Andor (Season 2)
Star Wars at its most grounded, political, and human
Originally envisioned as a five-season series, Andor was ultimately condensed into two after showrunner Tony Gilroy admitted the production demands were unsustainable. While that shift noticeably speeds up the deliberate pacing that made Season 1 so compelling—with a handful of developments feeling rushed—Season 2 still manages to bring Cassian Andor’s transformation from aimless outsider to rebel spy to a powerful close, while also tracing the early formation of the Rebel Alliance with remarkable clarity and weight, and exploring the impact of a fascist regime on everyday lives. It may not be the undisputed five-star achievement that Season 1 was, but it still stands as easily the best Star Wars project under Disney and competes not just within the galaxy far, far away, but alongside the most ambitious, thrilling, emotional, and accomplished works of modern franchise television.
Season 2 picks up one year after the events of the first and follows a similar structure, with every three episodes forming a self-contained arc—essentially mini-movies that work best when watched together. The key difference this time is that each arc skips forward a year, until we reach the narrative bridge into Rogue One, itself a prequel to the original Star Wars. It’s a lot of background, and the baggage is definitely part of the reward, but even so, Andor still works well enough as a standalone character-driven drama.
But Gilroy’s ambitions don’t stop there. Much like The Clone Wars animated series, part of Andor’s impact is how it enhances the franchise across timelines—past and future. It deepens the tragedy of the prequels by showing, with painful clarity, what was lost when democracy collapsed. It recontextualizes the original trilogy, sharpening the moral urgency behind the Rebellion. And it gives Rogue One more weight and emotional depth by filling in narrative gaps, making that film’s climax even more devastating. In doing so, it also gives A New Hope an added sense of scale and sacrifice.
On its own, though, Andor has all the ingredients of great television. The world-building is outstanding. The writing is intelligent and thematically rich. It delivers thrilling action set pieces that still manage to create real tension—even when we already know which characters survive. That’s quite a feat. It’ll be a shame when The White Lotus, Severance, or The Last of Us inevitably steal its thunder at the Emmys—because Andor is the more precise, ambitious, and beautifully acted show.
The cast—now fully comfortable in their roles—is once again universally outstanding, with no weak links in sight. Everyone brings something essential, to the point where nearly anyone could be named the highlight. That said, here are mine: Diego Luna’s effortless charisma can go overlooked, but he grounds everything beautifully. Genevieve O’Reilly captures Mon Mothma’s internal conflict with striking restraint. Denise Gough (Dedra) and Kyle Soller (Syril) take their characters in fascinating directions. Elizabeth Dulau’s Kleya unexpectedly becomes the emotional anchor of the season. And Stellan Skarsgård delivers the best performance of his long career. The brief returns of Ben Mendelsohn and Forest Whitaker are also standouts—you can’t take your eyes off them when they’re on screen.
The season’s arcs follow a familiar rhythm: the first episode of each arc may feel a bit slow, but each one steadily builds toward a propulsive, often explosive conclusion. The first arc culminates with a single, cutting line from Luthen (“How nice for you”) that completely shifts Mon Mothma’s trajectory. The second features a thrilling heist, juxtaposed with an incredibly tense sequence where Kleya must carefully remove a listening device hidden inside a piece of art. The third arc, centered around the Ghorman massacre, becomes the season’s emotional crescendo—ending in a desperate and thrilling escape. Finally, the last arc brings everything full circle, connecting directly to Rogue One while delivering emotional farewells and meaningful thematic resolution.
The show’s moral questions remain some of its richest material. Characters wrestle with the cost of resistance. The Rebellion, as portrayed here, could never have formed without people like Luthen, who willingly sacrifice entire cities to move the cause forward. Watching Cassian and Mon Mothma navigate these conflicting ideals brings out some of the most intellectually satisfying moments in the series. Meanwhile, Syril continues his obsessive descent in a Javert-like arc—coming to realize, in his own way, that the Empire isn’t as righteous as he once believed. Moments of humor also land surprisingly well, particularly with K-2SO, whose dry wit offers some much-needed levity without undercutting the final episode’s weight.
Visually, the series remains immaculate. Ditching The Mandalorian’s StageCraft technology in favor of real sets and location shooting makes a massive difference. Andor might be the best-looking TV show ever made. The effects are impressive, but it’s the sets and environments that shine—lived-in, weathered, and textured to perfection (shout-out to the changes made for the safe house seen throughout the season and the Ghorman square). I also appreciated how the score, which in Season 1 leaned heavily into modern thriller tones, gradually transitions into something more sweeping and orchestral. So when the John Williams Star Wars theme finally appears in the closing credits, it feels completely earned.
Still, for all its strengths, the pacing isn’t as refined as in Season 1. That’s the cost of compressing what was originally meant to span four seasons into just twelve episodes. In some cases, the condensed structure helps—giving the Ghorman arc urgency and emphasizing the fast, brutal spread of fascism. But especially in the final stretch, things feel rushed. The foundation of Yavin 4, Dedra’s reckoning, and several emotional climaxes deserved more space to land. That final arc could easily have filled a whole season.
Gilroy has said he’s ready to move on—and fair enough, he’s earned it. But Lucasfilm should continue to raise the bar, and a natural next step would be exploring the murky years between Return of the Jedi and The Force Awakens. It’s an era just waiting for its own Andor-level storytelling—though that would certainly take more than two seasons to do it justice.