This is a rebellion, isn’t it? We rebel.
The Andor finale sends a clear message about what this watershed series has been about all along.
The Short Take:
An intense finale that rightly keeps laser focus on one idea: inciting rebellion. An episode worthy of its 11 predecessors. I can’t get enough of these lyrical speeches.
Image Credit: CNET
[SPOILER WARNING: I’m not sure how you’ve made it this far unspoiled, but if you have, don’t let me be the one to ruin it for you.]
The Long Take:
I had it backwards, dear reader. Going into this finale, I had assumed that the hunt for Cassian Andor would be the focal point of the finale, with Maarva’s funeral as the backdrop. And while all our players — including Cassian — did converge on Ferrix, as I predicted they would, Andor disrupts the TV ending I have been conditioned to expect by making Maarva’s funeral the main event. From the opening credits, Tony Gilroy tells us very clearly that the ways in which all of Ferrix honor their fallen daughter is center stage here, as we hear a new Andor theme, restyled and re-recorded to sound like the brass band funeral dirge that permeates so much of the episode. The second I heard that slow, haunting version of the melody I had come to know and love over the course of the season, I knew we were about to get a different story than I had anticipated.
Gilroy’s unexpected rejection of conventional serial storytelling parallels what happens in the plot, as Maarva’s stirring speech and the ensuing insurrection disrupt all of Team Luthen and Team Dedra’s plans to find Cassian. Every character had their own expectations and goals going to Ferrix, but then the “average” people of Ferrix — not embroiled in the ISB or the Rebellion — take matters into their own hands and try to take their planet back from the Empire. This then makes it so that no one can find Cassian; instead, Luthen, Vel, Cinta, Dedra, and Syril must pull the rip cord on their missions and try to survive/escape the riot on Rix Road. At first I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get more interactions between these disparate members of our ensemble cast. But then I realized that the thematic focus on rebellion and revolution — how it happens and why it happens — was more beautiful than any extended spy game chase sequence we could have gotten.
Even though the show is called Andor and every storyline has a connection to him somehow, this finale reminds us that it has never actually been about who gets Cassian or what happens to him. I like that it basically says “shut up we’re not doing what you want; don’t forget this is all about rebellion.” The show rebels in its own way to illustrate how much rebellion itself — as a concept not tied to any one character — matters. Cassian is exceptional in his skills, intelligence, and leadership, but the series has never venerated him as a hero above all others for it. At no point did this finale show off how cool Cassian is or focus on him as a hero that will single-handedly save everyone. As Maarva says, they have each other.
Everyone can play a part. Everyone has to play a part in the rebellion for it to work. Maarva’s funeral, with nearly the whole town complicit, was in of itself an act of rebellion, long before we hear Maarva’s rousing holographic recording and long before Wilmon Paak (the son of Salman Paak, the man the ISB tortured right before Bix) detonates his bomb. When Prefect Vanis Tigo debriefs Dedra, he says that the Daughters of Ferrix asked for a midday start time, but the Empire made them push it back two hours. When the Time Grappler hammers on the town gong, everyone seems surprised. That’s because the Daughters of Ferrix ignore the Empire’s orders and start when they want to start. This may seem trivial, but it’s the DoF making a statement, and it’s what ultimately throws the Imperial presence on Ferrix off their game.
The episode is able to convey this democratizing message so clearly because it has some of the best use of voiceover I’ve seen in a long while. To me, voiceover narration — when we hear a character talking, but they’re not actually part of the images we’re seeing, at least in that moment, as is the case of flashbacks — is at its best when it adds new meaning to the scene. When it provides a subtext by way of juxtaposition. So when we hear the audio recording of Nemik’s manifesto as Cassian reads it, Nemik’s voice carries over far beyond the “diegetic” use of it. Diegetic refers to anything (but usually sound) happening in the scene itself such that characters in the scene can also hear or see it. So when we hear Nemik’s voice and can see Cassian looking at the space Kindle that’s emitting the sound of Nemik’s voice, that’s diegetic. Nemik’s voice talking while we’re watching Luthen get out of his ship would be non-diegetic. These shifts back and forth from diegetic to non-diegetic sound implies that Nemik’s words now serve a higher purpose: to comment on what we’re seeing all of the other characters do, think, and feel. (Not just Cassian.)
Nemik’s words do everything they need to do for Cassian, though. They’re heartfelt, clear, insightful, and inspirational. They end with “try” and a close up of Cassian’s face, as if Nemik’s telling Cassian to just try in this moment. Don’t run. Try to save your friends. Try to make a difference. Scob the Empire. But the part of the speech that resonated with me even more was the that which describes what’s happening with all the citizens of Ferrix. Nemik says, “Freedom is a pure idea. It occurs spontaneously and without instruction. Random acts of insurrection are occurring constantly throughout the galaxy. There are whole armies, battalions that have no idea that they've already enlisted in the cause. Remember that the frontier of the Rebellion is everywhere. And even the smallest act of insurrection pushes our lines forward.” The uprising on Ferrix may not have been very organized from the start, but the perfect storm of the Daughters of Ferrix refusing to adhere to the Empire’s timetable, Maarva’s emotional farewell speech, and Wilmon’s bomb to avenge his father’s death kicked off a “random act of insurrection” and made even onlookers on the Rix Road “enlist in the cause.”
We start very straightforwardly with Bix as Nemik non-diegetically acknowledges that “There will be times when the struggle seems impossible.” Bix is literally as Nemik describes: “alone, unsure, dwarfed by the scale of the enemy.” But the voiceover also tells us how hopeless Bix must feel after enduring so much torture and that the Rebellion must accept this kind of suffering in order to ultimately prevail. (This is an echo of Luthen’s speech about sacrifice, which also argues for this same kind of necessary cost.)
Then, we cut to Luthen, gazing upon the hub of Ferrix from afar through his binoculars. To me, Nemik’s most instructive words about “the frontier of the Rebellion” being “everywhere” are, when layered upon Luthen’s image, describing what Luthen is about to learn firsthand about revolution. That it can’t all be underhanded deals in backchannels made by only a few like him; “normal” people becoming fed up with tyranny will be the tipping point of success. One could argue that Luthen wanted this to happen when he said Aldhani was intended to prompt the Empire to tighten its grip so the Galaxy would wake up. But I would say that he still gains a lot by going to Ferrix, even without recruiting Cassian at the end. We keep seeing him observing the people of Ferrix during Maarva’s funeral. At the very least witnessing this “smallest act of insurrection” might remind him of what he’s doing all this for, why he dangles his soul at the precipice of darkness.
Poetic oration has been such a huge part of this series, and I think that’s because great speeches fuel the most consequential moments and movements in history; they often turn the tide and inspire others to expand their worldview and perhaps even act. I can think of so many from American history alone. Patrick Henry’s “Give me liberty, or give me death” in 1775. Frederick Douglass’ “What, to the slave, is the Fourth of July?” in 1852. Susan B. Anthony’s “Are women persons?” in 1873. Martin Luther King Jr’s “I Have a Dream” in 1963. Fred Hampton’s “Power anywhere there’s people” in 1969. Harvey Milk’s “Hope Speech” in 1978. (I’m sure I’m missing many. Leave a note about your favorite revolutionary speech or what you think inspired Nemik’s manifesto in the comments!) So it’s no surprise that we get not one but two beautifully written full-length speeches along with a few other shorter kernels of wisdom through Cassian’s adoptive father, Clem, and the last words Maarva asks Brasso to pass on to him. The most tearjerking moment of the entire episode may have been “I love him more than anything he could do wrong.”
Maarva’s broadcast to all of Ferrix watching her funeral on Rix Road, however, stands out as a cut above the rest, at least in this episode, because it reminds me of some of the great historical speeches I mentioned moments ago. She first builds up her ethos by not only mentioning that she’s a Daughter of Ferrix but by establishing how long she’s been a member of the community. She tells the story of the first time she “touched a funerary stone” and how much the traditions and cultures have meant to her. Immediately after she expresses a love for Ferrix and its people, however, she says, “But I fear for you. We have been sleeping.” This shift reminds me so much of the opening of something like “What, to a slave, is the Fourth of July?” because Douglass first establishes his humility, but also reminds the audience that he’s spoken in that hall many times before. Only then can he begin to confront them about the hypocrisy of celebrating the Fourth of July — a day which celebrates the revolt against the tyranny of the British Crown — when slavery was still legal in the United States. (Shoutout to my colleague Stephanie Renee Payne! She reminded me how much of a rhetorical genius Frederick Douglass was when I observed her phenomenal class recently.)
Perhaps because her speech is so rhetorically savvy, Maarva’s words precipitate more action than Luthen’s monologue from Episode 10. Maybe even Kino’s speech from that episode, though that comparison is closer. Maybe even Nemik’s manifesto (so far, at least). To be fair, she had a bigger audience than everyone except Kino. Scholars of linguistics have a term called a “speech act,” which is a word or a phrase that not only conveys a particular message, but actually enacts something in its utterance. The most obvious example of this is when two people getting married say “I do”; presumably their saying those words actually marries them as opposed to just expressing a desire to marry. While it may stretch the formal definition, I would call Maarva’s auto-eulogy a speech act because it incites a riot. Yes, Vanis Tigo lit the fuse that set off the powder keg when he flipped over B2EMO. (At which point I rage-thought, “Don’t you lay a hand on him!!!”) But this reaction was inevitable. If it hadn’t been Vanis Tigo trying to silence B, it would have been something else that spontaneously ignited a fight for freedom “without instruction,” as Nemik would say. You could see it on all the faces as we get angry reaction shot after angry reaction shot during the speech. The situation is ready to burst.
Before I move on, I do want to acknowledge that Maarva’s holographic message urging others to stand up to the Empire is very, VERY reminiscent of an episode of the animated series, Rebels. In “Call to Action” (Season 1, Episode 13), Jedi in training (and hiding), Ezra Bridger, sends an illicit broadcast to the entire Galaxy in the hopes of encouraging the people on his home planet, Lothal, to resist the Empire. If you look at his words, it sounds a lot like Nemik’s manifesto and Maarva’s message smashed together:
See what the Empire has done to your lives, your families, and your freedom? It's only gonna get worse, unless we stand up and fight back. It won't be easy. There will be loss and sacrifice. But we can't back down just because we're afraid. That's when we need to stand the tallest. That's what my parents taught me. That's what my new family helped me remember. Stand up together, because that's when we're strongest—as one.
As you can see, it has the we’re all in this together spirit of Maarva (“we’re strongest as one” vs. “we had each other”) and the suffering is a necessary cost idea of Nemik (“it won’t be easy” vs. “the struggle seems impossible”). Even though Ezra gives his speech in 4BBY while Maarva gives hers in 5BBY, I don’t mind these similarities at all; in fact, it illustrates Nemik’s point that “the frontier of the Rebellion is everywhere.” Many of these types of events should be happening concurrently and independently of one another. If you only follow live action Star Wars, you will get to meet Ezra Bridger before 2023 is out in the Ahsoka series in production right now. Whenever you do, just know that you heard that he was a true rebel here first!
I have to admit, I have continually saved Mon Mothma for last and ultimately neglected her because I kept waiting for her to have the big speech or moment. But I now see that she just doesn’t have that kind of story. Her acts of rebellion must hide in plain sight and, as she says in Episode 7, look like a mere “irritation.” To me, her scene in the car with Perrin, in which she questions him about his gambling habits, was her moment. It just wasn’t as loud and flashy as any of the scenes with big speeches because she’s playing a high level, high stakes game of deception. And that’s been the case since she explained her stone in hand, knife in throat game to Tay in Episode 7.
The later scene at the ISB with Blevin and the driver, Kloris, confirmed that Mon Mothma was purposefully leaking misinformation to Kloris to try to distract the Empire from her irregular banking of late, but I knew that’s what she was doing the moment the camera shifted to Kloris listening in even though the privacy screen was up. My Queen had her moments of anxiety and vulnerability at home, but here she seems back in the game and ready to play. I’m glad this season left me with more confidence in her because I want nothing more than to see her as a strong female character. I did, however, get totally faked out by this episode because I assumed that the stunt with Perrin in the car was going to take the place of setting up a blind date between her daughter and Davo’s son. Obviously, the upholding of this outdated custom is gross, but Leida does seem happy about it, so even though it repulses me and Mon, I’d say this is doubly good for Mon’s game because it will also make Leida happier with her and throw her off any scent she may have had in previous episodes. She’s got this.
While I now realize that I had misjudged the Mon Mothma storyline a bit, I need to admit that I had Syril’s storyline ALL wrong. I still prefer my predicted version, though; I wanted him to blunder big time and unwittingly hand the Rebels a W. I don’t like that instead he is now Dedra’s savior. He was a creepy stalker in Episode 9. So what are we doing here? Why are we white knighting him? Their scene together here confirms all the fears I had about his role as romantic interest for Dedra. That said, I kind of liked him more for saving Dedra. And I hate that I like him more. I’ve never had such a self-loathing relationship with a character before. Ultimately, I’m disappointed that Dedra couldn’t be tough in the face of danger. Her shaking panic is understandable, of course; I just didn’t want that for her. Also, I like Syril’s inclusion in Andor because he’s a fascinatingly loathsome and pathetic character, and I think his heroic act of love here makes him less so.
Cassian’s Season 1 arc, on the other hand, was completely satisfying. I wasn’t sure if we would get to see him actually join the Rebellion by this point, but I like that we did. It frees the writers up to do a lot more with him and set him loose more in Season 2. I especially liked the choice to have Cassian waiting for Luthen on the Fondor. Again, this debunks our assumptions about how this was supposed to go. Cassian in a way catches Luthen (out) rather than Luthen or anyone else catching Cassian. And since the series has done so much to build up an understanding of Cassian’s evolving perspective and motivations, he and Luthen don’t need to say much at all in the end. No grandstanding, no big speeches here. Cassian simply offers himself up, and Luthen just smiles (or, as the captions say, “scoffs.”).
I have structured this review almost entirely around many of Andor’s key characters. While as a teacher I would try to discourage such categorical thinking, I, in my defense, would say that this speaks to how character-driven this series has been. I am still astounded by how excellent it was and cannot wait to cheer it on at the Emmys next year. I will accept nothing less than a sweep because that’s what this series deserves.