THIS MOVIE IS VERY, VERY LOUD.
The Mandalorian and Grogu
The film opens Friday, May 22, 2026, throughout the known universe, only in movie theaters, via Disney. Visit Fandango for locations and showtimes.
Warmly embracing its b-movie origins, director Jon Favreau fashions a continuation of the streaming series that he created with Dave Filoni, making for a rousing Saturday morning adventure, a welcome installment in the Star Wars saga that is not pretentious in the least.
The film, written by Favreau, Filoni, and Noah Kloor, who wrote episodes of both The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, begins with a brief explanation of its setting in the years after Star Wars: Revenge of the Jedi (1983). The Mandalorian, portrayed by Pedro Pascal, Brendan Wayne, and Lateef Crowder under a masked helmet -- the three actors and/or stunt players are listed first in the opening credits -- continues his collaboration with Grogu (fka Baby Yoda), cleaning up the remnant of the Galactic Empire as independent contractors for the New Republic.
After a VERY, VERY LOUD opening in which the film's dark visual aesthetic is established by director of photography David Klein (also a veteran of The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett) -- so dark that one is often tempted to shine a flashlight on screen to illuminate the action -- The Mandalorian and Grogu report in to Ward (Sigourney Weaver, on break from the Avatar movies), a local leader of the New Republic, who pays them for their work with a snazzy new retro spaceship and offers them a new mission: Rescue Rotta the Hut, the only son of Jabba the Hut.
Jabba's twin cousins have spun a story to the New Republic, asking for their help in recovering Rotta in exchange for valuable information. The Mandalorian accepts the mission, and what he discovers forms the balance of the movie.
Voiced by Jeremy Allen White, channeling a chain-smoking Bruce Springsteen through a heavy filter, Rotta becomes the most beguiling character in the story, which is heavy on action and light on deep characterizations. After all, devoted viewers of the series have spent 24 episodes getting to know the man behind the helmet, and watched Grogu develop from a helpless infant -- with The Force -- into a precocious young child -- with The Force.
Favreau and company bring in ringers whose mere presence holds the promise of something more; surely, Sigourney Weaver will not always be stuck behind a desk or stalking around a military base, glaring at her minions and shaking her head with disappointment at The Mandolarian's failure of imagination.
And when Martin Scorsese's unmistakable voice is heard, voicing a food-truck cook with multiple arms, calling to mind Jon Favreau's own Chef (2014), one can't help but hope that Marty will join the mission in an active role.
Alas, the mission is left without a cook as it presses onward. For what it is, though, the movie cooks on its own at a pleasant pace. The fare is strictly meat-and-potatoes, with hardly any vegetables (deep contemplation) to supply any food for thought, and barely any spices in form of surprises, except to bring back characters to Favreau and Filoni's previous Star Wars series, which will likely please the faithful.
Ludwig Göransson recycles the music he composed for the series in his score, which is fine for its intent and purpose. Indeed, the movie as a whole reflects a workmanlike intent and purpose: Star Wars, in these creators' ambitions, is not meant to be anything more than a b-movie with an abundance of zippy fun and forgettable action.