Thank God. At no point in this surprisingly good opening episode did anyone sit down with diversity hire number 5 and chat about their feelings, perform astounding feats obviously beyond their character's remit or seek counselling for troublesome interpersonal relationships.
So we got a well-paced, 40 minutes of beautifully shot, classic Star Wars channelling Spaghetti westerns. It felt at one point someone took a turn in Mos Eisley 1977 and began following the helmeted dude down the side street rather than Luke to the bar, so nostalgic was the setting/feel; but in no forced way as per J. J Abrahams sytle. This felt like some sort of parallel New Hope tangential fare.
The Mandalorian himself came across as a tremendously spartan composite of the Man With No Name and Judge Dredd.
Great intruguing climax to set up the following 7 episodes. A stimulating watch for anybody who ever had affection for the original SW trilogy, brilliantly minus the SJW travesty. See what I did there, easily triggered snowflakes?
Fingers crossed the season maintains such positive momentum. Fine start.
Review of The Mandalorian
