"The Acolyte" Has Something To Say, But Are We Ready To Hear It?

The new 'Star Wars' series has hit a nerve, good and bad, with audiences as it takes a critical look at the franchise's most famous order of knights...

There’s a lot of noise around The Acolyte.

Before the new live-action Star Wars even released an episode, it was hit with a string of one-star reviews across multiple online platforms. Then, when the series actually began airing, the stars and vocal fans of the show were hit with a tirade of death threats and racist/sexist/homophobic/etc. comments. Even Wookieepedia, the unofficial wiki that keeps track of the franchise’s lore without passing judgement on its quality, has become a target.

This is, sadly, nothing new for Star Wars. The franchise has been a flashpoint in the ongoing culture wars since it returned to the mainstream with The Force Awakens in 2015. An entire ecosystem of YouTube channels, podcasts, and social media accounts has sprung up to stoke the flames and capitalize on the outrage. And it shows no sign of slowing down, even as we approach the 10-year mark since the first “controversy” sprung up when John Boyega, a black man, was the first face seen in the teaser for The Force Awakens.

This is not to say that someone can’t have a good faith, negative reaction to The Acolyte or any other Star Wars project. Being a fan doesn’t mean you have to unquestioningly love everything. Reasonable people can disagree.

Back in March, I moderated a panel at Toronto ComiCon called “Celebrating Star Wars”, during which one of the panelists spoke passionately about his love for The Last Jedi. After he finished, two other panelists revealed they didn’t care for the movie and began jokingly asking the first panelist about some of the things they didn’t like in the movie. No one called each other a name, questioned the other’s fandom, or hurled any other sort of insult. It was how things are supposed to be: a fun discussion between enthusiastic people.

It’s for this reason that I don’t use the word “fan” to describe those engaging in the behaviour described in the first two paragraphs. And I’m not the only one. Following the premiere of Obi-Wan Kenobi in 2022, Obi-Wan himself Ewan McGregor released a video where he addressed the racist comments his co-star Moses Ingram had received from so-called “fans”.

“If you’re sending her bullying messages,” McGregor said, “you’re no Star Wars fan in my mind.”

As Yoda once told Luke, “To Obi-Wan, you listen.”

It’s a shame that any discussion of The Acolyte, or most other Star Wars shows these days, has to begin like this. Maybe someday we’ll get to the place where we can just talk about our opinions without things devolving into bullying and bigotry. For now, those of us who want to actually talk about the show in good faith, whether you’re enjoying it or not, will just have to do our best to shut out the noise and do what fans do: discuss and dissect the series in minute details.

Is the series perfect? No. But it has something interesting to say. And that’s what we’re going to focus on from here on out.

From A Certain Point Of View

For me, the best and most interesting episode so far has been the flashback third episode, “Destiny.” The episode is framed almost entirely from Osha’s point of view as a child, meaning the context of certain scenes is missing or only half-clear. This leaves us with a skewed perception of what happened, with more questions than answers (what were the Jedi doing there? What were the witches up to? Did Mae really start the fire?).

I understand how this might be frustrating to some, but I found it to be an effective way of heightening the drama. We’d seen in the previous two episodes the closeness of Osha and Sol in the future/present and this episode gives us some background to that. Not only did he save her from the fire, but he also was the first person to really listen to her. And yet, clearly, we don’t know the full story and whatever is missing will likely upend how we view the characters and the characters view each other. We’re now waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Throughout “Destiny”, Osha expresses her doubt about her role in the witches’ coven she was raised in, only to have Mother Aniseya, Mother Koril, Mae, and everyone else in her life shut her down. Only Sol really sees and listens to Osha. And he offers her what she wants, something it seems that no one has ever done before. It’s a solid foundation for their bond.

Sol has been compared to Qui-Gon Jinn in the sense that both seem to be the best examples in their respective eras of Jedi who are actually living up to their ideals. Sol treats Osha with kindness as a child and is the only one who doesn’t rush to judgement when she is accused of murder as an adult. He wants to actually unravel the mystery and find the truth, not just what is politically convenient.

But that may not be the whole story. The point of telling that story from Osha’s perspective, especially so early in the season, is that it allows the filmmakers to let the audience in on key details of her backstory, while still leaving room for reveals down the line. And for all Sol’s warmth and understanding towards Osha, it’s unlikely that his hands are clean.

When Jecki asks why he keeps old pictures of Osha, Sol replies, “Our memories are lessons. If we don’t meditate on the past…”

“We’re doomed to repeat it,” Jecki finishes.

Actor Lee Jung Jae plays Sol with a keen sense of devotion and sadness, his performance dripping with regret. This could all just stem from his disappointment that he was unable to complete Osha’s training. But given all that we know about the tragic events on Brendok, it’s not unreasonable to wonder if there is something more. Is Sol simply meditating on how not to lose a padawan, or could there be something more?

Osha still believes in the Jedi, she tells her fellow inmates as much when they want her to participate in their jailbreak. Osha has faith that, despite their flaws, the Jedi will do the right thing in the end. She is proven right, because of Sol. Her bond with her former master, the one she believes rescued her, remains strong.

But what would happen if that were to break? Is there something that happened that night on Brendok that could shake Osha’s faith in her master? Maybe the sadness inherent in Sol stems from what he did (or didn’t do) that night. And where would it leave Osha if/when that truth were to come out?

This is, of course, pure speculation. But in the world of The Acolyte, none are truly free from suspicion.

The Legacy of the Jedi is Failure

One aspect of the series that has proven controversial is its depiction of the Jedi, with some even suggesting that the Jedi are being portrayed as the villains of the story. It is certainly true that this series has portrayed the Jedi in a less flattering light than usual, however, it is important to consider the context.

While we are still over a century away from Order 66, the ultimate downfall of the Jedi and the path to that defeat is long. The evil brilliance of what Darth Sidious accomplishes at the end of the prequel trilogy is that he was patient. He allowed his enemies to defeat themselves. They grew complacent, and so they missed what was really happening.

Even Luke Skywalker agrees. In The Last Jedi, he tells Rey, “The legacy of the Jedi is failure. Hypocrisy, hubris.” He notes that the Jedi were so focused on maintaining their own power, they missed a far more malevolent one rising right under their noses, saying, “At the height of their power they allowed Darth Sidious to rise, create the Empire, and wipe them out.”

The story of The Acolyte is one of an Order that’s losing its way, whose choices and decisions create ripples that will one day become the tsunami that eliminates them. Sidious didn’t destroy the Jedi with a sky full of Star Destroyers or an army of red lightsaber wielders. He took an already weakened Order and dealt them the final blow.

Perhaps the biggest problem with the Jedi of The Acolyte is that they are more focused on how they are perceived as what they do. Their actions are driven by fear of what might happen should their “political enemies” learn of their failings rather than whether they are doing the right thing. And while they would never say it, it’s clear that many of their choices are driven by a desire to maintain their position of power in the republic.

Vernestra Rwoh has come to personify this (which is something of a tragedy if you’re familiar with her backstory from the High Republic books). She appears to be driven less by wanting to bring those responsible for the death of her fellow Jedi to justice, and more by insulating the Jedi from criticism.

She wants Osha arrested based entirely on the testimony of one witness to Master Indara’s murder. There is no pausing to consider alternate suspects, nor any thought given to hearing Osha’s side of the story. Later, She chooses not to seek guidance or wisdom from the Jedi High Council, hiding Mae’s actions from them so they’re not forced to report the situation to the Senate.

The most important thing to Vernestra is having an answer to her questions, whether or not it’s the right question is almost immaterial. The political enemies of the Jedi must not know the Jedi are facing a crisis. They cannot be given any ammunition they could use to take some of the Jedi’s political power from them.

As Darth Sidious once said, “All who gain power are afraid to lose it.” And while it feels wrong to agree with the saga’s ultimate bad guy, the thing about Star Wars villains is they have a penchant for telling the truth. Vader tells Luke the truth about his parentage, Dooku tells Obi-Wan the truth about Sidious controlling the Senate, and Sidious is telling Anakin (and the audience) the truth about human nature in this scene from Revenge of the Sith.

It can be hard to hear for the audience. The Jedi were first described to us as “the guardians of peace and justice in the old republic.” It’s a lofty ideal to be sure, and one that many would struggle to truly live up to. But it appears as though the Jedi of The Acolyte aren’t even trying. They’ve lost their way, becoming so distracted by the political power plays of the moment that they’ve forgotten their true mission.

Vernestra is the face of this failing, but she is far from the only one. Yord obviously doesn’t trust Osha and looks down on her, despite their time training together. Ki-Adi-Mundi remains dismissive of anything that doesn’t fit within his worldview. And Sol is so worried that Holden will choose to kill Mae rather than question her (effectively ending their investigation) that he pleads to lead the mission instead. And there is clearly more to the story on Brendok.

That both Kelnacca and Torbin went off the grid following the conflict on Brendok suggests that they view their actions there as being so bad they couldn’t continue as Jedi in the traditional sense. Torbin even drinks the poison Mae brings him, telling her before he does, “Forgive me. We thought we were doing the right thing.”

The question, of course, is what could the Jedi have done that Torbin would see drinking poison as his only path to absolution? Could the defenders of the light have chosen to destroy the coven out of fear for what might happen if they allow others to use the Force in ways they deem “unnatural”? We don’t know for sure, but the pile of witch corpses seen in the final moments of episode three, combined with Torbin’s confession in episode two, paints a pretty damning picture.

Power

I mentioned earlier that Vernestra’s role in this story could be seen as tragic for those who know her past. It is, to be certain, a different sort of tragedy than the one that played out on Brendok. It isn’t one event of devastation, but rather her life winding up in such a different place than where it seemed to be heading.

Quick history lesson: Vernestra was the padawan of Stellan Gios, who at the time was seen as one of the shining beacons of hope of the Jedi Order. She passed her trials and was knighted at sixteen, much earlier than most padawans (for context, Obi-Wan was 25 when he was knighted). In other words, Vernestra was meant to follow in Stellan’s footsteps and lead the Jedi Order into the future.

In a sense, this came to pass. She clearly holds some sort of high-ranking position in the Jedi, leading the investigation into Indara’s murder. But she’s no longer the bright-eyed young Jedi, eager to live by the ideals of what it means to truly be a Jedi. Instead, she’s a defender of the status quo.

This is, no doubt, a reflection of her experiences. The Nihil crisis, which began shortly after her knighting, has to have had a major impact on how she views the galaxy. And how the Jedi resolved this conflict (a story currently playing out in Phase III of the High Republic books) surely left her with the feeling that the galaxy needs the Jedi. If the Jedi are the defenders of the Light, then surely protecting their position of influence is worth doing whatever is necessary to maintain.

Luke Skywalker, however, would disagree. “To say that if the Jedi die, the light dies, is vanity,” he tells Rey decades later. The Jedi, Luke is saying, don’t own the Force or the concept of the Light side. And if they begin to believe they do, then they have lost their way.

In episode three of The Acolyte, Mother Aniseya breaks up an argument between Mae and Osha over the Jedi by telling them, “This isn’t about good or bad. This is about power and who is allowed to use it.” This is the central theme of the series.

There is a strong suggestion in the episode, that the witches believe the Jedi want to own the Force (or the Thread, in their view). They ascribe to the Jedi a belief that only they (the Jedi) can be trusted and allowed to use the Force. Anyone else who does so must be watched, at the very least, and stopped—by whatever means necessary—if they cross the Jedi’s arbitrary line.

Peace and Purpose

I’ve referenced The Last Jedi several times, and I can’t help but look at how both it and The Acolyte were so divisive. (To be clear, I am still only talking about good faith interpretation of the stories).

Both stories challenged our perception of the Jedi and evoked powerful responses from the audience by doing so. The Last Jedi had our hero, who we saw live the Jedi way in his youth, fail to live up to ideals later in life, and call out the Order for its failings. The Acolyte is showing us those failings on a visceral level.

It’s difficult to have our beliefs shaken and challenged, whether that’s in the real world or those based in a galaxy far, far away. But growth requires us to face the reality that sometimes the people and institutions we believe in will fail us. Be it the Jedi Order or something else. The challenge is in knowing what to do with it. Do we tear things down and try again, or do we recognize the potential in the ideas and seek to rebuild the trust that was broken?

In The Last Jedi, Luke believes that the only hope for the galaxy is for the Jedi to die out and take their hubris and their vanity with them. Rey, argues against this notion, believing that whatever flaws the Jedi may have had as people, their ideal is worth preserving.

“That old legend of Luke Skywalker that you hate so much,” she tells Luke in a deleted scene, “I believed in it.”

The actual fall of the Jedi has been well documented through the prequel trilogy and The Clone Wars. It’s easy to look back on those final years and see how Sidious was manipulating them, especially amidst the chaos of war. It’s harder to look at them in peacetime and see their failings long before Sidious was even born. It wasn’t a dark lord of the Sith manipulating them, just a bunch of well-meaning people losing sight of their sacred mission, focusing on the wrong things.

The Acolyte is challenging its viewers to see the Jedi as they were, not as the epic heroes of legend we often think of them as. Because if we are to build a better world, we need to see things as they are in addition to how we wish they would be. Luke and Rey taught each other these lessons in The Last Jedi and one day we will hopefully see the payoff of that lesson when Rey builds her new Jedi Order (coming to cinemas in December 2027?)

But for now, we’re left to stew in the failings of the Jedi as they play out on screen centuries earlier in The Acolyte. Our notions about our heroes are being challenged, but hopefully, we’ll be better off for it.

Always in motion is the future, but the past has many lessons on how we can shape it.