Comedy
Leanne
‘Leanne’ models the sitcoms of yesteryear, though its frequent sexual banter and poor views of marriage may leave families saying, “I don’t.”
Even in brick form, Din Djarin isn’t much of a party guy.
How would the Mandalorian even drink party punch? He never takes off his helmet if someone’s nearby. I guess he could use a straw, but the cheese platter would be right out.
Plus, he has a reputation to uphold. The Mandalorian—or Mando, as some call him—has spent most of his career shunning personal attachments and polishing his image as a fearsome, independent bounty hunter. As his one-time employer tells it, he “was the loneliest loner who ever loned.”
But on this occasion—whatever this occasion is—he’ll make an exception. Turns out, he’s made quite a few friends on his adventures, and they’re all in attendance. Plus, his little green ward would sure like to drink some of that blue stuff.
LEGO Star Wars: The Mandalorian brings Mando and that ward (Grogu by name, Baby Yoda by reputation) into the famed Cantina in Mos Eisley. The party’s host appears to be Peli Motto—a starship mechanic of some renown and one of Mando’s few longtime friends. And she’s determined not to let her guest of honor get away.
“Mando, you are going to have fun today, whether you have fun or not,” Peli threatens.
And thus the Cantina—filled not with scum and villainy, but some of the many, many characters who’ve met and helped the Mandalorian along his way—gets the lowdown on three seasons-worth of adventures.
But outside lurks the nefarious, plant-like Dorian Shard—apparently the nephew of the even more nefarious (and presumably dead) pirate king Gorian Shard. He hopes to exact his leafy revenge on Mando and everyone Mando holds dear.
Most of what we see in LEGO Star Wars: The Mandalorian is clipped right from the live-action Mandalorian series—restructured, of course, in bricks and tiles. The stories themselves are given a bit of a makeover, too. While The Mandalorian can be rather grim, bloody and relentlessly lethal, this LEGO-based retelling is far, far easier for littler Star Wars fans to digest.
Oh, we do see plenty of violence and death is implied. But it’s hard to feel too emotionally distraught when the victims are small pieces of plastic. We see minifigures shot by blasters and knocked back via animated explosives. They get presumably hacked by lightsabers, too (though the action is so fast and minifigs are so durable that you’ll not see any lopped-off limbs or shish kebabbing), and sometimes you’ll hear some comical groans offscreen.
We also hear about when and how characters die. But those characters, like LEGOs themselves, are a resilient lot. When someone asks IG-11 (an assassin droid) how he’s managing to attend the party when he was destroyed in the first season, he says, “I got better. Then I got destroyed again. Then I got better again. It’s sort of what I do.”
As you’d expect, Star Wars’ spiritual Force is an inescapable part of this show. (“We are strong because we are a family,” Mando tells us. “And because Grogu can move stuff by just waving at it.”) As you might not expect, we’re treated to a few crass, elbow-to-the-rib moments aimed squarely at adults. In one scene, for instance, Peli tells a couple of characters to desist from their “ship-measuring contest.” And when the plant-like Dorian Shard sticks himself in a flowerpot and starts throwing dirt on himself, someone quips, “Look, he’s soiling himself!”
But these moments are rare. And really, the biggest problem with LEGO Star Wars: The Mandalorian might be its role as an extraordinarily effective advertisement for the LEGO sets themselves, certainly part of the show’s own primary directive. (The first thing I did after watching this special was to price Mando’s original LEGO spaceship.)
But those perils aside, LEGO Star Wars: The Mandalorian neatly cuts down three seasons of Mandalorian lore into a 45-minute, funny, sweet and kid-friendly package. Why? Well, when it comes to LEGO, this is the way.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out. )
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
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