Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu | review by Stephen Theaker

When I came out of The Mandalorian and Grogu, I said to Mrs Theaker that it was the perfect film for little boys – which is not to say little girls won't enjoy it too. And according to the Hollywood Reporter this was exactly what the exit polling showed – boys under 13 rated it more highly than anyone else. I said that in part for the obvious reasons – the blasters, monsters, spaceships, etc – but also because it's a film about a little boy (albeit a little boy in his fifties) travelling with a man he admires, and learning about honour, duty, ethics and (when needed) fighting.

Some have suggested that the film will baffle those who haven't seen the tv show and its spin-offs (The Book of Boba Fett and Ahsoka) but I think that's an unfounded fear. The only confusion might come from people thinking the Mandalorian is Boba Fett, since they wear very similar armour. He's not, he's a new character, Din Djarin. The film tells you all you need to know – a bounty hunter is hunting bad guys – and in fact it would work very well as a direct sequel to Return of the Jedi.

This film is set shortly after Jedi. The New Republic is a scrappy little upstart, struggling to prevent a resurgence of the Empire. The Mandalorian (voiced and at times played by Pedro Pascal) has been tasked with capturing (ideally) or killing (more likely) former Empire officers who are now setting themselves up as local warlords. It's work that he enjoys and he is good at it, and his orders come directly from Sigourney Weaver (playing a new character, Colonel Ward of the New Republic).

The first part of the film shows how this typically goes: the Mandalorian tracks down his target, then starts killing people and blowing things up until the target is dead. This time it involves running down a hill in a scout trooper and taking on three AT-ATs at once. It's a thrill-a-minute stuff, closer to George Lucas's dream of resurrecting the spirit of the old film serials than Star Wars (the original one) itself.

The rest of the film sees the duo take on a second mission. This one doesn't go quite so smoothly, and isn't as ethically clear-cut. To learn the identity and location of an Imperial bigwig, the New Republic has agreed to help two Hutts, huge slug-like crime lords, to find and rescue Rotta (Jeremy Allen White), their nephew, and the son of Jabba the Hutt. But what if Rotta doesn't want to be found by them – is the intel so important that his feelings don't matter?

One complaint has been that the film is essentially the same as the tv show, which seems unfair, since the show was so cinematic, each episode reportedly having a budget big enough to pay for an entire season of Doctor Who. Like the tv show, The Mandalorian and Grogu is full of spectacle, weird landscapes and alien creatures, and balances that with lots of character moments, not least during a memorable sequence when the Mandalorian is incapacitated and the camera comes down to Grogu's level.

If there's any criticism to be made, it's perhaps that there isn't much progression in the stories of our main duo – we don't learn any more about their origins. Also, it might have been nice to see more of their old allies, like Cara Dune (Gina Carano) and Migs Mayfeld (Bill Burr) – season three was also poorer for their absence. But other old friends make little cameos, and I can't really complain about a Mandalorian and Grogu film focusing on the Mandalorian and Grogu.

An enthusiastic four stars from me. To put it in movie-poster terms, it's a rip-roaring outer-space adventure, fun for all the family. Stephen Theaker ****

The Wish List by Eoin Colfer (Penguin) | review by Douglas J. Ogurek

Battle for a soul: reluctant perpetrator reunited with victim in touching young adult novel that examines resentment, vengeance, friendship, and the relationship between young and old.

A teen fantasy tale bursting with creativity, The Wish List introduces a world in which Satan commands his number two, Beelzebub – or “Bub” as the dark lord calls him – to capture the soul of 14-year-old Meg Finn after she dies following a botched robbery. Meg’s mother is dead, and the devil is particularly interested in Meg because of something awful she did to her ne’er-do-well stepfather. 

In this domain, dead people have auras: blue if they’re good and red if they’re bad. Meg’s happens to be purple. 

After the explosion, Meg’s unsavoury co-conspirator Belch gets merged with his pit bull and goes straight to hell. Meg, however, gets another chance on Earth, where she decides to help Lowrie McCall (the pensioner they tried to rob) fulfil four long-held wishes ranging from reclaiming lost opportunities to seeking vengeance on those who’ve wronged him. 

Beelzebub enlists the now-dead 16-year-old Belch to stop Meg from helping Lowrie (and therefore doing good). A computer whizz named Myishi uses an often-annoying holographic demon to accompany and advise Belch. If Beelzebub and Belch stop Meg from doing good, she goes to hell; if they don’t, they’re going to be in hot water. 

While the structure of the novel is familiar, the creativity of the setting and the coming together of two flawed and initially antagonistic protagonists earn the reader’s buy-in. Eoin Colfer’s version of hell and its denizens is entertaining. Satan and Beelzebub nonchalantly dole out punishments. The latter even has a direct line to Saint Peter, from whom he attempts to extract information about Meg. Interestingly, whereas the bad guys are pursuing Meg, the good guys are mostly detached and letting her do her own thing.

Additionally, the omniscient point of view in which the author flips between characters’ thoughts in the same scene works. Meg’s ability to get into Lowrie’s head to see his past or invite him into hers paves the way for extended backstory scenes that help the protagonists sympathise with one another because they’ve both been through some difficult times. 

The Wish List offers an experience where reinvented biblical characters engage in captivating contemporary dialogue, technology has made its way into hell, an act of love can embody God and banish evil from the room, and old and young can learn from each other. And it all leads to a poignant ending that uses an unexpected sensory impression to tug at the heartstrings. Douglas J. Ogurek ****