Getting A Read On The Book Of Boba Fett

SWCA – Boba Fett booth Star Wars Celebration in Anaheim, April 2015. Phot by William Tung via Wikimedia Commons

I am of the age where my fandom of Star Wars is more complicated than perhaps others.

I am too young to have seen the original trilogy in the theater, although the network showings and later VHS tapes of them became a constant throughout the 80s and 90s of my youth. I was already an adult when the prequel trilogy hit the theaters, and in fact attended Episode I with a group that was I working with that summer in 1999. As for the latest trilogy, by far the best part wasn’t anything to do with the endlessly debated films themselves but that as a parent I got to experience what I didn’t have as a kid; my father taking me to a Star Wars movie.

All that fits because the Star Wars money train runs on the dual rails of nostalgia and new content. The vast Star Wars universe, once bought lock, stock, and bantha by Disney from George Lucas, was ripe for expansion. The series of books that had bridged the gap and done all that expanding prior to the House of Mouse taking over in a way the Empire could only dream off, was shuffled off into the regal sounding “Star Wars Legends” category that was lawyer wordy word for “we don’t want to waste time getting all the rights figured out so y’all go play over there while we do our own, fully owned intellectual property stuff over here. K. Thx.” Which for folks like me who liked Star Wars but really got into it through Timothy Zahn’s truly great Heir to the Empire trilogy of books that spawned the pre- and early internet renaissance that led up to the prequels coming out was a shame.

The expanded universe is important for a property like Star Wars for a lot of reasons, and not just branding and merchandizing. The galaxy we live in is currently in a mad dash for content, and all the stories, characters, and vast unexplored corners of Star Wars is fertile content farming. Disney wasted no time in laying out plans once they purchased Star Wars for a multi-tracked approach of films, series, animations, and other things. The first part, the tentpole films, had mixed results, and many previously announced film projects have been shelved, canceled, or sent back to the drawing board. On the other hand, animated shows like The Clone Wars were a massive success.

Which brings us to the live action series. The Mandalorian was a smash hit both commercially and critically, in no small part because it had a “back to basics” feel to storytelling in the Star Wars genre. Many compared it to a western, or old serial, or even Japanese samurai influence, and there is validity to the accusation as Lucas’ original inspiration for Star Wars included all of those. I wrote at the time my appreciation for the fact The Mandalorian actually let the story breath, and in the tradition of the original trilogy wasn’t afraid to shut up and let the scenery, score, and visuals tell the story. Something that was glaringly a problem in the prequels, where the rough exposition with – lets be generous and call it problematic – dialogue that never seemed to shut up, and couldn’t match the visuals and narrative sweep.

So, the stage was set to see what The Book of Boba Fett would make of its Mandalorian steppingstone as it took its turn in the Disney+ spotlight.

And it was good.

Let’s just pull up and park right here for a second. I know, you aren’t supposed to just say something is good. That’s not how this writing on the interwebs things works. It’s either the greatest thing ever, or it is an offense to God, man, Mandalorian, and George Lucas and must be stoned with digital characters until it stops moving. There are plenty of reviews out there on one of those ramparts or the other exchanging blaster fire back and forth.

But that isn’t how storytelling works, in real life, or on the chronically troubled Tatooine.

Even a thirty-minute sitcom has a A, B, and C story line in it. Sports teams have varsity and JV. We have levels of government. We have discount to high-end grocery stores. We have can Chef Boyardee to the impossible to get seat at Rao’s even though both have “ravioli” on the sign. Everything in life has a spectrum, a range, a vast middle between the polarities. If you are going to have a Star Wars expanded galaxy, you can’t just blow up a Death Star each outing, or have a galaxy-threatening Big Bad for each plot line. It is unsustainable, and leads you to writing really bad plots involving recycled cloned bad guys who are also grandfathers who are also…

You know what, never mind. Just having to figure out a way to type that out shows how ridiculous it was in the first place.

Sure, Bob Fett’s bacta tank rebirth and reimagining as a kinder, gentler, killer for hire isn’t terribly original. Yes, Boba Fett trying to live his best crime lord life now on a desert planet seems like comparatively small narrative beer. But it’s Boba Fett’s style of beer, and a beer he would be drinking. And it all fits. Having him go chasing yet another Skywalker adventure wouldn’t make sense because he wouldn’t care. He’s not interested in saving the galaxy. He doesn’t want to build up the New, Newer, or whatever version of the Newest Republic we are on here. And folks castigating the series for not being bigger are missing the point. This isn’t a story about the Star Wars galaxy, it is set IN the Star Wars galaxy.

And like most of us, these characters have plenty going on in their day-to-day without trying to solve every problem everywhere else. It’s honest storytelling to just admit that, yes indeedy, Boba Fett is more worried about Boba Fett than whatever is going on back on Coruscant, the erst-while political but (thankfully) rarely seen since the prequels center of the Star Wars universe. As if to emphasis that exact point, Boba Fett himself took his semi-captive majordomo’s recited resume of being trained on Coruscant in diplomacy not as impressive or useful factoid in the finale, but as a spark of inspiration to use the lackey’s classically trained self as a good, old fashioned distraction.

The Book of Boba Fett shouldn’t be bigger. Can’t be bigger. Not without losing itself and coming off either cringy or ridiculous. Boba Fett was a bit character in the original franchise, that grew in the fan’s own imagination organically. Having him spending hours on end running after a Mary Sue uber special Rey screaming “REEEYYYYY” like poor John Boyega was reduced to doing for three feature films would have not only been silly but probably killed the character. For my own part, by the ninth feature film I just wanted to stop arguing about it and get it over with and take it as it was cause the plot was so lost by that point might as well Slim Pickens it all the way in.

Who knew in Episode 7 Han was the lucky one; getting a quick, clean, definitive death at the hand of a loved one was a downright mercy compared to what was to come.

Anywho…The Book of Boba Fett.

The limited scope of The Book of Boba Fett is something I actually appreciated. It didn’t bother me in the least that the fifth and sixth episodes had the title character for a grand total of one minute saying one thing. Nor did it bother me that his plotline sabbatical was in the service of running an extended trailer and set up for The Mandalorian Season 3, backdoor pilot to the forthcoming Ahsoka Tano series, or getting CGI Luke Skywalker some much needed reps that show in the Jedi’s vastly improved appearance and performance.

Boba Fett is a supporting character. And there is nothing wrong with that. Star Wars, and other big franchises, get in trouble when they don’t treat their supporting characters with respect. And it is disrespectful to try and make them something they are not and kill the audience’s connection with them in the process.

There is the old line from those ridiculously unhelpful management training sessions that does apply here: don’t send your ducks to eagle school. Don’t send your bounty hunters to Jedi academy, or on the Kessel run, or to maneuver straight in down this shaft, level off in the trench, and skim the surface to the target that is only two meters across. Let Boba Fett be Boba Fett, let the galaxy keep turning around him as he carves out his little place in it, and don’t expect the entire franchise to hinge on each and every outing offered up.

The Book of Boba Fett was good. Sometimes really good. In a few spots, not very good at all. Sure, it was big on fan service. Yes, they used cameos, run-ins, and one offs to fill in the plot. But The Book of Boba Fett did its job as the bridge series between the bigger, flashier series to come, and did it well. We don’t need epic every time we venture to see our favorites in Star Wars. Give us singles and doubles and keep moving the runners along. That makes for a better game. Like the trap baseball has fallen into, all homeruns or strikeouts sounds good on paper, but makes for a tough watch. Besides, when you do get that big, towering home run, or that Death Star explosion, or Grogu’s first monologue about the galactic oppression of little, large eared folks, we will all appreciate it so much the more.

So praise the fact that Boba Fett was good. He isn’t meant to be epic. In the bounty hunter tradition, The Book of Boba Fett came to do the job paid to do, and then move on. As we should.