, Austin Butler, Luke Grimes, Deirdre O'Connell, Micheal Ward, Amélie Hoeferle, Clifton Collins Jr., William Belleau, Matt Gomez Hidaka, Cameron Mann, Rachel de la Torre
Running Time: 149 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

A local mayoral race turns ugly in writer/director Ari Aster's ambitiously bizarre Eddington, a film that holds a mirror up to all the social and political turmoil over the past five years. And for those who patiently waited for a big screen effort to tackle the pandemic and all the controversial chaos surrounding it, your day has come. Now with a little distance to reflect on that tragic absurdity, the creative mind behind Heriditary, Midsommar and Beau is Afraid responds with a gloriously inscrutable mess that ties viewers in knots trying to decipher its intentions. 

Part multi-character study, part Western, part crime thriller and all satire, it's set in a universe where everyone's a lunatic, regardless of where their beliefs or convictions fall. It's also unpredictable, surprising by just how much its initially limited scope expands once the complications pile on, revealing the worst in human nature. Not without its flaws and prone to flying off the rails, Aster entertainingly makes up for it with some wild performances and an off-the-wall premise that cleverly skewers the current culture wars.

It's 2020 and Mayor Ted Garcia (Pedro Pascal) has implemented a lockdown in the town of Eddington, New Mexico in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, enforcing mask mandates supported by the Governor. This policy raises the ire of sheriff Joe Cross (Joaquin Phoenix), who believes it's trampling on citizen's freedoms and makes plans to run against Ted in the upcoming election, despite disapproval from his emotionally unstable wife Louise (Emma Stone) and her conspiracy theorist mom, Dawn (Deirdre O' Connell). 

While Joe unsuccessfully tries to maintain law and order alongside officers Guy (Luke Grimes) and Michael (Micheal Ward), Ted's son Eric (Matt Gomez Hidaka) and his friend Brian (Cameron Mann) join the town's Black Lives Matter protests to win the affections of progressively liberal classmate Sarah (Amélie Hoeferle). With protests getting out of hand, Louise and Dawn inviting enigmatic cult leader Jefferson Peak (Austin Butler) into Joe's home as he tries to derail Ted's re-election bid. But when a single, shocking act of violence occurs, more trouble arrives at Eddington's doorstep, unexpectedly threatening the lives of its residents.

That the film's first twenty minutes centers entirely around an ongoing argument over masks should give you an idea what we're in for. It's clear in the very first scene when Joe's reprimanded by neighboring law enforcement before getting into another confrontation with Mayor Ted at a bar and supermarket, lighting the fuse that further ignites their bitter rivalry. And they have a long history, most of which stems from Joe's inability to get over Louise's previous relationship with Ted. But once Joe clumsily declares his mayoral candidacy out of pure spite, all bets are off, just as Eddington spirals out of control following  George Floyd's murder. 

In taking us back to a year we still haven't really moved past, the narrative evolves into a feature length South Park episode where only extremes exist and every group's a target for mocking. Whether it's anti-maskers or white BLM protesters, Aster get his shots in, and while a lot of the characterizations are intentionally exaggerated for satirical effect, this wouldn't work without the recognizable truths accompanying it. But it's Joe's complete lack of impulse control and common sense that causes him to make a spectacularly stupid decision, opening the floodgates to hell for his small town.

Between murders, racism, anti-racism, police corruption, conspiracy theories, cults and Antifa, Aster throws everything he can at the wall and a lot of it actually sticks. Against your better judgment, it's tough to look way, especially during a violent, action packed shootout that recalls A24's other politically charged take on the times, Alex Garland's underappreciated Civil War. But where that film had a clearer, more sober mission statement, this fluctuates wildly between over-the-top satire and drama, often calling into question how it all fits. 

It's really the direction and performances that hold it together, further solidifying Joaquin Phoenix's twisted genius in the kind of quirky, eccentric role no one does better, flawlessly juggling the dangerous and comical at once. A somewhat underutilized Stone and Butler steal the scenes they're given while the perfectly cast Pascal justifies his alleged overexposure with a terrific supporting turn as this potentially crooked mayor in bed with big tech. 

Inching toward a violent conclusion with no absolutes and only shades of grey, this highlights just how far the political landscape has shifted since over a decade ago, when much of this material would have played as pure fantasy. Even if a twist late in the game forces viewers to reevaluate what they've seen in the context of a JD Vance or Kyle Rittenhouse origin story, attempting to extract a right or left wing agenda seems beside the point. While spitting out enough ideas to leave us wondering what it's trying to say, Aster instead captures the anxiety and paranoia gripping the country with an equally divisive film that's well worth the watch.                                        

Materialists

Director: Celine Song 
Starring: Dakota Johnson, Chris Evans, Pedro Pascal, Zoë Winters, Marin Ireland, Dasha Nekrasova, Louisa Jacobson, Eddie Cahill, Sawyer Spielberg, Joseph Lee, John Magaro
Running Time: 117 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Going by its wildly misleading trailers, you might expect Celine Song's Materialists to be an unremarkable rom-com centering around a love triangle full of goofy misunderstandings and tired tropes. What we get instead is a compelling, shrewdly written romantic drama with an IQ twice the size of other offerings in the genre. And that's evident in a scene where its matchmaker protagonist lists all the reasons she's wrong for her date, spouting off the same calculations and criteria she uses with her clients. But when a similar scenario plays out later with a different guy, so much has happened in between she's no longer the same person, her entire perspective altered by a single event.

Song, whose 2023 semi-autobiographical debut Past Lives quietly landed a Best Picture nomination, hasn't exactly gone more mainstream with her follow-up, nor has she "sold out," an especially ironic assertion considering the film's themes. In fact, it's refreshingly outside the box for a commercial release featuring these stars, all of whom play real, relatable characters who can't stop themselves from making believably human mistakes. Ultimately though, it's a timely examination about connecting, told through an emotionally detached woman so skilled at her job that it affects her entire outlook on relationships.

Successful matchmaker Lucy Mason (Johnson) works at Adore, an elite company in New York City that sets clients up based on a number of specific criteria, including age, income, height and level of attractiveness. A self proclaimed "voluntary celibate," she's committed to being alone, unless a really rich guy comes along and changes her mind. But while meticulously ensuring her clients' prospective dates check all the right boxes, Lucy struggles to find a match for the recently rejected Sophie (Zoë Winters), who she's come to view as her own personal challenge.    

Frustrated by everyone's unrealistic standards for a long-term partner, Lucy attends a client's wedding and meets the groom's wealthy brother Harry Castillo (Pedro Pascal), who's immediately more interested in her than signing up for a dating service. After charming Lucy over, she reluctantly agrees to go out with him, just as her ex-boyfriend John Finch (Chris Evans), an aspiring actor, reappears, jogging up memories of their break-up years ago over money issues. But as Lucy's relationship with the seemingly perfect Harry grows more serious, an unexpected catastrophe occurs, forcing the cynical matchmaker to take a closer look at everything she thought she knew about life and love.

Methodically building her story and its main character, Song kicks this off with a 2001-inspired opening that shows a prehistoric cave couple committing to each other. But as opposed to apes, these early humans are further along in their development, discovering what they want and how that affection can be bought. So when the action seamlessly cuts to busy, bustling present day New York, we soon find out just how little has changed, forming the basis for how Lucy and others can often cripple under  societal expectations. 

Lucy's pitches to prospective clients is unusually strong, in no small part due to a blunt delivery that convinces us she makes them feel important and seen. Adopting an almost mathematical method when it comes dating, there's no denying her commitment, which sets the stage for the film's ethical dilemma. And from the moment she first appears, Johnson owns the screen with a sincerity that's business-like, but hard to fake, even when the character's lying. Because of this, the setup's whole appeal comes in us wondering what in Lucy's past led her down a path where statistics trump feelings. 

Upon meeting her match in Harry, a conflict develops between who Lucy was and what she wants to be, doing everything in her power to avoid the attraction. But as someone who's also in a profession revolving around facts and figures, he sees right through her defense mechanism, demonstrating how little she actually differs from the clients she goes to bat for on a daily basis. 

It's all about feeling valued, and while Harry definitely does that for Lucy, John's reemergence does something else entirely, and it isn't all positive, especially considering he hasn't changed at all since both were aspiring actors financially struggling to make it in their twenties. Sharing a cheap apartment with a couple of aimless roommates, he now working as a caterer and waiter as Lucy tries to convince herself she's moved on. 

Under normal circumstances, we'd have the ideal ingredients for a love triangle where the career woman is torn between her flawed ex and the rich, charming playboy. But that's all a red herring for the major incident that shakes Lucy to her core, forcing her to take serious stock. And though the film undergoes a titanic shift that nearly takes this into thriller territory, Song retains command of the controls, asking a lot of Johnson, who really comes through with a versatile turn. 

While Johnson's been grinding it out in populist projects and edgy indie fare, this feels like the best balance of both, prompting audiences to see her in a new light and get a glimpse of just how adaptable she is as an actress. And for all the flak Pascal gets for popping up in everything these days, his portrayal of the suave, direct Harry serves as an ideal reminder why, showing us exactly what he adds in the right part.

Appearing to have it all, Harry carries a secret that encapsulates the picture's materialistic slant and masks people wear. He's a decent guy, just not someone who takes his own advice, complicating a process he even admits should be easy and effortless. Evans' likable John wears his heart on his sleeve over how things with Lucy ended, but that rift is as much about his insecurity as her judgmentalism. It's only when they're given an opportunity to meet in the middle about their problems that a chance comes to finally settle them.  

After getting the impression Lucy's smart and talented enough to do anything, it isn't long before we're asking why she's doing this. And soon enough she's exploring the same question herself in a prescient film that says a lot, but gets its biggest boost from Johnson, who delivers her most nuanced work to date. Far from predictable in either tone or execution, she's the anchor for a thought provoking look at compatibility that goes layers deeper than you'd expect from its plot description.             

Drive-Away Dolls

Director: Ethan Coen
Starring: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein, Colman Domingo, Pedro Pascal, Bill Camp, Joey Slotnick, C.J. Wilson, Annie Gonzalez, Matt Damon
Running Time: 84 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

Drive-Away Dolls is an entertainingly bad comedy from a talented director who makes it more tolerable than it has any right being. So much so that while watching you can't help but consider just how much worse this could have turned out with someone other than Ethan Coen at the controls. It's primarily about this bond between two lesbian friends, with the crime caper they've unwittingly walked into finishing a close second. And while Coen and co-writer Tricia Cooke intended this to be released as Henry James' Drive-Away Dykes, it's no surprise to anyone why the studio wouldn't gamble on that title, which is actually more in line with the film's wacky tone. 

The movie's at its lowest when drowning in crude humor that occasionally feels dated even for the decade it's supposed to take place. But the real kicker is that the characters are fully developed and a smattering of jokes land, even if cringing viewers may find themselves wishing it were somehow less polished. Maybe if this wasn't well made, the scene transitions weren't so inventive or it didn't contain such good performances, an outright dismissal would feel easier. Unfortunately, it's still a mess, straddling genres while seemingly targeting two entirely different audiences.

It's 1999 in Philadelphia when Jamie (Qualley) and her best friend Marian (Viswanathan) make plans for a road trip to Tallahassee, Florida after Jamie's ugly break-up with girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein). But when drive away car service owner Curlie (Bill Camp) accidentally leases the girls a vehicle already booked by criminals Arliss (Joey Sotnick), Flint (C.J. Wilson) and The Chief (Colman Domingo), they're unknowingly stuck with cargo stolen from an eccentric collector (Pedro Pascal). 

While Jamie tries to get the straight-laced Marian to loosen up by taking detours to lesbian bars and parties, a determined Arliss and Flint are hot on their trail, determined to retrieve that mysterious suitcase and bag in the car's trunk, both of which are scandalously linked to conservative Senator Gary Channel (Matt Damon). But the inept, bumbling crooks are in for more than they bargained for as Jamie and Marian remain a few steps ahead. 

Playing more like a parody of a Coen brothers picture than the genuine article, it's best compared to their more satirical efforts like Burn After Reading or Hail Caesar!, even if shades of Fargo unexpectedly sneak in. While a cleverly shot opening sequence featuring Pedro Pascal's character hints at more comic intrigue than we actually get, certain details involving the retrieval of this contraband are funny. Most notably the scenes with these feuding, incompetent criminals and a memorable encounter with a local girls' soccer team. Beanie Feldstein also gives an off-the-wall supporting performance as Jamie's crazed ex that feels like the kind of role her brother would have played in 2007.  

Everything takes a backseat to the relationship between polar opposites Jamie and Marian, who realize through their witty banter and misadventures that they share more in common than originally assumed. That most of those exchanges pay off with some sort of visual sex gag is no fault of the actresses, who do their best with the material. In Viswanathan's case, she rises above this, giving a more sarcastically muted turn that grounds the movie and gives it a moral center. Sporting a Texas drawl, Qualley has fun as Jamie, and while the character is too much, Viswanathan at least ensures Marian's exasperated demeanor reflects that.

In addition to a really bizarre, uncredited big name celebrity cameo, Matt Damon makes the most of his brief screen time as a Senator on the brink of being embarrassingly exposed in more ways than one. But anyone expecting a mystery on the level of Pulp Fiction's briefcase may be disappointed by a reveal that's disgustingly humorous, but par the course for this script. Amusing to a point, you just can't help but roll your eyes, realizing how it sums up the whole effort in a nutshell.

Clocking in at a bearably brisk 84 minutes, Drive-Away Dolls is a minor letdown that ranks on the lower end of either Coen brothers' filmography, managing at least to team up two up and coming actresses who deliver the goods. But fans anticipating another cult classic should probably readjust their expectations to prepare for something closer to a queer American Pie. Everyone else will just be left scratching their heads, wondering why this didn't quite come together like it should.    

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Director: Tom Gormican
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Pedro Pascal, Sharon Horgan, Tiffany Haddish, Ike Barinholtz, Alessandra Mastronardi, Neil Patrick Harris, Lily Sheen, Paco León, Katrin Vankova, David Gordon Green
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Tom Gormican's The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is a tale of two movies, both starring Nicolas Cage as himself, or at least some version of it. One film is the meta fantasy we anticipated from its insane trailer, while the other spoofs the actor's big budget action spectacles like Face/Off and The Rock. Actually, nearly everything Cage has ever done is referenced, and even though the portions exploring the psyche of one of our most fascinatingly weird and gifted performers surpasses a somewhat formulaic plot, both merge at a beautiful place in the end. Gormican even squeezes a bromance in there that feels completely on brand for star who always functioned as the ideal vessel for obsessive fandom. None of this cuts too deep, but remains completely self-aware in the way you'd want a Nic Cage film about himself to be, comically digging into the neurosis, insecurity and narcissism that accompanies a majorly recognizable star wrestling with a mid-life crisis. 

Those elements dovetail nicely into real-life criticisms of Cage working non-stop on mindless action vehicles for big paydays. But it's to his and Gormican's credit that the script doesn't shy away from that, even going so far as to revolve the entire story around it. As expected, we get what's probably a highly fictionalized version of the actor, which is almost beside the point when what matters is that the Cage on screen matches how audiences and fans perceive him in reality. It's a huge distinction the movie's smart enough to recognize, at times even shielding it from criticism as it ironically emerges to be one of the safer, more accessible mainstream pictures Cage has recently made. And yet it still remains delightfully odd since so much of his popularity stems from being able to infuse that unmistakable eccentricity into all of his work, regardless of genre. It'll draw the most comparisons to Adaptation in how it occupies a vaguely similar kind of meta-verse, but this time he's the subject, with Easter eggs, career call backs and inside jokes to spare. It's a real treat for both diehard and casual Cage fans, neither of whom will walk away disappointed.

Things aren't going well for legendary Hollywood actor Nicolas Cage. Having just been passed over for a career rejuvenating role in the latest David Gordon Green project, his relationship with ex-wife Olivia (Sharon Horgan) is strained and he's just made an embarrassing spectacle of himself at daughter Addy's (Lily Sheen) sweet sixteen party. Mentally tormented by a younger, more successful version of himself, his agent Richard Fink (Neil Patrick Harris) suggests he take million dollar payday to be the guest of honor at billionaire playboy and Cage superfan Javi Gutierrez's (Pedro Pascal) birthday party in Majorca. 

Despite Cage seriously contemplating retirement and wanting to be anywhere else, he takes the gig, eventually warming up to Javi as they bond over their shared love of films and even plan to develop a movie together based on Javi's screenplay. But when Cage is cornered by CIA agents Vivian (Tiffany Haddish) and Martin (Ike Barinholtz) with information that his new friend is a wanted arms dealer behind the kidnapping of a politician's daughter (Katrin Vankova), the actor's reluctantly roped into going undercover. Now suddenly the star of his own real-life action adventure, Cage needs to tap into what he's learned in his most famous roles to escape this mess and protect his own family.

An opening kidnap scene with Con-Air as its backdrop confirms that whatever we hoped to get from this wacky premise will be delivered, while mirroring back at us our own relationship with Cage's most memorable roles. Everything from Captain Corelli's Mandolin, The Croods II, Leaving Las Vegas to Guarding Tess are acknowledged in surprisingly funny ways that feel clever rather than forced, saying as much about fans' opinions of these titles and the actor as it does Cage himself. But hardly just a retrospective homage, the script's at its best when attempting to get inside the star's head as he wrestles with personal and professional failings. The former is a bigger problem since any attempts to connect with daughter Lily involve him shaming her into sharing his strange obsessions, like a love for the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. His one-sided bonding attempts are met with exasperated eye rolls from her and mom Olivia, as both doing little to hide their contempt for years of neglect.

It's admittedly difficult to picture Cage having an ex-wife and daughter who are this normal and well- adjusted having been under the celebrity microscope for so long. But that's partly why it works since it would be too uncomfortably realistic and detrimental to the story if they acknowledged his multiple ex-wives who were often decades younger. Besides feeling like a cheap shot and clashing with the film's tone, him instead having a likable and relatable ex-wife and daughter disappointed in his behavior was definitely the way to go. It helps set up a payoff later when Cage has to step up to protect his family, showing signs of the father and husband they always hoped he'd be. 

In both purpose and execution, this has to be one of the better uses of de-aging technology in the past few years, as Cage argues incessantly with the imagined "Nicky," (credited as Nicolas Kim Coppola) a young, brash, fame-hungry version of himself circa his Wild at Heart and Honeymoon in Vegas era. He's crazy Cage on overdrive, chastising the actor about how much more famous and successful he used to be while preying on the his biggest insecurities. But luckily, new buddy Javi's admiration  knows no bounds, as proven by his shrine room dedicated to Cage's career, complete with a life-size Castor Troy wax figure.

Continuing a streak that began with The Mandalorian and continued into WW84, Pedro Pascal again proves his versatility as either hero or villain, almost stealing this out from under the actor it's supposed to be about. As an overexcited child who's finally gotten to meet his hero, he's the movie's beating heart, playing Javi as a creepily endearing ode to fandom itself, letting viewers vicariously celebrate the oddness of this one-of-a-kind pop culture icon through him. While a couple of their misadventures, drug-induced excursions and improvisational exercises together run longer than necessary (adding about 10-15 minutes of bloat to the film), that's forgiven since Cage and Pascal have such a great chemistry, geeking out at every turn over movies and, of course, their favorite movie star. 

Cage's performance is pitch perfect, bringing great comic timing and self-loathing to a character that's him, though not quite. There's also an effective payoff to Nick's ineptitude as an undercover CIA mole being forced to turn on his best friend and maybe the only person who truly understands the enigma that's his life. The movie knows what we want, delivering a few swerves before arriving at a third act with murder, disguises, explosions, betrayals, insanity and a really great surprise cameo. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent still may not be as crazy as even the gentlest of Cage's films, but it couldn't exist without them, no matter which incarnation of the actor you prefer.                            

Wonder Woman 1984

Director: Patty Jenkins
Starring: Gal Gadot, Chris Pine, Kristen Wiig, Pedro Pascal, Robin Wright, Connie Nielsen, Lilly Aspell, Kristoffer Polaha, Lucian Perez, Gabriella Wilde
Running Time: 151 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Wonder Woman 1984 opens with a great sequence of a young Diana Prince (Lilly Aspell) competing in a triathalon-style athletic event on Themyscira. It's probably one of the more exciting and thematically relevant openings to a superhero entry in a long time, setting the bar extremely high for whatever follows. Racing against older, more experienced gladiators than herself, she takes a shortcut, attempting to cheat to secure a win. This doesn't go well for the future warrior, but perfectly sets the table for rest of the story, which eventually introduces a 1984 that can really only be seen through the prism of present-day. And in an an effort to depict the toxic selfishness and individualism running rampant in both decades, director and co-writer Patty Jenkins delivers a sequel that's actually about something. 

While that ambition doesn't always translate into creative greatness in a conventional sense, this is an effort that's ridiculously eager to please and entertaining in all the ways a new Wonder Woman entry should be. 2017's reboot of the franchise proved that Jenkins had a strong handle on what exactly this character should be, and now freed from handling the responsibility of an origin story, she lets loose. While the action's set in the '80's, it also carries with it many of the qualities that would accompany a big budget comic book movie that came out during that era, throwing a lot of elements against the wall with a cheeky tone. Most of it sticks, in no small part due to a plot that's silly beyond belief, but executed with enough flare and confidence that you can't help but respect her for going all the way with it.

It's 1984 and Diana Prince (Gal Gadot) is working as a cultural anthropologist at the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C., while also moonlighting as Wonder Woman when necessary. After encountering the shy, awkward new museum crypto-zoologist, Barbara Ann Minerva (Kristen Wiig), the two bond over antiquities and become fast friends, with the socially invisible Barbara envious of Diana's intelligence, beauty and confidence. But when both come upon a mysterious rock from a burglary they're able to eventually identify as a "Dreamstone," its Latin inscription reveals it to be capable of granting the holder a single wish. For Diana, that wish would be for her deceased love Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) to be alive, while the ignored, insecure Barbara wants only to be just like Diana. 

It turns out both wishes carry more baggage than expected, along with some dangerous trade-offs. Enter sleazy, failing oil businessman and TV personality Max Lord (Pedro Pascal) who, posing as a museum donor, looks to get his hands on the stone, planning to make a wish that could cause disastrous worldwide repercussions if it's successfully granted. With Max using Barbara as a pawn in his evil plan, Wonder Woman is faced with a debilitating decision, forced to choose between two unthinkable options in order to protect society from destroying itself.   

The biggest difference between this and the fairly praised first film is most obviously its setting, taking place nearly three quarters of a century later, Jenkins takes full advantage of the era to deliver a fish-out-of-water story of Diana attempting to find her barings without Steve in new, unfamilar territory. This opens the door for a lot of visual gags and jokes centered around the mid 80's, to the point you'd think this was a lost long-form episode of Stranger Things, even featuring a mall fight to start things off. While it's more of a corny, cartoonish version of the decade than that series, it still works really well since the actual plot is an ideal fit for the era during which it takes place, with Max's insatiable greed and Barbara's desperation in providing its driving engine. 

The Dreamstone's introduction doesn't initially inspire confidence the plotline can sustain enough narrative momentum, especially in regards to Steve's sudden resurrection. In some ways his body swapping return feels like the ultimate deus ex machina until we get an explanation of how it fits into the bigger picture. But it's still fair to say that the character feels more like Diana's appendage or sidekick this time around, reappearing with far less agency than he did in the first film. Due to these circumstances, the reunion itself doesn't emotionally land as solidly as it should, as Pine's sort of hung out to dry for extended stretches. If Steve's arc is the weak link, the idea itself eventually turns into an intriguing one for Diana when she has to face the true ramifications of her wish. 

Whatever may be sacrificed with Diana and Steve is made up ten-fold with a surprisingly involving pair of top-notch villains. Kristen Wiig, whose big screen mileage can vary depending on the role, is pitch perfect as this mousy museum employee who finally has a chance to be noticed and respected in a trajectory that's very similar to Selina Kyle/Catwoman's in Batman Returns. Her slow-burning transformation into Cheetah is built with just the right dose of empathy, moving at an ideal pace and peaking exactly when it needs to. Claiming she's the best thing in this movie wouldn't be inaccurate, but The Mandalorian's Pedro Pascal sure gives her a run for it as Max Lord, a crooked oil magnate obviously patterned as a hybrid of Gordon Gekko and Donald Trump, with heavier emphasis on the latter. 

Pascal really goes for the jugular with a maniacal, over-the-top performance that contains some quieter, subtler acting choices, investing what was probably intended as a broad parody with surprising depth. He makes this guy so deliriously full of himself that it's kind of a joy to watch, completely washing away whatever preconceived expectations fans may have had about his casting. One of the more impactful sub-plots involves Max's relationship with his young son Alistair (Lucian Perez), adding another interesting layer to this diabolical, larger-than-life scam artist turned deranged cult leader. 

If the third act is where most superhero endings falter, this one actually gains quite a bit of steam when the enormity of Max's plan comes to fruition, along with Wonder Woman's eventual showdown with Cheetah. The most resonant aspect of its concluding forty minutes is how the Dreamstone's powers, or more accurately Max's abuse of them, leads to the emergence of another villain: Us. With him preying upon and manipulating everyone into indulging in their basest instincts, the script takes a timely turn that's sure make more than a few viewers do a double take, if not outright squirm in their seats at what's unfolding.

Featuring two wildly entertaining supervillains that compliment each other surprisingly well, this doesn't feel overstuffed or self-indulgent, despite its extended length. Gal Gadot serves as its effortlessly steady anchor, impressing again in the role she was born to play, after Hollywood spent decades trying and failing to find the ideal actress for it. Of all the tentpole comic book franchise leads, whether it be DC or Marvel, she feels the least replaceable, lending even more credibility to a series that truly "gets" its character. Without discounting its minor issues, I'd still probably take WW84 over its predecessor simply because it's more fun, utilizing its setting and time period to deliver the rare superhero sequel that feels less like a cash grab than a smart, purposeful continuation.

The Mandalorian (Season 2)

Creator: Jon Favreau
Starring: Pedro Pascal, Giancarlo Esposito, Gina Carano, Carl Weathers, Ming-Na Wen, Temuera Morrison, Katee Sackhoff, Rosario Dawson, Mark Hamill,Timothy Olyphant, Bill Burr, Mercedes Varnado
Original Airdate: 2020

**The Following Review Contains Major Spoilers For The Second Season of 'The Mandalorian' **

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

While not among those disappointed by the frequently maligned big screen Star Wars sequels, it's still hard to deny Disney was always walking a thin line with them, regardless of the result. It's tricky balancing the needs of a notoriously cranky adult fanbase desperate for their nostalgia fix with the desires of kids and more casual watchers clammoring for fresh content. What we got was a battle of wills, wherein an unspoken compromise had to be reached where there could be certain callbacks and a reliance on classic, iconic characters just so long as it was in service of newer faces and more forward-looking stories. 

Even if Disney fared much better than they've been credited for in their efforts, it can't be ignored that neither contingent of fans walked away completely fulfilled. If returning the franchise to its heyday of the late 70's and early 80's by reigniting the feelings that sorrounded the original trilogy was already a tall order, using it to effectively lay the groundwork for Star Wars' future would be close to impossible.

So how did creator Jon Favreau, with his only mildly anticipated Disney Plus series The Mandalorian, manage to do again for this franchise what J.J. Abrams, Rian Johnson and even George Lucas himself at one point couldn't? You have to think he first probably recognized just how burnt out even the saga's biggest supporters had become after an inundation of big screen content that left everyone wanting a break. If all the sequels and spin-offs were universally beloved that would be one thing, but with wildly mixed notices, something had to change to justify this besides receipts or it wouldn't last.

The best received spin-off, 2016's Rogue One, worked because it felt as if it had temporarily released us from the shackles of this mythology, demonstrating that there's plenty of fringe universe yet to be tapped (through novelizations, games and the animated series), featuring fresh characters and missions unencumbered by baggage or expectations. And to balance things out, the film also marked until now what had been Disney's most successful use of a classic character with Vader's sensational corridor rampage, showcasing him at the peak of his powers in way that completely complimented the plot. 

When the pilot episode of The Mandalorian premiered in November of last year, Favreau revealed the magic ingredient."The Child" (AKA "Baby Yoda") In wisely withholding the reveal in all the show's pre-release promotional advertising, fans were reminded what it's like to be surprised, as lone Mandalorian Bounty Hunter Din Djarin (Pedro Pascal) looks inside the floating carriage to discover the "asset" he's been hired to protect exceeded our highest expectations, causing hearts to grow about ten sizes that day. And that was it. 

Taking place five years after the events of Return of the Jedi, the series debuted as the perfect blend of familiar and new, using the remnants of a beloved but somewhat still mysterious character in Yoda to posit the theory that there could be others like him. And it's accompanied by a lot of possibilities when one of them is a scared, occasionally mischievous, but adorable alien baby of about 50 years-old. Even while partially digitized, the creation harkens a return to the realistic, practical effects and puppetry that defined the original films, while also revisiting one of the series' most prevalent themes of parentage and fatherhood on an even deeper level.

As just the starting point for an initial season that Favreau and producer Dave Filoni spared no creative expense on, Mando begrudgingly protects the Child, who has yet to master his Jedi Force powers, even as his gift could become a curse if exploited by others. That's the intention of a dangerous Moff Gideon (Giancarlo Esposito) who's attempting to restore order to the Galaxy after the fall of the Empire, eyeing this force-wielding baby as his path to do it. 

If the show had been mildly, but unfairly criticized for anything during its first season, it was for settling into a procedural format during which Mando, with Child in tow, would embark on missions of the week with or for various characters. These weekly adventures were frequently transactional, featuring an exchange wherein Mando would reluctantly work with someone who couldn't be completely trusted in order to gain something he needs. 

Some of these forty-minute weekly missions were undeniably better than others, but the world and character building that took place in all of them proved essential in getting to the Season 2 end game, retroactively resulting in an even stronger set of episodes than its inaugural season. And this format comes as a relief for returning the franchise to its roots as a space Western while temporarily shelving that "big picture" blueprint, supressing concerns about how everything and everyone will fit into some larger plan fans will complain about. If a weight was lifted by first making the show good and then taking it from there, it's still kind of astounding all the small and even considerably more substantial details Favreau gets right. Whether that's a soaring Ludwig Göransson score that's up there with anything John Williams has previously done, or the storyboard artwork incorporated into the closing credits.  

What was clear late in the first season, but comes into even sharper focus here, is that Mando's strict, unwavering commitment to upholding a rigid code is cracking as his attachment to the Child grows, now seeking out a Jedi in hopes of returning the little one to his home, wherever that may be. The story heads in the direction we assumed it probably would and while an eventual showdown with Moff Gideon and his Darksaber surely looms, the path there is accompanied by more thrills than expected, along with some unpredictable bumps along the road. After enlisting the help of Mandelorian warriors Bo-Katan (Katee Sackoff, reprising her Star Wars: Clone Wars role) and Koska Reeves (Mercedes "Sasha Banks" Varnado) to locate this Jedi, Mando briefly reunites with Cara Dune (Gina Carano) and Greef Karga (Carl Weathers) before heading forest planet of Corvus in the series' most revealing episode, the Filoni-directed "Chapter 13: The Jedi."

In introducing Ahsoka Tano (a pefectly cast Rosario Dawson) into the live action canon, a bomb is dropped in terms of the Child's background that actually gives at least one of the prequels a reason for existing, while revealing his given name. That Favreau manages to escape disappointing everyone with this reveal is noteworthy since it couldn't have been easy with expectations running so feverishly high. Grogu. Short, simple and sounds very Star Wars-like. That's all you can ask for. It fits him. Supposedly, Favreau already knew it very early on in the first season and it just became a matter of when to pull the trigger, a decision made that much harder when Baby Yoda became a worldwide sensation. But the Band-Aid had to be ripped off at some point and this sure went down a lot easier than anticipated. 

Ahsoka can't train Grogu since he's just too attached to Mando and she senses fear in him, the first hint that his egg eating, cookie stealing shenanigans may not have been as cute and innocent as it appeared, suggesting the possibility we may have another little Anakin on our hands, tempted by the dark side of the Force. But all hope isn't lost since she knows of a Jedi who can train him. Maybe. And with that comes the season's big mystery. Who is it? The possibilities should seem limited, yet are kind of endless when you start running through all the candidates. 

Thanks to Ahsoka, Mando's comes into possesion of a Beskar steel spear we know he'll need, and against whom. The indelible image of a meditative Grogu sorrounded by an energy field reaching out for a connection at Tython's seeing stone eventually makes him a sitting duck for Gideon's Dark Troopers, giant black Transformer-looking droids that make the human-occupied Stormtroopers look like Ewoks. While the undeniable tragedy of the Robert Rodriguez-directed "Chapter 14: The Tragedy" is Grogu's kidnapping, the destruction of the Razor Crest ship at the hands of Gideon could easily compete with it given it's well-earned status as the franchise's most identifiable transport since the Millenium Falcon. 

As far as surprises go, the return of Fennec Shand (Ming-Na Wen) after being left for dead in the desert in last seaon's "Chapter 5: The Gunslinger" an expected, but welcome, especially considering who's with her. In another great example of how Favreau just "gets it," he knows that bringing back Boba Fett (Temuera Morrison) after his sarlacc demise in Return of the Jedi is a no-brainer, because, why not?  If you could bother explaining away Emperor Palpatine's resurrection, this is almost downright logical. And why wouldn't you take the opportunity to do something more substantial with a seemingly minor character who became a major fan favorite by standing silently in a cool uniform for two movies? Now, with a detailed backstory and sense of importance that isn't merely speculative, we get what we always wanted.

Slightly older and more weathered, Boba demands his father and grandfather's armor back from an unwilling Mando, who got it from Mos Pelgo Marshal Cobb Vanth (Timothy Olyphant) in "Chapter 9: The Marshal." And so another one of the series' famous trades leads to Jabba's former bounty hunter once again donning the helmet and armor to help Mando kick some Stormtrooper ass. After being programmed for disappointment for so long, it's almost surreal to see such a bold creative choice pay off this well, both in concept and execution. And it's unlikely anyone could claim they ever expected to see Boba Fett take a tornado DDT from Sasha Banks.

Arriving well-prepared with the help of Boba, Fennec, Dune, Bo-Katan and Koska to save Grogu ("Chapter 16: The Rescue"), Mando's  showdown with Moff Gideon carries an anticipation unmatched by any recent Star Wars battle, largely because of the stakes. Darksaber vs. Beskar Spear. It has to be acknowledged that Giancarlo Esposito's performance during this episode represents his best work of the series, alternating between pure, unadulterated evil and a maniacal glee, gloating at knowing a key detail concerning the power of the Darksaber that will undoubtedly carry into next season.

With an entire fleet of Dark Troopers for the group to fight off, the arrival of that sole X-Wing carries an overwhelming sense of importance the second we see it pull up, signifying the arrival of our mystery Jedi. And it's him. They actually did it. 

Before we even see the hood, the green saber or the glove, we know it's Luke Skywalker because, of course, it had to be. In trying to come up with all the reasons this couldn't work, we ignored the one obvious explanation why it does. Yoda trained Luke and now student must become master and train Grogu, who deserves the most important character in the Star Wars canon clearing his schedule. The kid's earned it.  

Anyone other than Luke would feel second-rate, and however anyone feels about his treatment in The Last Jedi, it takes only a minute or two before it's erased from our minds as he effortlessly slays Dark Troopers left and right in a chills-inducing sequence that brilliantly calls back to his father's aforementioned Rogue One appearance. With his hand on the monitor, Grogu looks on in wonder, as we once did, transfixed with the same sense of childlike amazement experienced during the original trilogy, but rarely felt again since. Until now.

"Open the door." And with those words speculation ends which incarnation of Luke we'd see and, more importantly, how. With Hamill now too old to play the character five years post-ROTJ, would Favreau recast the role with another actor (Sebastian Stan was speculated), or instead go the equally risky route of relying on the same de-aging technology that was used for Carrie Fisher's Princess Leia and Peter Cushing's Grand Moff Tarkin in Rogue One, and briefly for Luke and Leia in The Rise of Skywalker flashbacks? 

In going for the CG option, we're reminded there's still a long way to go before it can be reliably used without issues, but the digitized Hamill is a massive improvement over the the Fisher effort, and about equal to Cushing. But the more noteworthy achievement might be that we hardly care, with the narrative context overshadowing any perceived technological deficiencies. So, even if George Lucas would probably endorse the decision (for all the wrong reasons), this does stand as one of its better uses.

Luke's appearance only enhances the central storyline of Mando having to temporarily part with his son. And, yes, it definitely feels okay to refer to Grogu as his child because he's been that for a while,  and even more so during the course of this season. One of the toughest sells of the show was always going to be having it revolve around a masked protagonist, limiting any actor who would have to convey everything through voice and body language. Not only has Pedro Pascal debunked those fears, he's completely conveyed the bond Mando and Grogu share through this helmet, adjusting accordingly on the very few occasions it's come off and we've seen his face. 

The first removal of Mando's helmet occurred in the Season 1 finale ("Chapter 8: The Redemption") with the IG-11 droid taking it off to treat his injuries, and again this season in "Chapter 15: The Believer" when he and Mayfeld (Bill Burr) go undercover to obtain the coordinates to Gideon's cruiser and a facial scan forces him to remove it. Of course, this is a big deal because if the first time was a necessity, this one's a choice, or rather a sacrifice he makes for the Child. 

At the start of the series we couldn't imagine the inflexible, unemotional Mando doing something like that, but through great storytelling and acting on Pascal's part, we've reached the point where he's now voluntarily removing the helmet so his son can touch his face and say goodbye, if just temporarily. To call it the most powerful moment in this season or even the series as a whole feels like selling it short, as it's tough to recall the franchise coming close to a peak like this within the past thirty years. It also serves a great parallel to Luke removing the helmet off of his injured father at the end of Return of the Jedi. 

Of course any resistance from Grogu to go with Luke is tempered by not just by Mando's blessing, but the presence of R2-D2, joined at the hip with Luke, just as we remembered him at the end of ROTJ. These are how classic characters can be used to service the stories of newer ones without getting it in the way. From a timeline perspective it also perfectly fits, as Luke's exact whereabouts shortly after the conclusion of Episode VI were wide open and largely unestablished.

The big question now is what exactly happens with the future of the series. Will Grogu go on hiatus while he trains with Luke or could we actually see it? The latter seems far-fetched given technological hurdles, so it could be a situation where we have a flash-forward to whenever that's completed, posing another huge creative risk in having to age the Child. But there can be too much of a good thing and overexposing an insanely successful character can be just as damaging, which is why Favreau and Filoni deserve tons of credit for bringing this season's story arc to its logical conclusion, regardless of the creative challenges it'll probably present. 

In successfully shifting the series from becoming the Baby Yoda show into something far more encompassing, there's a good chance Favreau and Filoni are prepared to handle what's next. The show's still titled The Mandalorian so it's a good bet it will continue to follow Mando's adventures and Grogu will return in due time. Aside from the fact he's printing too much money not too, he basically rivals both peak Luke and Yoda in importance at this point.

As the the The Book of Boba Fett post-credit sequence further solidifies, there's going to be an onslaught of new shows, spin-offs and features arriving over the next few years if the franchise can withstand it this time. But even as someone who thinks Disney's done a fantastic job since acquiring the property from Lucas, I'm skeptical of the Marvel-like direction they're taking it, bombarding fans with cross-over content that could be very hit-or-miss. 

If there's a silver lining in this approach, it's that the franchise now has a much stronger foundation on which to build thanks to this series. It may seem hyperbolic to credit one person with "saving" an entire franchise, but that's undeniably what Jon Favreau did with The Mandalorian, giving credence to those suggestions that he and Grogu deserve their own statue beside Walt and Mickey at Disney theme parks. And now we can at least feel safer knowing that any future Star Wars project going through the pipeline will likely have his input or involvement.