Whether you enjoy “The Mandalorian and Grogu” depends entirely on what you want from your “Star Wars” these days. Don’t get me wrong, the film is entertaining and it’s easy to get lost in director Jon Favreau’s version of Star Wars, where every frame is packed with stunningly designed aliens and monsters. Yet, it’s hard not to feel underwhelmed by a movie that feels like “content” more than a true theatrical experience.
There was a time when a new “Star Wars” movie hitting theaters felt like a seismic, world-stopping event. It was a monocultural moment that demanded you drop everything, buy a ticket, and prepare to be transported to a long time ago and a galaxy far, far away. Walking out of “The Mandalorian and Grogu,” I didn’t feel the earth move and my inner child still lay dormant. Instead, I felt like I had just watched a pretty decent, huge budget, three-episode block of television on a massive IMAX screen.
It is a deeply mixed bag of a movie. The film is charming in stretches and maddeningly formulaic in others. Yet, its very existence tells us more about how our culture’s relationship to this galaxy has evolved than anything happening on screen.
Pedro Pascal remains a treasure, anchoring the film with a weary, soulful paternal warmth that pierces straight through his cold Beskar helmet. His dynamic with Grogu is still the beating heart of this corner of the franchise. When the movie slows down to let them exist as an unconventional father and son, it works beautifully, even as it leaves me impatient for the franchise to let Grogu grow up.
The foundling colloquially known as Baby Yoda is still adorable and wordlessly and effortlessly carries long stretches of the film. The astonishing puppeteering work makes it feel like a real evolution of the art form that would have made Jim Henson proud. But we’ve been treated to the adventures of The Mandalorian and Grogu across six years and a few dozen hours of episodes. I’m not saying we need Grogu to be Yoda all of a sudden, but there’s a baffling moment in the film where Mando tells Grogu to “heel.” Are we supposed to think that Mando treats Baby Yoda like a dog, or is it a throwaway joke meant to illuminate how much of a lil’ baby Grogu remains? Even when Grogu proves he’s smarter than we think, it feels like too little, too late.
Visually, the jump to the big screen gives us a few dazzling set-pieces. The neon-drenched cityscape of Shakari throws Favreau’s “Blade Runner” inspirations onto the screen with reverence, rather than pastiche and I would watch an entire Disney + series set on this grimy, gorgeous world. All of this is elevated by Ludwig Göransson’s thunderous, synth-infused score. Aside from the gorgeous design and world-building, the music is the highlight of the entire film. I would bump this score in the whip without fear of people pointing and laughing.
But for every moment that soars, the film is dragged back down by the gravity of modern franchise filmmaking. The narrative is relentlessly thin. Mando is told to go to Location A, talk to an alien, grab MacGuffin B, and move on to the next set piece. At times, when a plot point is resolved, where the plot of the movie is resolved, the characters almost seem to look around, waiting to be told what to do next. There’s no momentum here, just an episodic tale set in a world most of us love, following characters we know have plot armor, leaving us with zero tension.
The stakes are incredibly low for a theatrical release. The villains (a pair of Hutt twins) are largely forgettable, and the emotional arcs remain stationary, as if the writers were contractually mandated not to let these characters fundamentally change before the next inevitable Disney+ season or sequel. It’s a pleasant popcorn flick that kids and fans of Pascal and Grogu will devour, but it remains an episode of “The Mandalorian” masquerading as a cinematic event.
“The Mandalorian and Grogu” might signify a shift in our cultural relationship with Star Wars. For decades, Star Wars was precious, fiercely protected by fans, and approached with nerdy reverence. Today, that reverence has transformed into something much more casual. It has transitioned from a cinematic touchstone into a disposable, comfort-food streaming mainstay.
The franchise has fractured into distinct lanes for different audiences. On one end, masterpieces like “Andor” treat the universe as a complex, terrifyingly bureaucratic dystopia rooted in high-stakes political thriller storytelling. On the other end, “The Mandalorian and Grogu” strips away all complexity in favor of pure, joyful, low-stakes entertainment targeted directly at families and a new generation of younger viewers.
This isn’t inherently a bad thing. There is a genuine joy in watching kids light up at a theater screen when Grogu does something adorable. But there is something mildly depressing about watching the stories you grew up with stop growing with you. I’m not ready to age out of Star Wars.
Ultimately, “The Mandalorian and Grogu” is a perfectly acceptable, intermittently exciting space adventure. It won’t challenge you, it won’t redefine the franchise or push the mythos into innovative areas of storytelling, and it certainly doesn’t match the soaring heights of the series’ early years (or even the first two seasons of “The Mandalorian.”) It’s a lightweight, forgettable ride that reminds us that even at its most homogeneous, it’s still pretty fun to check in with that corner of the galaxy from time to time.
“The Mandalorian and Grogu”
Dir. John Favreau
Grade: C+
Now Playing at Regal Old Mill, McMenamins Old St. Francis, Sisters Movie House, Redmond Cinema, Madras Cinema 5
This article appears in the Source May 28, 2026.
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