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Disposable Soldiers Watch Democracy Crumble in Star Wars: The Bad Batch

The Star Wars prequels have been getting something of a re-evaluation lately. Maybe it’s a case of first-wave Millennial nostalgia, as the grown-up children of the ’90s reconnect with the media they remember, like the Boomers watching Happy Days. There is certainly that element, but I think the prequels are aging well because George Lucas’ overarching story of the fall of the Old Republic looks increasingly prescient.

The latest Disney+ animated series, Star Wars: The Bad Batch, begins as the prequel trilogy is reaching its climax. Like its live-action cousin The Mandalorian, The Bad Batch spins stories outside of the suffocating shadow of the Skywalker family melodrama. World-building has always been the franchise’s strong suit, so there are plenty of implied side stories in the galaxy far, far away to mine for material.

To me, one of the most profound questions the universe poses is raised in one of its filmic low points. Attack of the Clones is emblematic of the prequels, in both its strengths and weaknesses. The visuals are ahead of their time — no one else in the special effects game could touch turn-of-the-century Industrial Light & Magic, and Lucas retained his sharp eye for design until he retired. But he also seemingly forgot how to delegate, and he badly needed a writer. But success is an insidious poison, and so we got one of the worst on-screen romances ever, and a jumbled presentation of what is actually a compelling story of politics and manipulation. In the early days of the War on Terror, the story was a reminder of the dangers of an out-of-control security state.

Omega (above), voiced by Michelle Ang, is a deviant clone in Dave Filoni’s Star Wars: The Bad Batch, a spin-off of the Clone Wars series.

Senator Palpatine, who is secretly the evil space wizard Darth Sidious, engineers a separatist threat to the Galactic Republic and uses the crisis to have himself declared chancellor, and as an excuse to build an army of clones. As the Clone Wars grind on, Palpatine grooms his vainglorious apprentice Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader, then orders his clone armies to ambush and kill their Jedi commanders.

That moment — known as “Order 66” — is the heart-rending climax of Revenge of the Sith; Obi Wan and Anakin’s fateful lightsaber duel pales in comparison. The clones, bred for the sole purpose of combat and forced by implanted chips to betray their comrades, become tragic figures in The Clone Wars animated series, which was finally given the ending it deserved by Disney+ last year. The Bad Batch is a group of elite clone commandos introduced in the final season. They are defective units rescued from disposal by Kamino’s clone master Nala Se (Gwendoline Yeo) for experimental upgrades. Their names are their purpose: Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, and Echo are all voiced by Dee Bradley Baker. The Bad Batch’s defects are their strengths, and when Order 66 comes in as they are backing Jedi master Depa Billaba (Archie Panjabi), they find that their controlling chips don’t work. Hunter, experiencing his first taste of free will in the midst of a galaxy-wide political upheaval, secretly lets Depa’s padawan escape.

The Order 66 sequence in the 70-minute pilot episode takes on unexpected relevance in the wake of the January 6th insurrection at the Capitol. As the assembled clones on Kamino listen to Palpatine announce the creation of the Empire, the Bad Batch realize it’s wrong but don’t quite know what to do about it. When Admiral Tarkin (Stephen Stanton, doing an uncanny Peter Cushing imitation) arrives to take command of the clones, he orders the commandos on a mission to mop up a group of separatist insurgents. When you’re a clone, nothing stops the Forever War. As they leave, a deviant female clone named Omega (Michelle Ang) begs them to take her. But the Separatists turn out to be a group of refugees from the Republic led by Saw Gerrera (Andrew Kishino), and the Bad Batch decide to desert, but not before returning to Kamino to retrieve Omega.

Led by Clone Wars and The Mandalorian writer/producer Dave Filoni, The Bad Batch expertly zeroes in on the questions of free will raised by the creation of semi-disposable, sentient clones. But more than an A.I. cautionary tale, the show’s themes could not be more relevant, such as, how much loyalty does an oppressed class owe a flawed democracy? The second episode reverts to a more conventional sci-fi escape story, but the background of a society losing its freedom and self-determination serves as a stark warning in these perilous times.

Star Wars: The Bad Batch is streaming on Disney+.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

2020 on Screen: The Best and Worst of Film and TV

There’s no denying that 2020 was an unprecedented year, so I’m doing something unprecedented: combining film and TV into one year-end list.

Steve Carrell sucking up oxygen in Space Force.

Worst TV: Space Force

Satirizing Donald Trump’s useless new branch of the military probably seemed like a good idea at the time. But Space Force is an aggressively unfunny boondoggle that normalizes the neo-fascism that almost swallowed America in 2020.

John David Washington (center) and Robert Pattinson (right) are impeccably dressed secret time agents in Tenet.

Worst Picture: Tenet

Christopher Nolan’s latest gizmo flick was supposed to save theaters from the pandemic. Instead, it was an incoherent, boring, self-important mess. You’d think $200 million would buy a sound mix with discernible dialogue. I get angry every time I think about this movie.

We Can’t Wait

Best Memphis Film: We Can’t Wait

Lauren Ready’s Indie Memphis winner is a fly-on-the-wall view of Tami Sawyer’s 2019 mayoral campaign. Unflinching and honest, it’s an instant Bluff City classic.

Grogu, aka The Child, aka Baby Yoda

Best Performance by a Nonhuman: Grogu, The Mandalorian

In this hotly contested category, Baby Yoda barely squeaks out a win over Buck from Call of the Wild. Season 2 of the Star Wars series transforms The Child by calling his presumed innocence into question, transforming the story into a battle for his soul.

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton

Most Inspiring: Hamilton

The year’s emotional turning point was the Independence Day Disney+ debut of the Broadway mega-hit. Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop retelling of America’s founding drama called forth the better angels of our nature.

Film About a Father Who

Best Documentary: Film About a Father Who

More than 35 years in the making, Lynne Sachs’ portrait of her mercurial father, legendary Memphis bon vivant Ira Sachs Sr., is as raw and confessional as its subject is inscrutable. Rarely has a filmmaker opened such a deep vein and let the truth bleed out.

Cristin Milioti in Palm Springs

Best Comedy: Palm Springs

Andy Samberg is stuck in a time loop he doesn’t want to break until he accidentally pulls Cristin Milioti in with him. It’s the best twist yet on the classic Groundhog Day formula, in no small part because of Milioti’s breakthrough performance. It perfectly captured the languid sameness of the COVID summer.

Soul

Best Animation: Soul

Pixar’s Pete Docter, co-directing with One Night in Miami writer Kemp Powers, creates another little slice of perfection. Shot through with a love of jazz, this lusciously animated take on A Matter of Life and Death stars Jamie Foxx as a middle school music teacher who gets his long-awaited big break, only to die on his way to the gig. Tina Fey is the disembodied soul who helps him appreciate that no life devoted to art is wasted.

Jessie Buckley

Best Performance: Jessie Buckley, I’m Thinking of Ending Things

Buckley is the acting discovery of the year. She’s perfect in Fargo as Nurse Mayflower, who hides her homicidal mania under a layer of Midwestern nice. But her performance in Charlie Kaufman’s mind-bending psychological horror is a next-level achievement. She conveys Lucy’s (or maybe it’s Louisa, or possibly Lucia) fluid identity with subtle changes of postures and flashes of her crooked smile.

Isiah Whitlock Jr., Norm Lewis, Delroy Lindo, Clarke Peters, and Jonathan Majors in Da 5 Bloods.

MVP: Spike Lee

Lee dropped not one but two masterpieces this year. Treasure of the Sierra Madre in the jungle, the kaleidoscopic Vietnam War drama Da 5 Bloods reckons with the legacy of American imperialism with an all-time great performance by Delroy Lindo as a Black veteran undone by trauma, greed, and envy. American Utopia is the polar opposite; a joyful concert film made in collaboration with David Byrne that rocks the body while pointing the way to a better future. In 2020, Lee made a convincing case that he is the greatest living American filmmaker.

Rhea Seehorn and Bob Odenkirk in Better Call Saul

Best TV: Better Call Saul

How could Vince Gilligan and Peter Gould’s prequel to the epochal Breaking Bad keep getting better in its fifth season? The writing is as sharp as ever, and Bob Odenkirk’s descent from the goofy screwup Jimmy McGill to amoral drug cartel lawyer Saul Goodman is every bit the equal of Bryan Cranston’s transformation from Walter White to Heisenberg. This was the season that Rhea Seehorn came into her own as Kim Wexler. Saul’s superlawyer wife revealed herself as his equal in cunning. If she can figure out what she wants in life, she will be the most dangerous character in a story filled with drug lords, assassins, and predatory bankers.

Michael Stuhlbarg and Elisabeth Moss in Shirley.

Best Picture: Shirley

Elisabeth Moss is brilliant as writer Shirley Jackson in Josephine Decker’s experimental biographical drama. Michael Stuhlbarg co-stars as her lit professor husband, Stanley Edgar Hyman, who is at once her biggest fan and bitterest enemy. Into this toxic stew of a relationship is dropped Rose (Odessa Young), the pregnant young wife of Hyman’s colleague Fred (Logan Lerman), who becomes Shirley’s muse/punching bag. If Soul is about art’s life-giving power, Shirley is about art’s destructive dark side. Shirley is too flinty and idiosyncratic to get mainstream recognition, but it’s a stunning, unique vision straight from the American underground.