A Love Letter to Andor: The Unsung Masterpiece of the Star Wars Universe
- Iain Luke Jones
- May 16
- 3 min read

This post might be a little different from what I usually write. I’ve never formally declared that this blog would only be about voice acting, improv, writing, or any one thing in particular, so I’m going with the rule of “my blog, my rules.” And today, I feel compelled to talk about something that’s had a real impact on me: the TV show Andor.
To put it simply: Andor is brilliant. So brilliant, in fact, that it inspired me to rewatch Rogue One (one of my all-time favourite Star Wars films), and the experience was even more rewarding this time around. Knowing more about the characters and their journeys deepened every moment. It also made me appreciate just how seamlessly Rogue One transitions into A New Hope. But while I could talk for ages about those films, I want to focus on the show itself.
When Andor was first announced, I remember wondering why they’d chosen to explore Cassian’s backstory. If any Rogue One character seemed ripe for a spin-off, surely it was Jyn Erso? But I’m an optimistic Star Wars fan—grateful for the stories we get rather than being the kind to tear them apart detail by detail.
That said, a few episodes into season one, I was starting to wonder. The pacing felt slow. I couldn’t see the direction. It was all build-up and no payoff… until it wasn’t. By the end of season one, I was basically applauding in my living room. The slow burn delivered in a way that few shows do. Every thread pulled tight, every detail paid off. It was masterful. I couldn’t wait to see what came next.
Then—nothing. Silence. Was that it? Was the story going to be left hanging?
Eventually, word came that Andor would return for one final season. My first thought: “How are they going to transition into Rogue One in just one season?” Then I heard that the format would be a series of three-episode arcs—like standalone mini-movies—and I was intrigued, if a bit sceptical.
Now, having watched season two, I can confidently say: it’s one of the most compelling things I’ve seen on television. Ever.
When we watch the original trilogy, we hear about the rebels. We hear that they got the Death Star plans. But we don’t really think about what that meant. Andor makes you think. It takes those vague, off-screen sacrifices and makes them real, personal, human. It shows us the cost of rebellion—not just in terms of strategy and skirmishes, but in terms of lives, morality, and what it means to stand up for something bigger than yourself.
Watching season two coincided with the 80th VE Day celebrations here in the UK, and the timing couldn’t have felt more poignant. It made me think about the real soldiers—those who endured hardship and gave everything so that people like me can sit comfortably and write blog posts about fictional universes. It’s so easy to take their sacrifice for granted. Andor reminds us that history, both real and fictional, is full of unsung heroes. Writer Tony Gilroy nails that message with haunting precision.
When a show makes you reflect on life, sacrifice, and legacy—it’s not just entertainment. It’s art. And Andor hit me in all the right ways.
Rogue One managed to unite the Star Wars fandom in celebration—something that rarely happens—and Andor has done the same. We always knew how it had to end. These characters couldn’t live on, or they’d have shown up in the original films. But that inevitability doesn’t dull the heartbreak. If anything, it makes it more profound.
The fact that Andor flows directly into Rogue One, which flows straight into A New Hope, has somehow enhanced all three stories tenfold. What was already a standout corner of the Star Wars galaxy has become something truly unforgettable.
So basically, what I’m saying is this:
WATCH ANDOR!
You won’t regret it.
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