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"The axe forgets, but the tree remembers."
Arvel Skeen, Andor
I suspect the world is divided into two groups: those who worship Star Wars and can spend hours arguing over the complexities of far-flung corners of its universe; and those who swipe left and close the app immediately they see that someone has mentioned George Lucas' creation as one of their great loves.
I do not mean to suggest that a Star Wars passion is gender divided: just like the many worlds within the galaxies of the universe itself, it's not.
But the genre has become something of a shibboleth for a certain kind of focus that is rivalled by perhaps only Jane Austen and Lord of the Rings fans: people whose imaginative lives are spent deep in a completely made up other world. If Star Wars is your thing, you speak a language and understand a lore that connects you wordlessly to an entire community.
All of which makes the most recent contribution to its cinematic literature even more remarkable than the universal acclaim it's received: for there are no light-sabre fights, no heavy-breathing Darth Vader, no Princess Leia — no cute, fluffy animals in this new show. Only a deathlessly serious analysis of fascism, the origins of rebellion and the socio-political realities of uprisings.
Star Wars has just created the greatest study unit for the history of revolutions that any university could possibly want.
The two-season television show, Andor, was created by US writer, director and producer, Tony Gilroy — who broke new ground with his Star Wars franchise movie, Rogue One — and his intention was to create the most complete portrait of revolution, its origins, failings and successes, ever seen on screen.
It tells the story of Cassian Andor, played by Diego Luna, an originally minor player in the rebellion that drives the Star Wars story, showing his unintended development from angry young man into a revolutionary driven by the oppression of his times.
Tweezering aside the kitschy distractions of many Star Wars characteristics, Gilroy was left with the heart of its own story: dispossessed rebellion by oppressed ethnic and culture groups across nations, aided by upper class resentment of control as they rise up against the faceless tyranny of the Empire.
The random detainments and deportations; the capricious taxations and work orders; the military presence and oppressions; the culture of fear the repression of free speech; the nervous resistance of some in the ruling class, and authority's impulse for retribution and punishment.
Sound familiar? It's supposed to.
Gilroy, a student of the Russian and Haitian revolutions, describes revolutions like families: "They're all unique and they're all the same," Gilroy told the Peabody podcast, We Disrupt This Broadcast. "I've been able to just sort of catalogue-shop history in a horrifying way all through the whole show."
And so the histories of Tiananmen Square and Bloody Sunday haunt a shocking massacre of civilians in their occupied city; like the Middle East, hard-line guerillas split from the cause in disdain of the soft tactics of the rebel authority; like South America, mercenaries are hired to foment local trouble to justify a tyrannical crackdown; and like every revolution there has ever been, innocents become collateral damage to the importance of the "movement."
But the present rings loudly, too. The culture we create and absorb grows from the nature of our times, and the portrait of tyranny and proto fascism crated in Andor is uncomfortably close to ours. The only real difference, as Gilroy sees it, between Russia, France or now is the rapid pace of communications and disinformation — an upgrade for modern-day fascism via the Tech Bros who decide to climb on board.
But you should know that this also a beautifully produced and designed series: exquisite art direction, breathtaking costumes by celebrated Australian costume designer, Michael Wilkinson, and world-creation that glowers with a timeless brutalism that any resident of London, Caracas or Melbourne would recognise. And that's part of the connection too: fascist dystopia never felt so close.
Andor has become the only television show in history to have five episodes in a row with a rating of 9.5 or higher on the review aggregate website IMDb, and is regarded by some critics as having some of the best TV episodes of all time. I am among them, and as someone who frantically scours overlapping platforms for the best TV writing, I thought that the language of Andor soars.
Gilroy puts into the mouth of one of his most endearing characters, the idealistic young rebel, Karis Nemik, a speech for the ages on freedom and tyranny.
He says: "Freedom is a pure idea. It occurs spontaneously and without instruction … Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks. It leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that. And know this: the day will come when all these skirmishes and battles, these moments of defiance will have flooded the banks of the Empire's authority, and then there will be one too many. One single thing will break the siege. Remember this. Try."
It's the kind of speech you may yet hear in real life, one day.
This weekend, you can see how this past informed our future too, with a fascinating investigation into the Australians who fought against fascism in the Spanish civil war. Empires
Have a safe and happy weekend, and if like me you are still filled with the pleasure of having inhaled season two of Andor — you'll be expecting me to play this; and if not, this banger is about to go straight to your dance list. It's the wedding remix of composer Nicolas Britell's original track, Niamos, for season one. The club world is waiting for Britell to drop the original — in the meantime here's the moment. Go well. |
