So that was The Acolyte then, one of the boldest swings in small screen Star Wars and one that has been predictably divisive among fans. No surprise there, of course — every Star Wars show has been hugely divisive. A lot of those criticisms can be safely dismissed. Any complaint featuring the words “woke”, “diversity” or “agenda” can comfortably be thrown in the trash compactor, which admittedly means half of Star Wars YouTube gets squashed flat and ejected into space before the jump to lightspeed. Possibly no bad thing.
There are some legitimate issues, though. Mostly around pacing and storytelling. We’ll come to those later.
There is also a lot to love. The lightsaber action was kept contained to just two episodes, but when it came it was some of the most beautiful fight choreography in Star Wars, especially the Wuxia-influenced wire-work in episode eight. A specific drive to deepen Star Wars lore was well handled, and new revelations and understanding of the Force felt far less hamfisted than the blunt dyads, sudden-onset Force healing, rootless over-powering and mysterious Sith planets we got in Rise of Skywalker. We got to see a Kyber crystal bleed with dark side energy! Force witchcraft! Mind control! There were some fantastic performances too.
While Amandla Stenberg was doing solid work fronting the whole thing as twins (sort of) Osha and Mae, characters she managed to keep admirably distinct, the show was stolen from under her by Manny Jacinto’s Qimir and Lee Jung-jae’s Sol — both performances swimming in layers, duplicity, soul and charisma. In truth, it’s not just Stenberg playing multiple versions of the same person; both of her mentors, in a sense, do this too. I would say that the glowing sunbeam of Jedi delight that was Jecki Kon, played with palpable effervescence by Dafne Keen, should be protected at all costs … if she hadn’t been so brutally cut down in episode five.
The show’s other great success was in cementing the High Republic era in live action so effectively. Previously this was a strand of the larger story, set hundreds of years before the events of The Phantom Menace, seen only in spin-off media (what we used to call the Expanded Universe back in the olden days), in novels, comic books and games. Show runner Leslye Headland gives us a different flavour of Jedi to those we’ve seen before — more bureaucratic and uptight, more sure of themselves. The earlier era also means chunkier lightsabers and marginally starker technology. It works. It feels familiarly Star Warsy, and different from what we’ve seen before. That’s important.
In truth, I enjoyed all eight episodes of the show. It’s hard, however, to reconcile that with a series that has so many clear flaws in its base stock.
There are far too many rushed narrative decisions that don’t quite make sense in the cold light of day. Mae’s sudden change of heart in episode five and willingness to turn herself in feels abrupt and underdeveloped. Plot holes gape so wide that even Jar Jar Binks would have no problem bullseyeing them in his T16 back home: The unexplained fate of Mother Koril or the weird sentient Beaver, Bazil’s inexplicable sabotage of Sol’s ship in the finale. The whole character of Bazil is an absolute mess: he appears to be a strange agent of chaos with no actual motivations or traits other than sniffling.
Meanwhile, other characters, Jecki for example, or Charlie Barnet’s stick-in-the-mud NQJ (newly qualified Jedi) Yord Fandar are developed beautifully only to be thrown away. It’s hard to care about Vernestra Rwoh’s decision to hide the truth from the Senate tribunal when we’ve barely met her on screen.
The whole series feels like it will only work if it gets a second season, which is by no means guaranteed. This wasn’t Loki, ending its first run with a massive cliffhanger and a promise it will return. It just felt under-done. The finale leaves us with tantalising glimpses of (probably?) Darth Plagueis (the future master of Emperor Palpatine and the subject of the “The Tragedy” recounted to Anakin in Revenge of the Sith) and a glimpse of Yoda … but without a guarantee they could be explored these camoes felt gimmicky and nonsubstantive. The second half of the season is full of setups for future stories rather than satisfying conclusions.
The Acolyte was pitched on two intriguing premises: a murder mystery and “a show from the perspective of the Sith.” Yet, as the dust settles on the finale, it’s hard to argue that either of these promises was fully realised. The murder mystery aspect fizzles out early, replaced by a more complex web of political intrigue and historical cover-ups. And while we do get glimpses into the Sith perspective through Qimir (and the show is at its best in these moments), it’s hardly the deep dive into dark side philosophy we might have expected.
This leaves us with a lingering question: what was The Acolyte actually about? Was it an exploration of Jedi hubris? A tale of sisterhood and betrayal? An origin story for the Sith’s return? In trying to be all these things, it sometimes struggles to be any of them definitively.
And yet despite these narrative shortcomings, it remained engaging throughout its eight-episode run. It’s beautifully made, well-performed, and suitably beguiling. The fight sequences, particularly the parallel duels between Osha and Mae, and Sol and Qimir, showcasing impressive martial arts and Force abilities not yet seen on screen, were especially fulfilling.
It’s also annoyed a lot of the right people, which is always admirable. A healthy disrespect for the obscurities of canon (the complete rewrite of conehead Jedi master Ki-Adi-Mundi’s entire backstory for example) is actually rather fun. The diversity of the cast is refreshing and long overdue in the galaxy far, far away. I loved watching Lee Jung-jae and Manny Jacinto doing a martial arts set piece in a Star Wars show. I loved that sometimes the only white actor on screen was actually green or covered in Wookiee fur.
The Acolyte is a bold experiment in Star Wars storytelling. It doesn’t always stick the landing, but its ambition is admirable. It pushes boundaries, challenges preconceptions, and dares to imagine a different kind of Star Wars — one that questions the Jedi’s practices and explores the rise of the Sith from a new perspective. Yes, it stumbles, but in doing so, it might just be paving the way for even more daring adventures in this ever-expanding universe. It wasn’t as edge-of-the-seat as Andor, but it was galaxies ahead of The Book of Boba Fett.
Is The Acolyte perfect? Far from it. But it’s exactly the kind of shake-up that Star Wars needs right now – a fresh perspective that’s not afraid to ruffle a few feathers. It gives us a bigger canvas for storytelling. And in the grand tapestry of Star Wars, that might just be its greatest achievement.
Marc Burrows is on tour with The Magic of Terry Pratchett – for a full list of shows and to buy tickets go here.
