The Bones of True Beauty

The Mandalorian enters the collective consciousness quietly, and with grace. I wonder if people even realize its taking hold, reaching for us without expectation.

The soundtrack enters first, a character in its own right. It almost stands apart, without presumption. But it is also the most important, a cloak you wrap yourself in to enter into this universe. Without it, the tapestry unravels. Its the heartbeat. Its essential. It speaks more than the other creatures and humans we meet, defining them more through sound and rhythm. An inverse development of important beings.

The textures are quilted delicately and with care, of wrinkles and fantastical beasts. Fabric drips with mud. Electronics glow. Clothing frays, helmets gleam. The landscapes cascade, and leave room to imagine. The whole experience leaves you alone. Blissfully so.

The composition is austere and replaces the shiny modernity we have all come to expect once the 90s faded into oblivion and we all became dependent on all storytelling parts to be spoon fed and anything but subtle. Not to mention colors so bright and garish we forgot the erratic colorings of dirt.

This is a soft haze of muted tones and gentle dialogue that dances with true restraint and leaves so much empty space for us to breathe.

Art should always make me feel like this, because in simplicity of structure and storytelling soulfulness can prevail.

Star Wars became its own powerful mythology, defining a generation with its own ideas about humanity and love and forgiveness, and war. Within that world exists a multitude of wealthy characters; not wealthy in gold but in depth and compassion, which we always need more of in this world full of sharp edges.

This show surprised me because it held back and let me really feel things, and I felt my heart ache with appreciation for texture and color and light and asymmetry, and someone making something with pride and exquisite thought.

I can't quite get enough, and its trajectory may change, but these first few episodes take me to that place; a balance of light and shadow, a truth of being alive and translate it into something almost unbearably, undeniably beautiful.

I do not consider myself any kind of expert in these types of things, but I am deeply moved by film and I haven't felt this way in quite some time.

Cheers to the artists that stand by their craft, that aren't afraid of building worlds that have more to them than plastic sheen, and more flesh and bone.

The truth of who we are and the stories we tell that were always about us in the end, and always will be whether we realize it or not.

The link to where I got the photo is below. I claim no credit for any of this gorgeousness.