Andor season 1 recap: taking down his hero by building his home

It creeps up on you how well you know Ferrix by the end Andor‘s first season. At first, it’s deceptively similar to Tatooine: a miserable place meant to be left behind by its protagonist, swept away by more exciting things we’ve come to expect from Star Wars. And even though Cassian Andor is leaving to have those Star Wars adventures, Andor never quite leaves Ferrix. It lingers in details: the wall where workers hang their gloves at the end of a shift, or the bell tower where a sturdy man strikes an anvil with ceremonial grace. There are social movements such as the Daughters of Ferrix, a small but active smuggling network, and corporate cops with whom the working class have developed sophisticated methods to mess with.

None of this is ever fully explained to the viewer. They’re just visiting, and Andor it’s okay if you overlook Ferrix at first. But maybe not the end. In the end, the viewer might feel like they’re part of something.

AndorThe season one finale does something remarkable with its climax. It’s shrinking, bringing most of its various actors – ISB officer Dedra Meero, the remaining rebels in the burgeoning movement, saboteur Luthen Rael and wannabe Imperial Syril Karn – back to Ferrix. It’s Maarva Andor’s funeral, and the many people hunting Cassian Andor rightly assume he can’t resist paying respects to his adoptive mother.

in the AndorIn his recent visits to Ferrix, the Empire has effectively taken over the place. The Imperials have slowly swelled the crowded streets of the city, watching everything and making an already tenuous existence all but impossible. They take people like Bix who may know of rebellious activity and torture them until they can barely stand. They’re a nuisance on an already bleak horizon, and that’s before they deploy more troops to take down Cassian.

Much of the final episode revolves around Maarva’s funeral. It is an elaborate, beautiful, and somber cause, steeped in ceremonies that both honor and imbue with grace Ferrix’s working-class roots. There is a procession and a marching band and a stone to honor them, all of which juxtaposes the increasing Imperial presence like two lines of fuel flowing through the streets. Then, when a posthumous message from Maarva speaks of defiance, of the boot sitting on Ferrix’s neck for too long, a spark sets the town ablaze.

Andorhow Adam Serwer of The Atlantic wrotealways took care of it why People in the Star Wars universe choose the sides they do.

“The show is populated by ordinary people who become revolutionaries or Imperial cronies, not just wizard monks, space cowboy smugglers, or ruthless bounty hunters,” Serwer writes. “Similarly, the factions of the show, whether part of the Rebels or the Empire, are not monolithic but are riddled with their own divisions and rivalries. In other words, the show cares about What kind of person join the rebels or become imperial and why.”

This philosophy finds its place in Ferrix. in the AndorIn the first season of almost every character has to decide where they stand, and this turning point is different for each character. Some, like the young, radical Manifesto writer Nemik, seem morally opposed to empire from the start, and oppose it simply because it is morally defensible. Others, like Mon Mothma, believe they can safely resist within the system while still clinging to their scruples – something she is proven wrong when she is forced to contend with one in the season’s final episodes Deal with white-collar criminals if they want to do their part. She surprises herself and accepts the offer, even if it means marrying off her daughter to a criminal heir.

Few, however, have to be more convincing than Cassian Andor. From the start, showrunner Tony Gilroy and the writers he has worked with have made it clear that Cassian is no fool. He’s a man who knows what the Empire is doing and will never play along, but since he regularly insists on rebels like Vel Sartha, there’s no point in fighting the system, just getting what’s his. Even going to jail didn’t change his attitude, it only fueled his determination to run away and disappear.

Cassian is running from the person we know got caught up in it Villain One, and despite a keen sense of self-preservation, it’s not the island he’d like to be. He has people, and those people are on Ferrix – even if, like Maarva, all he can do is say goodbye.

So Cassian Andor returns to Ferrix, the place that gave him his name, the place where he stopped being Kenari’s Kassa and became someone else, someone angrier. And on Ferrix, he finally sees the limits of his lonely form of rage when B2EMO sends a posthumous message from Maarva, inspiring her mourners to action to rise up against the Imperials, who are slowly suffocating her for no good reason. All of Ferrix take part in the ensuing revolt: the man in the belfry, the workers and traders, the daughters of Ferrix. They gain something powerful in their rebellion, just as Andor loses everything.

Andor writes his thesis on the streets of this forgotten town – rebellions must be personal, but that is only the first step. They must also be communal, crossing different socio-economic boundaries and ideologies, united by a simple idea: Enough. Once that connection is made, a rebellion can turn into a revolution. On the streets of Ferrix, rebels become rebels. It’s where Cassian Andor is broken and ready to be rebuilt into someone who can help shape this shared rage after finally pushing his own limits.