The Mandalorian and Grogu review: This isn't a Star Wars movie but it's still a damn good time

This movie probably shouldn't exist, but I'm glad it does

What defines “a Star Wars movie”? Is it the Force? Lightsabers? A white dude with the last name Skywalker?

Outside of a “galaxy far far away” setting, I’d argue that none of these factors are necessary in the post-Andor era. Instead, there's a sense of scale and scope, both visual and thematic, that defines the franchise. You need big set pieces and even bigger stakes. But more importantly, you need a sense that whatever adventure is unfolding onscreen feeds into the larger conflict of good versus evil. (Even the original 1977 Star Wars makes it clear we're just watching one chapter in a story that stretches backward and forward for generations — and that was before George Lucas renamed it Episode IV: A New Hope.)

The Mandalorian and Grogu has none of these things. Sure, the set pieces are bigger than what we've seen on the Disney Plus series The Mandalorian, stretched by director Jon Favreau to fill the biggest of IMAX screens, but they lack the sweeping grandeur of the preceding movies. More egregiously, the stakes are nonexistent, both for our pair of heroes and for the saga at large. Instead, The Mandalorian and Grogu is a self-contained story that more than rises to the challenge of feeling like a capital M Movie (a commendable achievement for what could have just been a streaming special in another timeline) but fails to feel like a Star Wars Movie in anything but branding.

The Mandalorian and Grogu technically takes place after the events of both The Mandalorian season 3 and Ahsoka season 1, but none of that really matters. Everything you need to know is revealed in a static title card (no crawling text here), which explains that the masked Mandalorian known as Din Djarin (voiced by Pedro Pascal, with much of the physical performance done by Lateef Crowder and Brendan Wayne) and his puppet friend Grogu (aka Baby Yoda) are now working as bounty hunters for the fledgling New Republic. Reporting to Colonel Ward (Sigourney Weaver), they track down various Empire supporters hiding out on the outskirts of the galaxy.

After botching a fact-finding mission in the opening scene, Mando is assigned to track down a mysterious "Commander Coyne." To locate the Imperial leader, he first needs to find and rescue Rotta the Hutt, the last surviving heir to Jabba (voiced by Jeremy Allen White). If you've watched a Star Wars movie, you might expect this premise to quickly expand into a bigger adventure built on themes of destiny and heroism. It doesn't. But if you've watched The Mandalorian, you can probably guess where this story does go as Mando and Grogu pick up a new ally and then proceed to defy direct orders when their mission conflicts with their moral code.

The Mandalorian and Grogu avoids feeling like an extra-long episode of The Mandalorian (or three episodes strung together) by building a story across multiple acts with various twists and turns along the way and a climactic finale that goes beyond anything Disney Plus could ever muster. It's a movie with multiple acts that fit together to tell a larger story than the show ever has. The Chicago-inspired planet Shakari that Mando and Grogu visit to initially find Rotta feels excitingly new for Star Wars. Unlike the artificial cityscapes of Coruscant, this crime-ridden, neon-soaked planet practically vibrates to the beat of dystopian capitalism, and I could see the franchise returning to Shakari either in a future movie or an animated show like Maul. Longtime Mandalorian composer Ludwig Göransson, who's done more to keep this IP fresh than almost anyone in the past decade, gives Shakari a dark techno soundtrack that's unlike anything I've heard in a Star Wars movie, while also feeling completely natural.

Much of the movie also takes place on a Dagobah-like planet controlled by the Hutts full of murky swamps, towering trees, Hutt-made structures that disappear into the scenery, and a small army of refurbished Separatist droids. The entire planet feels immersive and teeming with life, offering a fresh spin on Jabba's old Tatooine palace. Here, Favreau mixes and matches various Star Wars tropes and visuals to create something both totally new but instantly familiar.

That swampy setting is where Favreau gets closest to evoking the feeling of classic Star Wars, but the story itself never materializes to back it up. Instead, we get a plot that's mostly inconsequential in the long run. Mando, who's grown plenty over the course of three seasons of television, doesn't evolve at all in the span of two hours. Grogu gets a bit more of a shot at becoming an actual character, but since he's a non-speaking hydraulic puppet, what this actually means for the movie is several lengthy sequences with almost no dialogue as Baby Yoda putters around the swamp. I'm honestly impressed by how far Favreau is willing to lean into this weirder aspect of the story, even if I found it to be pretty boring after the first few minutes of what's ultimately a 20-minute silent film jammed into the middle of a totally different movie.

Two more important factors for a Star Wars movie in my book: creatures and spaceship combat. Both are a mixed bag here, at best. The Mandalorian and Grogu has some impressive creature design — especially a pair of stop-motion robots designed by Lucasfilm legend Phil Tippett and a giant Dragonsnake that mixes CGI with a life-sized prop — but a lot of what we see feels generic. One promising monster brawl becomes a cacophony of CGI slurry that even George Lucas would be ashamed of.

As for the spaceships, we get some pretty solid dogfighting early in the film that will scratch a very specific itch for audiences. However, when it matters most, Favreau leans too far into VFX, and the result winds up looking like the Battle of Geonosis from the end of Attack of the Clones, which, depending on when you were born, is either glowing praise or a fatal critique.

The truth is, The Mandalorian and Grogu isn't a movie for long-time Star Wars fans; it's a desperate attempt to cultivate a new generation before it's too late. Baby Yoda was a once-in-a-generation character whose appeal has more to do with his visual design than the canon and lore that surrounds him (a tradition that dates back to the very beginning of Star Wars). Jon Favreau understands this better than anyone. He's made a movie seemingly built around cute cutaways to Grogu and occasional reference to something older Star Wars fans will recognize. The kids will go home happier than anyone still seething over the prequel trilogy.

The fact that Favreau managed to do all that while also producing something that still feels like a movie at all actually feels like an incredible achievement. But the fact that The Mandalorian and Grogu fails to be “a Star Wars Movie” means it probably never should have been made.

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The Mandalorian and Grogu releases in theaters on May 22.