The Lucasfilm Problem
As a devoted Lucasfilm and Star Wars fan, let me begin by clarifying one thing: the problem with Lucasfilm isn’t Kathleen Kennedy. She remains a valuable asset to the franchise, and I have no intention of calling for her removal. However, that doesn’t mean she, or Lucasfilm as a whole, is without fault. A separate post about both the sequel trilogy and Lucasfilm’s continuous announcements and canceled projects will come soon.
Recent Lucasfilm projects, particularly the much-anticipated The Acolyte, highlight deeper systemic issues within the studio. On paper, The Acolyte was a compelling concept—a series set in the High Republic era, exploring the Sith’s rise to power, with the promise of showcasing the story from the villains’ perspective. In execution, however, it fell short. And these shortcomings point to larger, recurring problems with how Lucasfilm approaches its storytelling.
Inconsistent Performances and Direction
A show like The Acolyte, steeped in Star Wars lore, needed stellar acting and confident direction to bring its ambitious story to life. Unfortunately, it got neither. The performances ranged from adequate to outright lackluster, with some actors delivering half-hearted portrayals. One glaring example was Rebecca Henderson’s Vernestra Rwoh, a crucial character who was impossible to take seriously due to her overly dramatic yet unconvincing performance.
The fault doesn’t lie solely with the actors. The direction often seemed unsure of itself, resulting in wooden line deliveries and scenes that should have been cut or reshot. It’s hard to believe some of these performances made it past the editing room, let alone into a final product.
A Backward Script and Structure
The premise of The Acolyte was intriguing—Star Wars has always been about point-of-view, and exploring the Sith’s perspective seemed like a fresh take. Yet, by the end of the season, it became clear that this narrative choice had backfired.
The show presented the Jedi, the traditional heroes of the saga, as antagonists almost immediately. While questioning the Jedi’s methods is a valid narrative approach, portraying them as outright villains from the start alienated viewers. Creator Leslye Headland promised the story would focus on the villains’ perspective, but the execution undermined the Jedi’s complexity and reduced them to caricatures.
To test this theory, I created a fan edit of the series, restructuring the episodes into a single cohesive narrative. By removing the third episode’s flashback entirely and reordering scenes, the story’s pacing improved dramatically. The mystery around the characters’ motives remained intact, and the point-of-view dynamic felt more balanced. This exercise highlighted how poor structural decisions had hindered the series’ impact.
The Endless Need to Milk the Story
The biggest problem with The Acolyte, and Lucasfilm’s approach in general, is the relentless need to stretch stories unnecessarily, prioritizing the setup for future seasons over delivering a satisfying narrative arc.
The first season of The Acolyte ended with unresolved character arcs and unanswered questions. Key mysteries—such as the identity of The Stranger or the significance of Darth Plagueis—were left dangling. The finale lacked a compelling hook, failing to invest viewers in the story’s continuation.
This issue isn’t unique to The Acolyte. Look at Solo: A Star Wars Story. The film was enjoyable overall, with great world-building and entertaining performances. Yet its ending sacrificed narrative closure in favor of teasing a sequel that never materialized. The reveal of Maul, while exciting, came out of nowhere and felt disconnected from the main story. Instead of resolving Han and Qi’ra’s arc, the film bet on a follow-up that audiences never got, leaving the story feeling incomplete.
Contrast this with Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. It delivered a self-contained, emotionally resonant narrative that still managed to expand the universe. Its success directly led to the creation of Andor, a masterclass in storytelling that understands the importance of finality. With a clear two-season plan, Andor builds compelling characters, resolves their arcs within each season, and sets the stage for what’s to come—all without dragging its feet.
Lucasfilm’s Real Problem: Lack of Narrative Closure
Lucasfilm’s approach to storytelling often feels like they’re stalling for time, afraid to give audiences definitive answers or conclusions. The Acolyte could have followed the Andor model, delivering a tightly crafted first season that stood on its own while leaving room for expansion. Instead, it felt like a prologue to a story we may or may not see.
Similarly, Ahsoka suffered from the same issue. While the show had its highlights, it left too many storylines unresolved. Baylan Skoll’s enigmatic quest? Unexplained. The Nightsisters’ motivations? Barely addressed. These dangling threads didn’t build anticipation—they created frustration.
George Lucas understood the importance of structure and narrative clarity. Both A New Hope and The Phantom Menace are examples of how to start a trilogy effectively: they introduce the characters, establish their motivations, and provide a satisfying conclusion to their arcs while leaving room for sequels. Modern Lucasfilm projects often fail to follow this model, opting instead to drag out stories for the sake of content.
Moving Forward
Lucasfilm needs to prioritize storytelling over franchise expansion. The Star Wars universe is vast, and its fans are eager for new stories—but those stories need to have purpose and finality. Series like Andor and films like Rogue One prove that focusing on narrative first, rather than teasing endless spin-offs, creates memorable, impactful experiences.
If Lucasfilm wants to maintain Star Wars’ legacy, they must abandon their habit of milking every concept for all it’s worth. Give us complete stories with meaningful conclusions, and fans will gladly return for more. Otherwise, the galaxy far, far away risks becoming a franchise lost in its own shadows.