Andor season 2 review: Episodes 4-6

If rebellions are built on hope, as Jyn Erso once said, it’s also true that they’re built on sacrifice. The second block of episodes in Andor season 2 — “Ever Been to Ghorman?”, “I Have Friends Everywhere,” and “What a Festive Evening” — showed us what those sacrifices look like and how they test even the strongest soldiers. Andor has never shied away from the gritty truth of war, but these episodes explore the personal cost of resistance in unprecedented depth, setting the stage for difficult choices in Cassian Andor’s future as he marches toward his fate.

A test of commitment

In contrast to the season’s first story arc, Cassian Andor has a lot to do in these three episodes, and all of it reveals valuable new information about his personal growth, from his newfound skills to his emerging weaknesses.

Cassian’s main mission in this story arc is to assess the rebel movement known as the Ghorman Front and its leader, local businessman and politician Carro Rylanz, on behalf of a cautiously hopeful Luthen Rael. (Side note:  I like that Luthen, with his web of sources, has heard about Rylanz’s operation and wants to know how serious it is — in other words, whether he can use for his accelerationist agenda.) Throughout Cassian’s brief time on Ghorman, there are many signs of his growing competence as a spy.

Take Cassian’s conversation with the hotel bellhop shortly after his arrival. The scene serves two purposes: to provide a bit more exposition about the previously mentioned “Tarkin Massacre,” and to show how good Cassian is at charming people into divulging information. Minutes after arriving in town, this newcomer is able to convince a total stranger to share thoughts and feelings that his bosses want him to suppress. Espionage lives and dies on information, and this storyline shows us that, as good of a fighter and pilot as Cassian is, he’s equally skilled at using the soft touch to learn what he needs to know. At the end of their conversation, Cassian thanks the bellhop and says, “It’s good to meet you.” I think this is genuine. Cassian is a good spy because a lot of his warmth and charisma is sincere. Of course, as we’ll see, the same noble qualities that help him gather information also make it hard for him to endure some of the stressors of the spy life.

Cassian’s later meeting with Enza Rylanz, the Ghorman Front leader’s daughter, also highlights how good of a spy he’s become. This meeting isn’t about soft-touch information collection; it’s more of a scolding. After Enza enthusiastically but carelessly greets him, Cassian chastises her for being so eager that she failed to verify his identity. “I am who you want me to be, but that’s just you getting lucky,” he tells her. “People die rushing.” As he leaves, Cassian tells Enza to stop having him followed, because the operatives following him are doing a bad job of blending in. It’s another indicator of his extensive training and expertise, as well as a sign that he’s already souring on the Ghorman resistance.

By the time of Cassian’s final meeting with Rylanz, he has determined that the Ghorman Front’s plan — to hijack an Imperial transport, abscond with its secret cargo of weapons, and announce their discovery that the cargo is for an armory — is a bad idea. In contrast to the kinds of missions that Cassian is used to — the Aldhani heist, TIE Avenger theft — these operatives not only intend to linger near the scene of the crime, but they also want to brag about their attack. Rylanz’s defense — that strikes like these are their only option for fighting to keep their home — does little to persuade Cassian, even as he admits that he doesn’t know what else they can do.

As disappointed as Cassian is in the Ghormans, the feeling seems mutual. Rylanz asks him, “Not much of a revolutionary, are you?” and tells him to tell Luthen that he isn’t impressed. This is an important moment, as Rylanz questions Cassian’s entire approach to insurgency. We, the viewer, are also meant to interrogate Cassian’s perspective. Is his philosophy of rebellion — eschewing operations that endanger a movement just to send a message — the best outlook, or does it needlessly limit valuable opportunities for progress? Recall what Nemik wrote in his manifesto: “Random acts of insurrection are occurring constantly throughout the galaxy … and even the smallest act of insurrection pushes our lines forward.” How should we reconcile Nemik’s view that every attempt at defiance is worthy (“try,” he urged his reader) with Cassian’s view that some attempts aren’t worth the risk?

Cassian’s attitude toward the Ghormans sets up a collision between him and Luthen, who takes a more Nemik-esque view of resistance. When they reunite Luthen at Port Steergard, Cassian, disillusioned with the Ghorman Front, tells Luthen to stay away. Luthen gruffly reprimands Cassian, saying he was barely able to learn much of value about the Ghormans. But Cassian has already seen enough. They’re rushing, he says, and they’re going to get themselves killed. Luthen is disappointed in his protégé — Cassian was supposed to help the Ghormans accomplish their goal, not prejudge them and discourage them from pursuing it. Even if they aren’t a sophisticated rebel force, Luthen says, “There’s always something to be done.”

Cassian’s experience with repression and public apathy has convinced him that the Ghormans shouldn’t bother standing up just to send a message that no one will hear. But Luthen sees things differently. He says the Ghormans should be encouraged, their fervor egged on, because they could spark “a new frontline against the Empire,” one that will attract attention because of its wealth and fame. Cassian admits that he’s thinking about the situation on Ghorman tactically, like a soldier assessing one unwinnable battle. Luthen tells him to think bigger, like a leader planning a long-term, multi-front war. Perhaps the Ghorman Front will be crushed, Luthen seems to be saying, but that will only galvanize further resistance. To meld Cassian and Luthen’s back-to-back metaphors, even if Ghorman “goes up in flames,” at least it “will burn very brightly,” thus kindling even more unrest. (Ironically, Luthen and Dedra share the same goal here, at least in short term.)

Cassian’s conclusion about Ghorman disappoints Luthen, but not nearly as much as the way he lets his attachment to Bix Caleen interfere with his rebel duties. The idea that emotional attachment produces mixed results has been a core part of Star Wars’s DNA from the very beginning — Luke’s faith that his father still has good in him, Anakin’s anxiety about his wife’s survival — so it’s great to see Andor introduce that theme into Cassian’s rebel journey. Cassian’s love for Bix helps preserve his humanity, but it also makes it harder for him to do things that require suppressing that humanity.

Cassian lets his emotions get the better of him throughout this story arc. When Luthen tells him that Bix can’t go to Ghorman with him, he bristles at this, not wanting to leave her behind unprotected. And after he gets back, and Bix tells him that Luthen almost offered her a job in his absence, he makes an unscheduled visit to Luthen’s shop in the middle of the night to confront him. This moment in particular is a clear sign that Cassian is in danger of losing his way. He’s so angry at Luthen for trying to send Bix out into the field that he abandons all the security protocols that protect their operation (and, by extension, Bix herself). Interestingly, Cassian describes what Luthen did as “mess[ing] with Bix” — suggesting that merely by asking Bix to take on a job, Luthen would have been manipulating her. It’s as if Cassian sees Bix as both too fragile to succeed in the field and too vulnerable to encouragement by Luthen to know her own limits.

By this point, Luthen is feeling let down on two fronts. He’s disappointed in Cassian for rejecting the Ghorman job, and he’s disappointed in Bix for telling Cassian about Luthen’s visit. In a chiding tone, Luthen lays out Cassian’s problems: “Ghorman looks too painful. Bix is too vulnerable. … Soft on Ghorman but willing to protect Bix at any cost.” Luthen is right: Cassian doesn’t want to put Ghorman at further risk, but he’s willing to put Luthen’s entire operation at risk to send a message to Luthen about Bix.

Cassian’s confrontation with Luthen over Bix is really a clash between two beliefs about the role of sentiment in the dirty business of rebellion. “We are not droids,” Cassian tells Luthen. “We are not who we were when we started,” Luthen responds. That is some excellent writing — among the best in the entire season so far. Cassian is pushing for a dose of humanity in their activities, but Luthen wants him to recognize that they’ve all had to abandon some of their humanity in order to fight the Empire.

Cassian observes that Luthen must think it would be easier for everyone if he were alone. He’s right — people with attachments don’t last long in this fight. Cassian’s true, visceral recognition of this fact is another important milestone in his gradual transformation into the lonely Rebel agent we meet in Rogue One.

Teetering on the edge

As Cassian continues to learn how life in the resistance frays the connections that sustain people, Bix worries about whether she and Cassian are cut out for that life. When we first see Bix in this story arc, she’s having another nightmare — but this time, it blends her trauma from Dr. Gorst’s torture with her shame about Cassian killing an Imperial soldier to protect her on a recent mission. (Her nightmare makes the Imperial soldier look so young — and she later calls him a “boy” — suggesting that she saw him as less complicit and more innocent than other Imperials.) These two anxieties feed on each other, as her desire to no longer be a victim fuels her anger at Cassian for trying to protect her like she is one.

Multiple scenes in this episode give us glimpses into Bix’s emotional distress. When Luthen visits Bix in the safe house to check on her (a sign of his competence as a spymaster — he can tell that Bix is struggling and wants to try to help her), she asks him if the fighting will ever end. Clearly, she’s struggling with rebel life. That struggle is infecting her relationship with Cassian — she suspects that he’s been voicing concerns about her to Luthen, a flash of paranoia that offers another sign of her fraying mental state.

Cassian’s departure for Ghorman leaves Bix without much to do but quietly tend to the safe house. But as episode 4 ends, we see how she’s dealing with her nightmares and the insecurity they make her feel: by self-medicating with a drug that Luthen warns her not to rely on. It’s a sign of how heavily the stress of her assignment and her lingering trauma are weighing on her. She’s at risk of coming apart at the seams.

Love in the time of rebellion

One of my favorite parts of this story arc is how it depicts the strains in Cassian and Bix’s relationship. Adria Arjona does a great job of playing Bix as she navigates this growing tension. Early on, an already tense conversation turns confrontational when Bix asks Cassian about killing the soldier. Cassian’s response clearly doesn’t satisfy her, and she says she can’t stop thinking about the soldier. The conversation heats up further as Cassian argues that Bix shouldn’t lose sleep over the dead man. “It had to be done,” he says, although it’s unclear if he’s more interested in reassuring Bix or himself.

Later, there’s another argument. “I don’t want to lose you again,” Cassian tells Bix. “That’s not up to us anymore,” she responds. “You can’t protect me.” Bix is right — now that they’re part of something bigger, they can’t put each other above the cause. Bix tells Cassian that if they’re truly in a war, they can’t afford to be precious about things like each other’s lives. “I’m trying not to count on anything anymore.” What a tragic perspective to adopt, made even more tragic by how prudent it is.

When Cassian returns from Ghorman, their reunion starts off intimate and loving. The moment he’s through the door, they’re kissing, she’s showing off the expensive flowers she bought for their newly tidied-up office, and he’s playfully teasing her about his debonair cover identity. But when Bix tells Cassian that Luthen almost sent her on a mission in his absence, the reunion turns cold and confrontational. Cassian is obsessed with protecting Bix and resents Luthen going behind his back to approach her. Bix, in turn, gets mad at Cassian for trying to shield her from field work and tries to redirect his attention away from anger at Luthen.

Bix wants Cassian to stop seeing her as a victim and start seeing her as an operative, but Cassian can’t seem to understand what he’s done wrong by caring about her. Early on in the story arc, there’s a small moment that nicely encapsulates this disconnect. Not long after they return to Coruscant from their latest mission, Bix is cleaning Cassian’s blaster while he’s making dinner. Bix remarks that they should have cleaned his weapon earlier, to which Cassian responds that it was reasonable for them to prioritize rest instead. This clearly doesn’t land well with Bix. She doesn’t want to rest like some soft child; she wants to be useful — and to be seen being useful. You can tell that she’s pushing herself extra hard to prove that her nightmares haven’t made her weak.

I really like seeing how the rebellion is driving a wedge into this relationship. Cassian knows what the rebellion costs those who sustain it, but he believes that he can shield Bix from that cost while accepting the risks himself. This creates tension with Bix, who is self-conscious about being perceived as weak and hates that Cassian is trying to shield her like this. Neither is acting in bad faith, but their differing priorities make them see things differently, and it’s straining things. Andor beautifully layers a bleak element of desperation on top of this emotional friction: “If I’m giving up everything, I want to win,” Bix says. “We have to.” The tension in Cassian and Bix’s relationship was already sad, but the overwhelming odds against them seeing the kind of victory that would make this tension worth it make the whole situation much sadder.

Cassian’s protectiveness of Bix is just one of the sources of tension. The bigger stressor is the constant danger facing both rebels on Coruscant, which looms over everything they do, complicating even simple tasks and depriving them of small joys that might make rebel life more bearable.

Cassian and Bix’s shopping trip is both a calm interlude in between the more dramatic scenes and a sad reminder of how their allegiance to the cause infects even these everyday outings. “The mission is dinner,” Bix says. “I think we can handle it.” But Cassian’s paranoia in the store — when he realizes that the store owner remembers them, despite how long they’ve stayed away — proves that it’s hard to leave your protective instincts behind, even in a place that is presumably safe.

Back at the safe house, as Bix and Cassian eat dinner, they have another uneasy conversation. Bix, needing fresh air and a boost to her spirits, asks if they can take a walk in the big park. Cassian, ever the practical man, says they can’t go there because of all the cameras. He tries to be gentle about it, but nothing can change the fact that he has to deliver this bad news. Bix, clearly needing the respite, tries to argue that they can make it work, which prompts Cassian to more assertively squash the idea. Cassian’s protectiveness has reared its head again, but in this case, it’s hard to argue with his prudence. Rebel life requires a lot of sacrifice. Sometimes that means putting a loved one in danger, but other times, it means foregoing a walk in the park.

Undercover and out of the loop

If the heart of this story arc is Cassian and Bix’s relationship, the dramatic core is Syril Karn, whose counterintelligence mission on Ghorman consistently highlights his competence and confidence. Season 1 showed us that Syril was actually a pretty good investigator, and now we learn that he’s also a really good spy. He booby-traps his door so he’ll know if his apartment was broken into, uses holo-conversations with his mom to make himself seem like a good recruitment target for the eavesdropping Ghorman Front, and performatively resists an Imperial Security Bureau search of his office to cement the idea of his growing disenchantment with Imperial overreach.

Syril handles all of this with surprising ease, from playing it cool when he’s covertly handed the town-hall meeting address to deftly persuading the Bureau of Standards security guards to let him into his office after hours. This latter scene offers an especially strong contrast with Season 1 Syril. On Ferrix, his attempts to sound commanding just made him seem pathetic, but here on Ghorman, he does a good job of persuading others to do and think what he wants them to. His excellent performance continues when he pretends to shakily inform his staff about a bug found in their office and lash out in frustration at the ISB’s stupid belief that his team is bugging its own office. He really sells the disaffected-bureaucrat performance. And when the Ghorman Front learns about Syril’s firing by the ISB after the Ferrix disaster, it further solidifies his cover story.

It’s unclear if Syril’s bosses at the Bureau of Standards are in on the ISB operation that he’s conducting on Dedra’s behalf. If not, it would represent a continuation of Syril’s willingness to color a bit outside the lines in the pursuit of Imperial order and justice. During one of their holo-conversations, Eedy tells Syril not to “become too much of an individual,” but by going out on a limb for the ISB while using his official job as cover, that’s exactly what he’s doing. 

When Dedra and Syril discuss his findings, he’s clearly proud of his security measures and the information he’s already gathered. He’s right to be proud — he’s done a great job. But in the finest tradition of a spy story, Syril is just a pawn in a bigger game that he knows nothing about. He thinks the ISB just wants to turn Ghorman into a honeypot for “outside agitators,” but something else is going on here, and Partagaz has sworn Dedra to silence about it. Watching Dedra keep Syril in the dark, I have to wonder if this duplicity is weighing on her at all. Does she feel at all bad about lying to her romantic partner, especially with him risking his life for the mission he thinks he’s on? Something tells me she doesn’t. In fact, I think she’s perfectly happy to deceive Syril for the good of Imperial stability.

Can we turn off the lights on this subplot?

That brings me to a brief tangent about Dedra and Syril. In my review of the first story arc, I said that I didn’t like their relationship but that I was open to changing my mind if new circumstances justified it. So far, that hasn’t happened. In the second story arc, their relationship remains bizarre to the point of being nonsensical. Their stiff reunion scene at Dedra’s apartment epitomizes this continuing bizarreness. Dedra is clearly much more comfortable with the spy life than Syril is; he can’t believe they can only be together for an hour before he has to leave her place. There’s one brief bit of levity when Syril, with a faint smile, says he can’t believe Dedra had him followed, but that’s it. Otherwise, it’s just weird.

When Syril turns off the lights in Dedra’s foyer, my first thought was, “I hope he doesn’t trip on his luggage,” but my second thought was, “Is Dedra ashamed of Syril? Is that why she doesn’t want to even look at him while they do what they’re doing?” It’s just … weird.

Later, after Syril wins praise from Partagaz, he asks Dedra, “If I say this is the greatest day of my life, does it spoil everything?” That’s a pretty funny moment that almost helps humanize him. But Dedra’s response — a taut “It’s good to see you happy” — just feels awkward.

Pushed to the breaking point

Ghorman and its resistance movement are clearly the center of gravity in this season of Andor, and the show invests a lot of time and energy into building out the Ghorman society — both its public pride and its private rage.

The Ghorman town-hall meeting gives us an on-the-ground look at regular people’s frustrations with Imperial rule. The Empire’s oppression is a constant theme in Star Wars stories, but those stories rarely focus on the indignities of the regular people experiencing that oppression, so I really appreciated how this story arc centered those people. The meeting, conducted by Carro Rylanz in his official capacity as an elected leader, focuses mainly on a new structure that the Imperials are building in the capital city of Palmo and the fact that the Empire lied about it not blocking a memorial in the central plaza. After hearing about this new structure — a secret armory to support the Empire’s subjugation plans — in the previous story arc, it’s nice to see how large it looms in the lives of Ghorman residents. Unsurprisingly, people are furious at the Empire for rubbing salt in the wound of its atrocity by violating its promise to respect the memorial — a perfect microcosm of its callousness.

Speaking of the atrocity, I think it’s really interesting how Andor is playing with the Expanded Universe source material on Ghorman. In episodes 4 and 5, we learn that, in 19 BBY, Tarkin killed “500 peaceful, unarmed Ghormans” by landing his cruiser on a crowd that had gathered in the city’s central plaza. This is the EU version of the Ghorman Massacre; as far as I can tell, there’s no subsequent atrocity on Ghorman in the old continuity. Ever since we learned that Andor’s second season would feature Ghorman, fans have assumed that it would depict the infamous massacre from the EU. But as we learn in this story arc, that event — now dubbed the “Tarkin Massacre” — already happened 16 years earlier. We’re almost certainly going to see the canonical “Ghorman Massacre” that inspires Mon Mothma to denounce the Emperor (as seen in Star Wars Rebels), but it won’t be at all what we expected. And I’m happy about that! Andor is respecting and incorporating the EU while simultaneously creating space to reimagine pivotal events, and that’s really exciting.

But we can’t have a massacre without a resistance movement for the ISB to scapegoat, so let’s talk about the Ghorman Front. Years of oppression have converted peaceful artisans into angry insurgents, and as Cassian and Syril enter their midst, Rylanz and his people are eager to seize the moment and strike the Empire. But Rylanz is no Luthen, and the Ghorman Front, to put it bluntly, have no idea what they’re doing. Throughout these episodes, we see numerous examples of the Ghorman rebels’ naivety.

As Syril talks to the Ghorman Front operatives after the town-hall meeting, the scene conjures up a spirit of camaraderie amidst occupation and resistance. One insurgent jokes that Enza should stay away from Syril because he’s an Imperial spy, to which he responds that he works for a non-threatening government agency, prompting everyone to exchange smiles, comfortable in their belief that Syril is essentially insulated from the machinery of Imperial cruelty. Enza and the other rebels, growing more confident that Syril is on their side, seem to savor a defiant feeling as they imagine what they’ll be able to accomplish with Syril’s help. In reality, Syril is playing them for fools, and the Ghorman Front’s eagerness to believe his performance is a stark illustration of their gullibility and inexperience.

But while the show makes it clear that the Ghorman rebels are in over their heads, it also offers a compelling rationale for their impulsiveness. Enza’s comments about business traffic to Ghorman drying up remind us why she and the other Ghorman Front operatives are so desperate to act: their very way of life is disappearing before their eyes. “It’s hard to be patient when your world is falling apart,” Enza says. And it’s not just about economic harm; the Empire has inflicted psychic wounds, too. After Cassian asks the hotel bellhop about the Tarkin Massacre, he’s told that hotel management doesn’t want staff discussing the atrocity with guests. This small detail helps illustrate the many layers of cruelty afflicting Ghorman — Imperial oppression has both taken lives and cowed the survivors into timidity, pushing them to minimize their own history of suffering to appease their tormentors.

What makes the situation even worse is that the Ghormans can’t fathom why the Empire is suddenly so interested in oppressing them. “Ghormans yearn for peace and prosperity,” Rylanz tells Syril, urging him to make that the headline of any report he writes. You can really feel Rylanz’s frustration at how badly the Empire is mischaracterizing the Ghormans, and this frustration is clearly widespread. The situation has gotten so bad that some Ghormans are ready to embrace any explanation; according to Rylanz, there are those who believe the Emperor doesn’t know what his government is doing on his behalf. This sadly misguided belief echoes the real-world naivety of many bourgeoisie in increasingly oppressive monarchies, who seek to reconcile their distaste for the regime with their reflexive admiration of its leader.

With all of this injustice as an impetus, it’s not surprising that Rylanz jumps on what he tells Cassian is a “unique opportunity” to hurt the Empire using Syril’s information. Of course, you’d have to be incredibly naive to think that the Empire would let you hijack a weapons shipment and build your own armory without massively retaliating against you. But that’s what happens when you let your indignation and inexperience get the better of you.

One last mission

Cassian may not want to get mixed up in a hopeless Ghorman uprising, but Luthen has a backup plan. After he tells Kleya that Cassian didn’t turn out to be the right operative for Ghorman, she responds that she’s already deployed two other operatives more willing to let the Ghormans take reckless risks for the good of the cause: Vel and Cinta.

As we see during their reunion at the cafe, Vel’s time apart from Cinta has been very hard on her. Compounding her stress is her fear that Cinta, the hardened killer who always puts the mission first, hasn’t been thinking about her very much. When Cinta reveals that Vel was on her mind as she recovered from a serious injury, it moves Vel to tears. It’s as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Later, during their quiet nighttime scene, Cinta admits that the rebellion has changed her, to the point where she sometimes doesn’t recognize herself anymore. Reflecting on her willingness to take on the dangerous assignment that led to her injury, she confesses, “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Like Cassian and Bix, Vel and Cinta are a cautionary tale about the role of sentiment in a rebellion. Seeing the way Vel acts around Cinta, it’s no surprise that Luthen has been keeping them on separate missions. “We’re worth more to him separately than together,” Cinta says, and she’s right. And unlike Cassian, Bix, or Cinta, Vel also has living relatives who worry about her. We see this at Davo Sculdun’s investiture party, when Luthen resists Mon’s demand for him to have Vel check in with her. Luthen obviously wants Vel focused on her mission, not her cousin. If he could have kept Cinta off of Ghorman, leaving Vel with a clear head, he would have. But as Vel reveals to Cinta, she insisted that Luthen send both of them to Ghorman.

“You’re the only reason I’m here,” Cinta says as she realizes what’s happened. Like any half-awake TV viewer, I recognized the sound of foreshadowing when I heard it. My grim suspicion grew when Vel asked Cinta about her accident and she responded, “I’ll tell you about it someday.” Their nighttime embrace was the final nail in Cinta’s coffin.

Indeed, Andor does kill Cinta at the end of the transport-hijacking operation in episode 6. But her death isn’t heroic; it’s meaningless. A rebel operative who brought a blaster to the mission (disobeying Vel’s portentous instructions to the contrary) accidentally fires a shot while grappling with another Ghorman, and it happens to hit Cinta right in the heart. Like Brasso’s death in the first story arc, Cinta’s untimely demise is a reminder of the brutal senselessness of war. Not everyone gets Cassian and Jyn Erso’s triumphant last stand. Some deaths are epic, but others are just pointless.

After Cinta’s death stuns Vel into a state of numbness, the Ghormans — whose professionalism Vel and Cinta doubted, whose eagerness they disparaged — spring into action and spirit Vel to safety. Their chaotic escape is a stark contrast with their earlier planning sessions, when Vel took command and confidently insisted that everyone stay focused and have two backup escape plans. “We’re here because you’ve never done anything like this,” Vel tells the indignant Ghorman Front operative Dreena (whose later decision to wander off with a bystander allows another bystander to arrive and instigate the scuffle that ends up killing Cinta). But when tragedy strikes, it’s Vel who’s paralyzed by the unexpected and the Ghormans whose steady hands salvage the mission.

Vel’s reaction to Cinta’s death validates Luthen’s belief that rebels work better as loners. The loss of one team member transforms her from confident leader to furious mourner. Her overwhelming grief needs an outlet, and she finds one in Samm, the rebel who accidentally killed Cinta. The scene where Vel berates Samm for his fatal carelessness is really hard to watch. Samm’s reaction to his horrible mistake is completely understandable — I’d probably be crying too. But resistance is a cold business, and crying won’t get you very far. “This is on you now,” Vel says, barely controlling herself. “This is like skin.”

Boldness and caution

Back on Coruscant, the more finely attired rebels are trying to stay one step ahead of the Empire’s plans for Ghorman. Luthen doesn’t do much in this story arc, but his one memorable Ghorman-related scene — a clandestine meeting with undercover ISB Supervisor Lonni Jung — shows how little he knows about the situation. When Lonni tells Luthen that Dedra has been placed in charge of Ghorman, Luthen finds this as puzzling as Lonni does. He points out two important facts: Dedra’s experience is in counterinsurgency, not propaganda, and propaganda is only ever the first stage of a broader plan. Lonni adds that the anti-Ghorman propaganda is “too slick” to be coming from the ISB and must be the work of an outsider. Taken together, these insights suggest that the Ghorman operation is about more than simply degrading the influential planet’s image. I like that Luthen is smart enough to recognize the importance of the Empire’s obsession with Ghorman.

But Luthen doesn’t have much time to spend thinking about Ghorman, because his assistant Kleya has uncovered a more pressing problem. Through her spying on Davo Sculdun, Kleya learns that Sculdun has discovered a forgery in his art collection and is about to inspect all of his other pieces — jeopardizing the very bug she’s using to spy on him. Removing this bug becomes Luthen and Kleya’s big challenge for the story arc. At first, it doesn’t seem like the most thrilling plotline, but it results in one of the most intense scenes in the entire show.

Even before that, though, Luthen and Kleya’s heated conversation about the wisdom of bugging Sculdun illustrates an interesting tension in their relationship. Kleya pushed the envelope with a risky plan, while Luthen urged caution and warned that mistakes would have consequences. Luthen generally favors protecting his operation unless a risk is truly worth it (like Aldhani). Kleya sees his caution as timidity and says it has made him “insufferable.” Luthen responds that their mushrooming operations have become too difficult for him to track. We haven’t seen Luthen and Kleya argue like this before, but the passage of time has clearly worn on these two.

Kleya tells Luthen that they’ll have to remove the bug at Sculdun’s investiture party. He worries that they won’t be able to pull it off, but Kleya says they have no choice. They’ll just have to get it done — and be prepared to improvise. It’s another illustration of the growing contrast between Kleya’s boldness and Luthen’s caution. Kleya puts this boldness into action at the party, forcing the serendipitously present Lonni into a ruse and making it clear that she’ll use any means necessary to accomplish her goals. Pulling in Lonni is a huge risk, but Kleya is willing to take risks that Luthen might not.

A voice in the wilderness

My favorite character in Andor, Mon Mothma, doesn’t get a lot of screen time in this story arc, but the montage of her trying to win votes to rescind the Empire’s Public Order Resentencing Directive is packed with great dialogue and political exposition. Mon’s meeting with Ghorman’s senator is particularly excellent, as we see him ruefully explain that he thinks avoiding further Imperial ire is the best way to protect his people. Like Carro Rylanz, the senator is confused by the Empire’s inexplicable hostility toward his people, but he also feels trapped by it. The tightening noose around his planet’s neck alarms him, and the fact that standing up for his people would probably only tighten that noose alarms him even further.

Ghorman’s senator has accepted the impossibility of fighting the Empire. The Imperial blockade reminded Ghorman, a “single-product economy,” of its vulnerability, he tells Mon. Now he’s just hoping to forestall any further economic or military pressure. “I am constantly begging my people to stay calm and do nothing that might make things worse,” he says. On the one hand, you really feel for this guy. Imagine being elected to stand up for your people and knowing that you can no longer fight for them without increasing their suffering. It’s a thoroughly depressing situation. But on the other hand, his defeatist approach is a losing strategy. Ghorman’s plight raises difficult questions about how to fight fascism. How much suffering is an acceptable price to pay?

Mon’s attempts to convince other senators to help her defeat the P.O.R.D. are equally futile, and each conversation seems to reveal another dimension of Senate cowardice. When Mon asks, “Are we finding criminals or making them?” her voice carries more than a hint of exasperation. She’s trying to talk sense into a group of politicians who have bought the Emperor’s lies about the need for harsher security measures. They’re all too afraid of local backlash for seeming weak on crime. When Mon cites statistics to one senator, he responds, “We can all game the numbers, Mon. And whose numbers are they? I believe what I feel.” His intransigence mirrors real-life politicians’ blithe dismissals of evidence that contradicts their worldviews. I love seeing this dynamic in Star Wars politics — of course it would be a factor in the Emperor’s ability to triumph over reason and reality. But the most chilling response to Mon comes from a senator who says it’s not a good idea for her to be linking her argument to Ghorman right now. It’s heartbreaking to watch people in power acknowledge that the Empire is arbitrarily oppressing and stigmatizing a peaceful planet and basically shrug it off.

Deep breaths of madness

If Mon’s indifferent Senate colleagues represent one end of the spectrum of responses to Imperial oppression, the opposite end of the spectrum belongs to the ruthless guerilla leader Saw Gerrera. Saw’s appearances in the second story arc barely amount to more than a cameo, but Forest Whitaker makes the most of every second on screen, resulting in one of the season’s most intense and captivating scenes.

When we meet Saw at his base on D’Qar, another Andor regular is there with him: Wilmon, whom Luthen has dispatched to help Saw’s team with a complicated operation involving the unstable starship fuel rhydonium. Wilmon’s presence is a testament to Luthen’s continued attempts at unity, but Saw quickly demonstrates that he’s too unpredictable to play well with others. After Wilmon calibrates the rhydonium machine, Saw forces him to stick around and train one of his fighters, Pluti, on how to use it. Saw essentially takes Wilmon prisoner, violating Luthen’s trust and burnishing his own reputation as a reckless extremist. Later, he tells Pluti that he plans to kill Wilmon after the operation is over, because the young man has seen too much. He dismisses the idea of blowback from Luthen, implying that he’ll make it look like an accident. Saw might be lying to Pluti, whom he eventually reveals to be an Imperial spy (something I called as soon as Pluti asked Saw where they were going), but I think he’s telling the truth. It would certainly fit with what we already know about Saw’s alienating ruthlessness and instability.

Saw’s portrayal in this story arc nicely toes the line between a fierce but masterful schemer and an outright lunatic. He catches Pluti and feeds the Empire false information, which shows how his paranoia can sometimes serve him well. But he also calls Wilmon’s machine a “she,” and he later calls rhydonium his “sister” (“I have always loved you,” he tells it as he rapturously breathes it in deep), all of which underscore his mild madness. (Fans of The Clone Wars might have felt a pang of sadness at Saw’s reference to a sister.)

To his credit, Saw doesn’t deny his madness. After telling a haunting story about his first encounter with rhydonium as a prisoner in the hot Onderon jungle, he admits that he is, in fact, crazy. But Saw doesn’t see himself as too erratic to serve the cause; he thinks madness is inevitable among those who resist. “Revolution,” he says, “is not for the sane.” He doesn’t expect to live to see the return of the Republic, but he plans to savor every moment of the liberating chaos to come.

Saw’s tour-de-force scene comes at the end of episode 5, as he urges Wilmon to tap into his own inner madness and embrace his defiant urge to fight. “We’re the rhydo, kid. We’re the fuel,” he says. “We’re the thing that explodes when there’s too much friction in the air. Let it in, boy! That’s freedom calling!” I’m still awed by this scene every time I think about it. It’s exhilarating, nerve-racking, and even frightening. Saw’s brief speech — some of Andor’s best writing yet — perfectly summarizes his view of rebellion as an unstoppable force of nature that embodies people’s explosive desire to cast off their constraints.

Other thoughts about the characters

• Syril and Eedy’s sharp-tongued banter is funny as always. (“You, of all people, should understand the attraction of being in charge,” Syril tells his mom.) And I love how Eedy skitters the toy spider across the table as she mocks her son. It must particularly grate on Syril to have to have these conversations with his mom, who thinks he was demoted because she doesn’t know what he’s really doing.
• Eedy’s disdain for the Ghormans — “they won’t get another credit of mine,” she says before insulting their society — reveals that, unsurprisingly, she’s bought the Imperial dehumanization propaganda about the Ghormans being snooty.
• Episode 4 reveals that Heert, Dedra’s former assistant, has been promoted to supervisor himself. When Dedra sees him handling an operation because of its connection to Axis, she’s clearly jealous, wishing she were back in her old job. It’s fitting that Dedra wouldn’t be able to resist asking to be read back into the Axis portfolio, and it’s funny that her former assistant is now the one telling her to focus on her own job. But when Dedra says Heert can “have all the glory” for Axis’s capture, he responds that her seeing this as a matter of glory is the problem with her. I’m not sure he’s right — Dedra doesn’t seem to be a glory hog. She seems to be focused on the job. It’s just that now she’s trying to do a job that isn’t hers anymore.
• During the ISB supervisors conference, Lonni astutely spies an opportunity to earn the gratitude of his fellow supervisors by speaking up and redirecting Partagaz’s ire. His approach is to highlight a problem beyond the control of the supervisors: their overflowing detention centers. Partagaz praises Lonni for demonstrating how ISB meetings are supposed to function, which no doubt only adds to Lonni’s misery. But Lagret thanks Lonni for redirecting Partagaz’s fire, which marks a win for Lonni’s friendship campaign.
• Later, Heert is so eager to please his superiors that he expresses his enthusiasm for the Dr. Gorst assignment. Partagaz immediately registers his disappointment with the recently promoted Heert, and Lonni takes advantage of the moment to dump the project in Heert’s lap. Lonni no doubt has enough on his hands trying to balance his actual job with his secret mission for Luthen.
• Watching Lonni play Lagret and Heert is really fun. Finally, there’s someone in the ISB bureaucracy that we can root for.
• Even the Ghorman hotel bellhop gets a nice amount of character development. We learn that his wife wants to leave Ghorman and that he beats himself up about working a few feet from the site of his father’s murder. You have to imagine that there are a lot of Ghormans with his depressing backstory.
• Given what we know Krennic is up to, it’s wonderful to see him come face to face with Mon and Luthen. The sparring between Mon and Krennic is particularly excellent. Krennic playfully observes that he’s been a witness at many of Mon’s senatorial hearings, to which she coolly responds, “How pleasant to see you free of the witness stand.”
• Krennic and Mon’s debate about the “Battle of Carmeen” is really a debate about truth, history, and who controls the message. It’s a fitting topic, given what we know is happening with Ghorman. I love how you can see Mon fighting to resist taking Krennic’s bait.
• When Mon does give in to the urge to argue with Krennic, their repartee is worthy of a West Wing episode. Mon says the Carmeen just wanted to be left alone, which Krennic rebuts by saying they forfeited that right when they murdered trespassers, which Mon counters by saying it would be unfair to judge them by Coruscant standards. Krennic laughs off the idea that lawlessness is relative (“My rebel is your terrorist”), but there’s a clear menace in his amusement — he knows that Mon is more involved in that world than she pretends to be.
• I love that Luthen jokes, “We should have killed Krennic while we were up there.” He and Kleya share a laugh at the idea, which helps them break the ice and reestablish their rapport.

Great world-building moments

• I love seeing glimpses of everyday life in Star Wars society, and I love seeing Star Wars food, so I really enjoyed the Coruscanti market scene. I want a guided tour of every shelf and display case in that shop.
• Eedy says she’s offended by Ghorman “holo-drops” criticizing the Emperor, to which Syril responds that it’s all been faked by Imperial propagandists who are feeding Eedy her beliefs. It’s not clear if that’s true about the holo-drops, but we know that, more broadly, the Empire is manufacturing anti-Ghorman sentiment, so it’s not inconceivable that they’d also manufacture some incendiary pro-Ghorman rhetoric for good measure.
• The fact that the Empire can’t process captives fast enough is a great indicator of just how rapidly the Imperial bureaucracy has expanded its machinery of oppression. It’s also a realistic phenomenon — the Empire would naturally focus its resources on tactical operations like raids and arrests, shortchanging the interrogations, processing, and other logistical tasks that follow those operations.
• Partagaz says he and Yularen are meeting with the Emperor “to discuss amplifying our intake process.” I don’t really understand why this problem needs the Emperor’s personal input, but maybe he’s a micromanager.
• Luthen says Rylanz lives a comfortable life on Ghorman. The fact that he’s now willing to lead a resistance movement underscores the extent of Imperial oppression there. This mirrors the way that real-life rebellions gain steam — even the people most insulated from oppression eventually reach their breaking point.
• Rylanz says his 19th-generation twillery is one of the youngest in Palmo, underscoring  how storied and ancient the Ghorman traditions are.
• The Ghorman Front believes that the ISB is running a shadow government. It’s a thrilling proposition, even if we know it’s not true. The ISB’s power and mystique is such that this notion is believable.
• Cassian visits the Niki-Bon Travel Agency, a shop somehow affiliated with Luthen, to get a cover identity for his trip to Ghorman. The proprietor casually talks Cassian through his backstory as he makes his way to the spaceport. It’s a nice glimpse at how complex the life of a spy is — Cassian has to ingest an entire life’s worth of information on the fly and then inhabit that persona flawlessly.
• I absolutely, positively love “Good Morning, Coruscant!” I’ve always wanted to see more media in Star Wars, especially news media and current-events programs. Just this brief glimpse at a vapid morning talk show helps illustrate how the media shapes Core-worlders’ beliefs and values. Shows like this dazzle people with celebrity gossip, numbing them to the atrocities that their government is committing on the fringes of galactic society.
• The two brainless co-hosts of “Good Morning, Coruscant!” have an exchange that perfectly encapsulates the infantilizing state of Core-world news media: When one host says she wants to talk about parties, the other host asks if she means political parties, to which the first host responds that, no, silly, she’s obviously talking about high-society parties. It’s very apt that the Imperial Senate’s “Vesting Week” is more about extravagant parties than sober reflection on the importance of responsible governance.
• Mon and Perrin’s speeder scene shows why their relationship works: They find many (albeit not all) of the same politicians and political trends annoying. They commiserate about the number of dinners they have to attend, and they bemoan the presumptuousness of the new senators hosting their own investiture banquets (apparently a new phenomenon, suggesting a growing arrogance on the part of new classes of senators). Perrin writes off the dinners as a concentrated dose of “insincerity.” It’s a funny comment, given that his wife is, in a sense, cloaking herself in insincerity almost every waking moment of her life.
• Partagaz tells Heert and Lonni that Military Intelligence has convinced the Imperial leadership to create an entire program out of Dr. Gorst’s innovative torture techniques, and that he’s assigning them “to keep watch on these idiots.” Little moments like this help expand the world of the Imperial military and intelligence bureaucracy, showing us how the ISB jealously guards its prized possessions and how it sees itself as superior to the unimaginative trigger-pullers in the regular armed forces.
• I like Heert and Lonni attending Sculdun’s party because Partagaz couldn’t make it. Obviously, the story requires Lonni to be there, but it makes sense that a couple of mid-level ISB officers would relish the unexpected opportunity to drink fancy drinks at a gathering of Coruscant’s elite. It must get boring spending all day staring at screens and inventing better ways to torture people; a party like this would be an exciting way to blow off steam. We don’t often see the political and intelligence worlds cross paths, so this was a nice treat.
• I love Luthen showing off an incredible old and valuable ring, to the amazement of other rich people who can’t believe he’s wearing it in public. He’s carefully crafting the persona of a carefree rich person who would do something like that.

I love me some lore

• It’s cool to see Saw’s base on D’Qar, given that we know it later becomes a Resistance base. It’s a fun bit of connectivity, and one that makes sense, given that the Resistance would favor hidden outposts previously used by insurgent groups.
• Kleya references a few intelligence gains from the Sculdun bug: Yularen lying, a “Holo-News buyout,” and Sculdun courting Grand Vizier Mas Amedda. Tell me more about that Holo-News buyout!
• I like that Saw’s first encounter with rhydonium happened in a work camp on Onderon, the planet where viewers of The Clone Wars first met him fighting for his people’s freedom.

Everything else…

• Production design
  • I really like the overall look of Ghorman. It perfectly captures this fading, proud artisan world.
  • I thoroughly enjoyed the montage of Syril getting ready for work and traveling to his office. From the music to his apartment decorations to his suit, it feels so delightfully 1950s Middle America.
  • Cassian’s Ghorman outfit makes him look so dashing and refined. Given what we know about him, the contrast between reality and fiction is striking.
  • I like how the Ghorman Front operatives have accents and outfits (and even actors) that evoke the French Resistance. These details are the perfect way to create a subconscious link between Andor’s story and its real-world inspirations.
  • The bright, airy settings of Mon’s Senate conversations are a nice change of pace from Cassian and Bix’s dingy slice of Coruscant.
  • I love how, in episode 5, the usual title music is distorted by a tape-rewinding sound to guide us into the opening scene of Kleya eavesdropping. It’s a great way of playing with and reimagining the title sequence.
• Pacing
  • The way Syril’s arrival montage overlaps with his conversation with Eedy is a smart, effective way of quickly reintroducing him and orienting us to his situation. And the way Syril starts to reveal his fake sympathy for the Ghormans just as we see the resistance’s bugging operation is great editing.
  • On D’Qar, Wilmon’s delicate calibration of the rhydonium machine overlaps with Saw’s grim tale about the rhydonium spill to create a very frenzied atmosphere.
  • The intercutting between Kleya removing the Sculdun bug and the Ghorman Front hijacking the cargo transport is masterful, producing an intense and thrilling sequence. Both operations are happening surreptitiously in plain sight, and both are fraught with peril, although the two dangers feel very different.
• Performances
  • Genevieve O’Reilly’s acting as Mon takes the oath of senatorial office is excellent. You can plainly see her distress at the way the Empire is forcing her and her democratically elected colleagues to profess their loyalty to the regime.
  • As I predicted on Hoth Takes, Andor recast Bail Organa. I’m really disappointed that scheduling prevented Jimmy Smits from reprising his role; he’s so great as Bail that I can’t really believe anyone else in the role. I know we’re going to see more of Bail in future episodes, and maybe I’ll change my mind after we do, but for now, I wish Andor would have just omitted him from the story rather than recasting him.
• Character development
  • When Bix explains why she’s taking a drug, Luthen reveals that he already knows about its use as a sleep aid but warns her that it doesn’t last forever. This small moment hints at his experience as a field operative.
  • Syril and Dedra’s conversation with Partagaz reveals a lot about them. Syril is proud of what he’s accomplished and eager to trumpet its results, while Dedra is cautious to a fault, terrified of overpromising or getting ahead of herself. Partagaz approves of her caution, telling her that “skeptically confident” are “words to live by.” And when Syril describes the rebels as “inexperienced but very eager,” Partagaz implies that this is true of Syril too.
  • I admire how quickly and calmly Luthen adapts to Cassian’s drop-in by conjuring a cover story about him dropping off a medallion for the shop.
• Great writing
  • During the town-hall meeting, Samm asks Syril, “How much do you understand?” Clearly thinking of his need to gather more intelligence, Syril replies, “Not enough.”
  • Mon warns Ghorman’s senator that “if we do not stand together, we will be crushed.”
• Camera work
  • I love the revelation that Cassian and Bix are hiding out right under the Empire’s nose, with the camera pulling back to show the Coruscant cityscape. As with the first story arc’s Yavin 4 reveal, it’s a great example of camera work helping to tell a story.
  • I love how Bix’s nightmare about Dr. Gorst and the soldier morphs seamlessly into real life, with Cassian delicately taking the gun from Bix’s hand.
• Lingering questions
  • Ghorman Front operative Samm asks Cassian if he’s ever done anything like hijacking a supply convoy. Does his smile suggest he’s remembering Aldhani?
  • At the party, Heert asks Lagret about his “buddy,” who we later learn to be Krennic. Why is Krennic friends with a mere ISB captain?
• Seriously random thoughts
  • Syril says two of his employees will be “choking down loyalty oaths next week just to keep their jobs,” which feels oddly timely.

Looking ahead…

At the end of episode 6, Bix sneaks into Dr. Gorst’s office, forces him into his own torture device, and seemingly kills him. It’s a ruthless way for her to confront and overcome her fears. But in brazenly blowing up Gorst’s new office, Bix and Cassian might have made things a little bit too personal. In this case, it clearly aligns with Luthen’s goal of undermining Imperial tyranny. (My assumption is that he sent them to do it based on intelligence obtained from Lonni, although admittedly it’s not explicitly stated.) But what about the next time Bix has a problem? How far will Cassian go to help or protect her? These three episodes have shown us that Cassian’s emotional attachment to Bix is clouding his judgement. It will be really interesting to see how this attachment shapes his life over the next two years.

With its intimate depictions of love, loss, and fear, Andor season 2’s second story arc brilliantly moves the narrative forward and sets up intriguing new conflicts for several of our heroes, while also sustaining and enriching the journeys of the other lead characters while they wait for their turn in the spotlight. It can’t be easy to balance this big and bold a cast of players, but these episodes showed what it looks like when a TV show gets that balancing act right.