The Gonzo Wolf

Allow me to submit my qualifications for this review.

1. I saw Star Wars on opening night at a drive-in movie theater; in a lawn chair in the back of my grandma’s El Camino. I was four.

2. I am undefeated in the official original trilogy SW Trivial Pursuit, and actually have one still boxed and sealed. The one from 1999 with the Phantom Menace bonus questions.

3. I have a young adult son named Anakin via his birth certificate.

4. I’ve visited Lucasfilm and performed small jobs for them both before and after the Disney acquisition. Somewhere in my drawers ‘o memories, I have communications via official Lucasfilm letterhead circa the year 2000.

5. I own unwatched and sealed VHS copies of the pre-special edition and THX releases.

I’m a fan; end of story. That said, let’s talk. I gave this film three and a half stars (if I remember correctly; I don’t feel like looking it up) when I was fresh out of the theater. Have I changed my mind watching it at home on my own terms?

Let’s see what the fine folks at Wikipedia have to say about this film:

Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu (titled The Mandalorian and Grogu on-screen) is a 2026 American science fiction film directed by Jon Favreau, who co-wrote the film with Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor. Produced by Lucasfilm and Fairview Entertainment, and distributed by Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, it is part of the Star Wars franchise and serves as a continuation of the Disney+ television series The Mandalorian (2019–2023). Pedro Pascal stars as Din Djarin / The Mandalorian—who was also portrayed on set by Brendan Wayne and Lateef Crowder—alongside Jeremy Allen White, Jonny Coyne, Martin Scorsese, and Sigourney Weaver. In the film, which is set following the fall of the Galactic Empire, Djarin and his apprentice Grogu are enlisted by the New Republic to rescue Rotta the Hutt (White) in exchange for information on a target.

Favreau and Filoni wrote a fourth season of The Mandalorian by February 2023, but production was delayed by the 2023 Hollywood labor disputes. During this time, Lucasfilm re-evaluated their plans for the franchise and decided to prioritize a Mandalorian film over the fourth season. The Mandalorian and Grogu was announced in January 2024 with Favreau directing and co-writing with Filoni and Kloor, and Pascal reprising his role from the series. Filming began in California by August 2024 and was completed by that December. Further casting was revealed around and after filming, including the return of various characters from The Mandalorian and other Star Wars media. The Mandalorian composer Ludwig Göransson returned to score the film.

Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu premiered on May 14, 2026, at TCL Chinese Theatre in Los Angeles, and was released in the United States on May 22. It has grossed $344.8 million worldwide, becoming the lowest-grossing live-action Star Wars film. The film received mixed reviews, with critics praising the score, while criticizing the plot, visuals, and action sequences.

The Re-Rev-iew…

Disclaimer: I raised my son during the prequel era of Star Wars, and he turned out just fine. In recent years, I’ve found myself craving more Clone Wars and Rebel’s material, rewatching those series multiple times for their depth and dedication to the overall franchise. I can’t be dissuaded from loving the last years of the great George Lucas or early Filoni; depending on who you ask.

Double disclaimer: I enjoyed The Force Awakens for what it was, and some parts of The Last Jedi were a nice surprise (It’s a Knive’s Out Star Wars presentation), but Rise of Skywalker was an abomination. I saw it in a packed theater on opening night with an unknown/impossible to diagnose case of COVID. Before it was a thing. I almost died. For all I know, someone else from the theater could’ve died. I’d hate to know Rise of Skywalker was the film I took to my grave. It saddens me.

Now, Star Wars is a brand instead of a story. Some would say it always was, but, as a kid who received the toys on holidays rather than being the one who paid for them, I find that line of thought to be lunacy. I will still defend Star Wars until my final breath, but I’m going to cough and try to pull the blanket over my face like Yoda in Return of the Jedi, when he wanted Luke to shut up and leave him alone. There is no such thing as BAD Star Wars, says I; it’s just that some are better than others.

Now that we’ve established my overall view of the mythos and fanbase…

People are stupid. Creators, consumers, and reviewers. We’ve gotten collectively dumber over the years, but none so much as the last decade. What you now see is what you’re getting, and it’s only going to get worse. Either learn to hold your nose and lick it, or get a divorce.

Our film begins with one of the lamest and most cliche gangster shakedown this side of a Law and Order episode. The whole thing immediately feels like a Marvel film; lit strangely for a Star Wars project. Do these people even rewatch the original six for reference, or do they just believe we’ll eventually accept their betrayals? As was said often during its theatrical release, this could’ve been a few episodes of the television show. If you have no issues accepting that observation, they you may very well enjoy this film.

I’m unsure as to who this was made for. We get Zeb from Rebel’s every now and then (same voice actor and top notch CGI), but that only means something if you’ve watched a hundred episodes of a Disney Channel cartoon. No matter its brilliance, the statistical bet most the paying theatrical audience took that journey are slim to none; especially in small towns. Your average baseball dad gets shunned in spank circles when he gets caught watching cartoons; especially the ones where the characters manage to retain all their clothing.

I’m unsure as to why the storytellers insist on us getting every moment of Grogu’s childhood as screentime. There were major time jumps in the prequels and originals, because the filmmakers didn’t feel the need to milk the audience whenever a main character enjoyed a bathroom break. As a generation, we possessed the ability to fill in the blanks on our own, and it wasn’t such a bad gig. We didn’t need to see Anakin Skywalker pod racing as a nine year old either, but I digress. It’s difficult to sell toys and games if you don’t have a character in its “cutie” phase.

Now, I’m not saying I hate every moment of this movie; I appreciate the inclusion of the battle droid remnant squads from the Clone Wars, and finally getting a peek into the foul home world of the Hutts. Hell, we even get a screen shot of Rotta from that less-than-stellar Clone Wars animated film as a nod to all of us who believed Star Wars couldn’t possibly get any worse. Damn, were we wrong in 2008; so wrong.

With what I guess is the middle chapter, we are introduced to the streets and nightlife of the planet Shakari. It’s very Attack of the Clones/Bladerunner, and I won’t complain. We get a decent subplot about how difficult it is being the son of Jabba the Hutt, which is suddenly interrupted by Star Wars WWE. I swear; we were so close to having something soulful occur within the story. Instead, we’re introduced to another cliche villain in the form of Coyne, who conveniently monologues the overall plot, like Favreau needed to tie this whole thing up sometime within the next twenty minutes. Did I mention this movie is over two hours long? What are they supposed to do with the remainder of the runtime?

Ridiculousness is the answer to that question. Star Wars ridiculousness.

Why doesn’t Mando’s helmet filter toxins?

Why doesn’t Grogu use the force to get out of the cage?

Answer: so we can have the ‘let’s all work together even though we were just fighting’ scene. Please, Dave, keep Favreau and his Marvel shenanigans away from Star Wars. I know that’s your Buffalo Wild Wings buddy, or he has photos of you at a wife-swapping party, but he has no business Marvel-ing our Star Wars. Everything happening in the gladiator pit scene suffers from a severe lack of creativity in the mind of this so called Hollywood god That, or he gets a treat whenever he successfully delivers a second of screentime fan service; either/or. It was nice to see a bunch creatures massacre people in the audience, and I suddenly wished I could trade places with them. Before we know it, the movie shifts back into attempted ‘cute’ mode with a minimal sticky clutch warning. It’s a little confusing to see chaotic ultra-violence – although CGI – narrated via tired, family-friendly dialogue.

Again, who did they make this film for?

Themselves.

Why does a baby carriage, even in the Star Wars universe, have a turbo mode? Because movie trailers.

This movie is proof filmgoers should riot against large studios, but then what would we watch? Indie films are either horror, or about people with a gender identity crisis. Where are we supposed to get our sci-fi? Where will the next Alien or Event Horizon come from? Not Disney; I can guarantee that.

We need a win, folks. We need a Star Wars win. Was Revenge of the Sith truly the nail in the coffin?

For a second or two, you can almost feel a drop of heart in the scene between Rotta the Hutt and Grogu playing in the ocean, and you think things might begin to look up for the general story; giving us some character development, or even a worthy conflict…

Then, some Muppets show up in a speeder. They’re using an easily identifiable Hanna Barbera sound effect when they do. It pulled me completely out of the film, and I hope the foley artist and editor are proud of themselves for such an inside, nudge-nudge, decision. I’m dead from that moment on. It doesn’t matter that it’s a Star Wars property. I’m dead.

The whole film is written and paced like a modern videogame; the kind with hours of cinema cut scenes and a handful of linear gameplay moments. The kind you’re forced to watch at your friend’s house because he owned both the weed and the Playstation. Then, just to make sure we’re all paying attention for the final half of the film, a dog eats one of those little Babu Frik puppets, allowing the movie to seamlessly transition back into its terrifying, Dark Crystal phase. Soon, we realize we’ve been duped into viewing one of the laziest revenge plots, taken directly from the Fox News/Jan 6th/Yee Haw Klan playbook: Two slimy, incestual siblings, who live on the trailer park of all planets, rub all over each other until their guests break out into random fights. Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s very Mar A Lago. Ew.

To seal the deal, Grogu gives us his Rambo moment, but it was done so much more convincingly by Gizmo back in 1984. Really, this movie is just Jon Favreau’s classic Hollywood orgasm inside joke at the cost of our beloved franchise. It attempts to go from violence, to one-liner sock puppets. I’m not sure who thought this would work.

As far as the television excuse is concerned…

Star Trek pulled it off successfully. Battlestar 2K4 pulled it off successfully. Why can’t Star Wars? How were the lesser franchises successful? They didn’t have Disney’s purse. There were consequences for failure. The same consequences George Lucas faced when he first took us into that galaxy far, far away. It was created from love and hope. Not anymore.

The only thing that could’ve saved this movie, in my personal opinion, would’ve been Grogu whipping out a lightsaber, and ripping everyone to shreds. That doesn’t make money, though. Rather than give audiences the orgasm they want, they’ll draw out the act over several seasons; like a type of never-ending foreplay.

You see, Disney isn’t allowed to make us cum; they’re only allowed suck it and stop when our butts get tense. At this point, it’s safe to say we’re still allowed to pull out our little black books of Star Wars years-gone-by, call up Revenge of the Sith or Empire for a nostalgic quickie, and stop unzipping our pants every time Disney hits its knees. Take them for who they are and what it’s become: a nostalgic, heartless whorehouse built atop a sealed vault of endless lore and lost Gen X childhoods.

But, it’s still not over. Nope; we’re treated to a Mando fake-out death sequence, an Indiana Jones style gross-out gag, and the return of Grogo who, when finally allowed to use the force, performs the one force power famous for fracturing the fan base to begin with: the mighty force heal.

This film is nothing but Disney laughing at the legacy fans & jerking off the prequels kids. It’s a trailer park based t-shirt store for when Memaw wants to get dolled-up, shine the motorized cart, and cruise with the Wal-Martians.

It’s as though the whole thing was made so spoiled white kids, whose mom and dad can still afford a movie trip without the fear of being deported by the goon-squad, can brag about that one particular scene when Grogu slams Mando’s head into the mud-hut repeatedly in order to hype-up America’s streaming poor for the inevitable Disney Plus arrival. A legend told in public schoolyard circles.

That’s it. Bingo.

This is a Disney plus movie.

If that’s the continued case, then we better start getting remote controls on our seats to pause for piss breaks.

There’s no finality. Every scene is potential for a forever through comic books, cartoons, and television spin-offs. The new storytellers don’t believe in consequence. It’s reality television cosplaying as our childhood playthings.

Star Wars was made by a dreamer. That dream was then purchased by professional dreamers, then devoured; as were we all by proxy. Theaters were our generational getaway. Now, they just want us all to stay home. We can’t buy things on Amazon when we’re not home.

Star Wars itself has become the commercial that interrupts the movie; the distraction from the distraction. The Empire won, and everything after is fake news. No heroes, no villains, just eternal conflict between action figures.

It was the bar as far as science fictions films went. Now, it reaches for Guardians of the Galaxy rather than trying to maintain its own legacy. We, as fans, used to be the bar as well. We, as fans, had standards. Perhaps we should demand better. Hell, perhaps we should create better.

In the Disney years, lightsabers no longer kill, and Mandalorian plot armor never fractures. These are stories created in the minds of men with blank checks. It’ll never be 1977 again, because it can’t be. It was force-lightning in a blue-milk bottle, and we poured it upon our faces a long time ago, like a money-shot far, far away.

I rarely cry, but I think I might need to. Maybe we all should. Maybe we’ll feel better if we do.

The movie ends with the fantasy version of American Space Force showing up to save the day at the last minute aka the universally flaunted war-trope recently debunked by millions of Iranians. We bleed after all. Time to reevaluate fictional McGuffin choices, Hollywood. Immortality obviously had a time limit.

In the end, I think Favreau doodled this thing out (pun intended) on a roll of toilet paper during his morning shit, after a long night of Jack Daniel’s and Disneyland churros. If Zeb and Rotta hook up as a couple in a sequel, I’m in, and I’m not even gay. If you insist on re-skinning anything, Disney, at least give us a Zeb & Rotta retelling of The Bird Cage.

Overall, this isn’t the worst of the Star Wars films, but worst isn’t necessarily a thing people shoot for.