The Mandalorian

Growing up my Dad was obsessed with Star Wars.  When you walked into his office/man cave it represented nothing from his career as a doctor.  Rather, it was an homage to PC games, comic books and Star Wars.  I think the only time my Dad ever yelled at me was when I didn’t understand what was going on during a Star Wars film.  I drilled him with questions before he aggressively said to me “Just watch the movie you nosy son of a bitch.”  It was my 30th birthday.  My girlfriend had just broken up with me.  My cat had just died and my nipples were extremely chaffed from a Kyrie Irving (aged horribly) jersey I should have never worn without an undershirt.  OK fine, none of that happened besides the nipple issue, but he totally sassed me so I knew whatever we were watching was important to him.  So, I tolerated Jar Jar Binks and the riddle speaking, green racoon (I’m sorry), but I built resentment towards Star Wars.  

I blame this childhood experience for my always being resistant towards Star Wars .  My Dad even had this Star Wars mug that he loved.  As a kid I once took a piss in it.  I always thought it resentment based, but I learned through therapy that I was just trying to mark my territory as a young boy misidentifying as a dog.

Many years later for whatever reason I admitted to my Dad that I pissed in his favorite mug.  He took it surprisingly well, but at that point I had already disappointed him so many times that it oddly fit in with my “disappointment inventory.”

As the years went on and the saga of Star Wars continued, I stubbornly stayed in my own lane.  I sold myself that I was too behind for it to be worth starting.  Then the Mandalorian dropped.

I watched the first episode of the Mandalorian with my wife who hated it.  She’s more of a Monsters Inc kinda gal.  It hurt, but it wasn’t the first time she had hurt me.  She disliked District 9 too.  I know!  So strange she didn’t enjoy watching a man’s life fall apart as he slowly turns into an alien.  I was thrilled with both, though.  I’m not weird.

Many of the episodes in The Mandalorian could honestly be stand alone short movies as he embarks on bounty hunting jobs, making money, kicking ass or being a man of his word and completing a necessary, insane detour.  Essentially, he’s the opposite of me, but please don’t stop reading.  I need you.  

After the first episode, I didn’t watch the Mandalorian for awhile, but my Dad and I were hanging during a lazy Sunday and I figured what better activity than to watch the pilot.  After it was over, I felt a sort of validating feeling you might feel if you were DJ’ing a playlist at a party and everyone was really feeling it.  I had shown my Dad something awesome and I knew it.  Then he said, “That sucked.  It’s an injustice to the original stuff.”

Oh fuck you and fuck the original stuff.  The Mandalorian season 1 is one of the best seasons of television I’ve ever seen.  If you’ve ever enjoyed anything from the Marvel world I guarantee you’ll enjoy The Mandalorian and you don’t need to know shit about Star Wars.

So, listen to me and not my Dad – watch the Mandalorian. You won’t regret it. Please, just do it for me and rest in peace pops. You were wrong about the Mandalorian, but shit you were a real one.

Seth Borkowski is a New York-based writer who enjoys writing about dating, self-improvement, sports and the challenges of growing older as a millennial. You can read more of his work at

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