The Mandalorian in review: Screenwriting doesn't get any worse

Western in a galaxy far, far away. That sounds good. The latest entry in the "Star Wars" universe is called "The Mandalorian" and launched tonight on the Disney streaming service Disney+.

After 38 minutes of the first episode, it's clear that author Jon Favreau has failed. The man who is also an executive producer on the series has broken the first big rule of screenwriting: "Show. Don't Tell".

A cowboy in the galaxy

The first episode starts strongly. In a bar - there are an extraordinary number of bars or places where people sit in the first episode - a blue man is harassed by a tentacle-faced man and a man who doesn't speak English. The science fiction-esque iris door opens. In the light streaming in from outside stands a man in a helmet: The Mandalorian.

Without a word, he walks past the blue man, the foreign speaker and the tentacled man and stands at the bar. The foreign speaker follows. The tentacled one too. They are looking for a fight. The Mandalorian ignores them. Apparently. As soon as a beer mug is placed on the bar, the Mandalorian strikes. A brief bar fight, a short firefight, the Mandalorian is still standing, the other two are not. The blue one seems to be saved.

The episode has been running for three minutes and is going strong. The Mandalorian feels like Clint Eastwood in his heyday as a Western hero. He's like Dredd - the 2012 version played by Karl Urban. Taciturn, uncompromising, invincible.

After three minutes and thirteen seconds, the Mandalorian speaks. For the first time. He addresses the words to the blue one. "I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold."

His hand goes to the holster. The blue one knows exactly what's in store for him. As viewers, we do too: the blue one is the Mandalorian's mission - the bounty hunter.

This is good screenwriting. That's how an author easily creates a character that will have a lasting impact on the audience. Why is Clint Eastwood so iconic in his role as the Man With No Name and #33 on the list of the 100 Greatest Movie Characters? It's the mystery that surrounds him. His silence is his strength. Viewers want to know more, but the man remains silent The taciturn loner is so fascinating that a good fifth of the 100 characters on the list above fall into this cliché.

And it goes downhill

But that's where the strong start ends, because Jon Favreau completely flubs the series afterwards. Of course, the production is beyond reproach. A lot of money went into it. Disney spent $100 million on the production of eight episodes. The sets look good, the costumes are somewhat broken, colourful and worn, as is typical of Star Wars. The actors do their best and it shows. The soundtrack is wonderfully westernised and harmonious. The pacing is sometimes totally broken, especially during the riding training.

Except for Jon Favreau. Jon Favreau makes a mistake.

After a strong start to the series, the Mandalorian doesn't stop talking, even developing a sense of slapstick humour. This is despite the fact that the episode could easily have been rewritten so that the titular character didn't have to say a word. A silent main character works well. In the 2012 film "Dredd", the world reacts to the stoic title character, who never shows any emotion and is unstoppable.

There's a rule in the film: "Show. Don't tell"; show, don't tell. This means that film - including TV series - is perceived as a visual medium. Bad screenwriting relies on dialogue, on characters telling the audience things. Good screenwriting incorporates the set, the camera angles, the lengths of scenes after the cut. Jon Favreau probably thinks that a film can only be good if every little bit is narrated and explained.

But the Mandalorian comments on everything. A mount throws him off? He has a witty line up his sleeve. A blacksmith makes him a new piece for his armour? He tells where he's from. Why? Favreau takes the cake in terms of bad screenwriting when the big firefight takes place towards the end of the episode. There are lots of snipers and brave people who want to finish off the Mandalorian and a robot.

The shooting starts. The Mandalorian and the droid are hidden behind a pillar, under fire from a machine gun. The two of them can't do anything with their puny blasters. Then the Mandalorian says: "There are too many."

What if Favreau had made one machine gun into several? Just 30 more extras shooting at our hero? The scene 30 seconds longer? Viewers are not stupid. When a hero is shot at for 30 seconds, everyone realises that he's having problems that can only be solved by extraordinary heroic work.

The Mandalorian could have remained silent. The image would have spoken for him. The world reacting to the stoic hero takes on the function of the words that would be said in a cheap production. Because there, the budget and the calibre of the authors are lacking. With "Star Wars", on the other hand, one minute of the first episode costs 328,947 dollars. That's 5482.46 dollars per second. There's more in it.

A comparison with the 2012 feature film Dredd, which features a very similar scene.

For 3 minutes 43 seconds, eight words are spoken, only four of them by Dredd (Karl Urban). And these are generic. The rest is told in sound and vision. The fleeing inhabitants of the Peach Trees megablock, the incessant fire, the glow in Ma-Ma's (Lena Headey) eyes, the extreme close-up on Judge Anderson's (Olivia Thirlby) face, the ammunition raining to the ground. This is screenwriting. No frame is where it is by accident. The silence and the world's reaction to Dredd define the character. Dredd himself doesn't have to speak. That's good screenwriting. "Dredd" has a budget of 45 million US dollars. One minute cost 473,684 dollars, one second 7894 dollars.

I understand why Jon Favreau, and by extension mega-corporation and Star Wars owner Disney, didn't dare do anything and let the Mandalorian become a chatterbox. After all, there could be someone out there somewhere, at some point, who might not understand what's going on on screen. A character has to retell the plot.

Disney is playing it safe.

The company doesn't want to confuse anyone, even the last grandma who is juggling chainsaws while doing the laundry should be able to see everything. The art of the film is lost, but the lowest common denominator, which seems to be "has a pulse", comes out of it.

Shame.