The brilliance behind the “Tales of Star Wars” side chapters is that they feel like simple novellas, bound together by creative animation, impeccable writing, and focus on ensuring to fill in the blanks throughout the long, glorious canvas that the IP of Star Wars is forever embraced as in this present day and age.
I confess I want to see more from my favorite universe. The narrative has harnessed a new level of maturity while developing a stable focus on human emotions tangled within the long-overarching, forever-in-flux lore. This allows the next director or storyteller to play in the sandbox, invoking new aspirations to create some genuine or in-service.
It’s straightforward to confess and admit that “Tales of The Jedi” took viewers deeper into the pain and isolation of losing one’s faith and forgetting purpose with the characters of Count Dooku and Ahsoka as the Knights on the chessboard. Now we all know that Emperor Palpatine was pulling the strings, which were built to the eventual fall of the Jedi due to the hubris and fragmented morality that only continued to fester as the Republic was pulled into a war they had no part of being in, something that the Prequel films showcase.
However, one lingering thread that evaded many was the confession of what led to Dooku’s fall to the Dark Side, his motivations, and the value of why. Writers have crafted a canvas surrounded by the choice and awareness of his ties to the Jedi withering away.
His descent emerges as the young Master sees how the galaxy is rotting, corrupt politicians controlling territories, and the Jedi playing the role of “peacekeeper” being manipulated like marionettes while the senate, which at this point was either slowly or already under the control of the Emperor, or other Sith, are led astray as on the outside nothing is changing.
It is not until the final thread binding Dooku to the light is cut that Darth Maul kills his apprentice, Qui-Gon Jinn, leading to the culmination of guilt that Dooku knows everything to come. No one listened as the dominos fell, setting off the birth of the empire and the oncoming genocide of the Jedi.
“Tales of the Jedi” does a great job of showing and not telling as the screenplay illustrates the pain Dooku harbors in innocent blood being split along the blade of his lightsaber, once blue, full of hope, now straddled and stained red with lingering regret of silencing Yaddle. It’s the moment the viewer waits for: the salivating aroma of when the hero falls to the seduction of the darkness.
The lightsaber ignites, and the battle ensues between old and new allegiances and ideals, which molds Dooku into Darth Trynanus as the solemn truth echoes out, “How many have died from my actions.” It’s a simple exposition, but it bears weight that it’s too late, and the fate of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire was fated to occur, and reality folds in as he tries to prevent it, but understanding it’s too late.
On the other hand, as a fan, it’s great to see the rise of a prominent Sith Lord due to the distrust and frustration of knowing hubris blinded his creed to the point of insolence, leading to the extinction of their culture, ushering in the darkness that took years to envelop. However, as a character, it’s horrifying to witness.
This leads to the notion that the Dooku flashbacks showed the fall of a hero, which meant the Ahsoka-led episodes show the birth of hope that sadly erodes into isolation, as the Republic is left in ashes as the oncoming storm disguised as prophecy comes to fruition, leaving the Galaxy and timeline in a period of chaos.
Of course, there is a sense of beauty as we are shown Ahsoka’s childhood and the joyous harmony of her people living in peace, disconnected, tethered to the land, only for the Jedi to interfere and pluck the fan-favorite from her utopia into the clouded regression of peacekeeper to child soldier. The character of Ahsoka could, in many ways, be presented as an extension of the audience, as we witness a new layer of why “Anakin fell to the Darkside and became Vader.”
For years, many have always said Skywalker fell because of the lie that the Emperor could save Padme. With the inclusion of Clone Wars, fans were treated to a more profound magnification of the pain and turmoil that Anakin not only witnessed but was forced to embrace and bear witness. Anakin and Ahsoka are brother and sister, child soldiers manipulated by regimes, afraid to take control as it never ends.
Many have already heard all of this, but think and confess: who were the villains during the prequels, and what are the principles of the Jedi, Empire, and Republic? It’s a severe confession as the glass house under the guise of the temple is left broken by the smallest of rocks in the mismanagement of leadership.
Now, with “Tales of the Empire,” the main takeaway and thesis of the series was the juxtaposition of witnessing survivors’ guilt and the choices of trying to endure while tip-toeing the line of whether you create the fire or temper them. It’s a visual feast of history that continues to flow down the river as characters repeat the same mistakes and follow in the muted footsteps of tragedy that rampaged before as the world burns.
Once again, the sophomore season is a loose collection of side two different characters that feel similar as the first three episodes follow the eventual uprising of Morgan Elsbeth (Diana Lee Inosanto), who, for once, we got to see her backstory as a survivor and sole reminder of her tribe, as one of the witches of Dathomir only to give in to the creed of the Dark side.
Fear mangled her future, which was easy to understand. Once again, the titles plucked from the wisdom Master Yoda once laid out to Anakin are excellent symbols of how pain and anger fester into pure malice. First, starting with the “Path of Fear,” “Path of Anger” and “Path of Hate.”
All fold inward as we see Elsbeth take control of Corvus and be given an opportunity from Admiral Thrawn (Lars Mikkelsen). This small choice helps bring the gap from animation to live-action, devolution manifesting over the years, coming full circle to her death at the hands of Ahsoka. The primary element of praise was to see easter eggs from the closing days of the Clone Wars, with the Separatists, and the inclusion of a fan-favorite villain that left me feeling like a child.
On the other hand, the second half of the season is set around the character of Barriss Offee (Meredith Salenger), which was expanded through The Clone Wars series. Still, I feel that something that went overlooked was how she and Count Dooku are two sides of the same coin, both concerned as they feel the end is nigh, longing to change the pain, only for each to crumble from the weight of their concerns, giving in to the seduction of the Dark Side.
Each season has shown how the feeling of a disconnected child soldier starts to leave cracks in her hollow shell as she cries out in pain, which leads to her bombing the Jedi temple and forcing the blame onto Ahsoka, her best friend. It bears enough intention and force as a valued scholar who foretold of the incoming storm, but no one listened. It was a mirage, as in the end, still, no one cared to listen as the bodies hit the pavement and the lightsabers were plucked from the husks, now displayed as trophies of a time long past.
It’s the little things you notice upon further inspection that writers utilize, from the rain tattering out her cell while the cacophony of screams erupts during Order 66 as the Clones stand by confessing, “Be thankful you’re not a Jedi anymore,” signaling that the old ways are gone, the tight fist of the Empire has landed on the table of the galaxy, and it’s here to stay.
As the trilogy progresses, we are shown more of the Inquisitors and the propaganda that the Empire spews, oddly familiar to the salvation the Jedi once offered, now testaments of old lost, burned, silenced, further reflections of disillusionment riddled with hubris led to the downfall of the Jedi and the Republic working hand-in-hand. In the end, the crumbling defense was far better than the Empire that murdered them and took their place.
The entire galaxy knows it, and the writers and producers express the realization that darkness is here. Still, hope manifests through dropping subtle breadcrumbs that the audience can nibble on. The episode titles for the Barris trilogy are presented as “Devoted,” “Realization” and “The Way Out.” The utilization of progressive storytelling unravels, shedding the burden of being the cog in the machine. The execution is rich, tense, and hard to swallow, but we don’t want to turn away from the screen as we see the mask slowly descend and false preconceptions from the Inquisitors infect Offee.
We are shown her training, lightsaber littered among a table, placed like toys for a child to use. The first kill, where you silence a friend and the sequin blue pigmentation of your eyes changes to bloodshot yellow and red. Finally, the betrayal is about the thesis unraveling the “why.” It’s the moral reflection of looking in the mirror and saying it doesn’t matter, but is this right?
The ascension to light, along with the main focus, “the way out,” speaks volumes to the Sith and Jedi, both harboring elements of Light and Darkness, even if they don’t realize it, as they are necessary to exist for balance to reign, which, in a way, is an allegory of Anakin being the chosen one, and how the Jedi were at their height, while the Sith were withering. To achieve balance for the Galaxy, that had to be flipped to reciprocate the emergence of light and hope in the ever-growing rebellion.
Sadly, the cycle repeats: Jedi fall, children full of laughter and peace are silenced or drafted into war. Eras meld into each other, and while the logo may shift, flags may wave until ultimately predicated upon the truth that the cracks of the Empire and Jedi imploded due to the hypocrisy of the fact they spewed, forever linked on a hamster wheel destined never to stop.
In addition, one thing I feel that warrants praise is the ability animation possesses to bring back characters that were once left on the wastebasket on the cutting room floor, as the creative oasis runs dry, through the inclusion of actors who portrayed the role in live action, to fill the boots of a younger version without the hassle of de-aging CGI or recasting the role to help close the bookend and give clarity and direction to a franchise that often feels messy—lending to that value of authenticity to not only the experience but the confines of the audience.
Star Wars has always been symbolic and reflective of our world, but the best stories make us feel, confess, and align with the heroes we emulate and the villains we wish to despise but honestly long to see redeemed.
I hope that Lucasfilm and Disney+ don’t shelve the animated element of Star Wars, as these side chapters give hope to a legacy while peeling back and showcasing what drives a character into who they are while showing how they got from point A to point B during the films or first appearances down the line.
Nonetheless, the possibilities are limitless, and the potential is unknowable. “Both Star Wars: Tales” series are now available for streaming on Disney+
