What Was the Point of 'Skeleton Crew,' Anyway?
A fun, galaxy-spanning romp that ultimately goes nowhere
Spoilers for Skeleton Crew, which you've probably seen unless you rotate streamers, like I do.
Skeleton Crew is a fun addition to the Star Wars experience, a marriage of 1980s Spielberg Americana and the palette and tone of Guardians of the Galaxy. The Star Wars part of the equation is the least influential and often takes a backseat. That’s cool, actually. Part of the reason Captain America: The Winter Soldier bangs so hard is specifically because it’s trying to be something other than a comic book movie.
I also appreciate that Lucasfilm isn’t trying to recreate The Mandalorian or, Yoda forbid, the Skywalker Saga, every time out. The best use of Disney+ is experimenting with different genres and characters you would probably never see in a theatrical release.
Skeleton Crew deserves to exist. I enjoyed watching it, which I can’t say about some of the more mainline Star Wars shows, like Ahsoka. However, I couldn’t escape the sense that I was watching the equivalent of a Disney World ride. Something to wow me and occupy my attention, but ultimately end where it began. What was the show's big takeaway? Other than that Jude Law should’ve been cast in a Star Wars years ago?
The most interesting part of Skeleton Crew is the one thing the show can’t be bothered to explore: The ramifications of a planet hidden from the galaxy since the time of the OG Republic, whose people have developed a definite cult-like attachment to their so-called Great Work and their individual proximity to it. But the delicious questions raised by the show pass the characters by. They don't even care to consider them. Imagine if on Lost, Jack and Sawyer discover the hatch, shrug, and go back to the beach. In what world?
Let me just hit you with a few things.
What does it mean that the Great Work is compiling endless piles of newly-minted gold? Is that a sly bit of social commentary or just a way to create a treasure hoard pirates can feen over?
What is all that gold meant for? I don’t need an itemized list, but a general idea would be nice. “This vault is used for Yoda’s skincare protocol. This one funds Jedi brother-in-law nonsense. This is our pizza party fund.”
Is there a planet specializing in Good, Not Great Works? What about Definitely Mediocre Works? Can we get an Office style mockumentary about the people working on the Definitely Mediocre project?
A minor point, but hear me out: Was Wim’s dad wearing glasses as a stylistic choice, or were they prescription? I believe it’s the first time we’ve ever seen someone in Star Wars wearing glasses. I’ve always assumed a galaxy with droid butlers eradicated the tyranny of astigmatism. We need to form a commission to get to the bottom of this. Wim’s dad: near-sighted or hipster?
Why does nobody on At Attin (the single worst planet name in Star Wars) question the purpose of the Great Work, or why nobody shows up to make a withdrawal? Surely they noticed after a few hundred years? Is there a point at which they’d stop minting gold? Or would the entire planet eventually be converted to vaults, like a doomsday AI scenario where computers execute their prime directive to the exclusion of all else? Speaking of which…
Are we seriously just going to skip over the fact that the Overseer was actually a droid behind the curtain the whole time? Or that the people were basically indentured servants? This should’ve been shocking or at least vaguely surprising to literally everyone, but the show moved right past it.
The fact that some of this is probably-definitely addressed in a novel or comic book does not absolve Skeleton Crew from coming with some details. I’m a huge Star Wars nerd but my days of tracking down obscure lore in tangential material are long gone. I knew much of the old lore, built across decades via novels Disney relegated to a dusty closet after they acquired the Star Wars rights. These days, canon begins and ends with live action. Anything else is optional detail.
As much as I enjoyed the galaxy-hopping adventure—and I really did—it was the questions posed by At Attin (ugh) that captured my imagination. Maybe that’s a me-problem. But dangling tasty morsels and then sending me to bed hungry isn’t just mean, it’s a cheat. I understand those questions were never the point of Skeleton Crew. The story is the story. But also, it's kinda their own damn fault for making the mysteries so mysterious.
The reluctance to engage with questions the show itself asks makes me wonder what the point of all this was.
I don’t think even Lucasfilm themselves can answer that. That’s why the show abruptly ends. No epilogue, no arc-confirming coda, not even a clumsy voice over or text on a screen (Wim eventually regrets not leaving his vintage Republic-era toys in their original packaging; Neel falls to the Dark Side after getting his trunk slammed in a door one too many times.) It just ends. Fade to black.
I was honestly shocked. That's it?
Granted, the show has 4 children as lead characters. Andor it ain't. But even the 80s movies Skeleton Crew so carefully evokes were ultimately about something. There was a sense of progression, of growth and change, of lasting impact. Legacy, if you want to get highfalutin about it. Skeleton Crew has none of that. The most we get is a “the power of friendship” group hug. The show doesn’t even hint at what might happen next. The ride’s over. Go home.
You can rightly say Skeleton Crew isn’t meant for me, a 40-year-old who grew up on the original films. Why then play it like a cover band version of The Goonies? I don’t know who Disney considers the Star Wars core demographic, but any chart that isn’t predominantly made up of Gen X / Millenials is outright lying. We’re the ones who keep showing up. If any kids are interested in Star Wars, it’s likely because they were adopted into it, like Force-sensitive babies conscripted by Jedi.
I don’t want new Star Wars to resemble old Star Wars.
I’m sick to death of Skywalkers. I never want to see another Death Star or Palpatine. Sign me up for Lesbian Space Witches, disgruntled old Jedi Masters, and little cyborg girls. I appreciate Skeleton Crew for veering wildly outside the lines and being weird. We need more of this, and less naked fan service. Like At Attin, Skeleton Crew exists inside a bubble of a much larger universe. I love that. I just wish the show had slightly greater ambitions beyond simply existing.
Every decision to make one show is a decision not to make another. Not even Disney’s pockets are bottomless, and their appetite for throwing money at their streaming service seems to be waning. As much as I enjoyed Skeleton Crew, I can't help but wonder about the opportunity cost. In actual dollars, it cost Disney $136 million. Not my money, but it doesn't feel like a worthwhile investment for a passing amusement.
As I said on a recent podcast, Star Wars feels without direction or purpose. The people at the controls don’t know what to do with it. That’s been the case since the beginning, when their first and presumably best idea was to give us origin stories for characters like Han Solo or Yoda. Sadly, it feels like they haven’t learned anything.
Skeleton Crew is fun. I enjoyed the ride. Or at least the illusion we were going somewhere.
Yup. Agreed.
When the villain said ‘Take me to the mint, the Great Work as you call it,’ I was sure the answer was going to be ‘What do you mean? The mint isn’t the Great Work.’ And then we’d discover a real secret that would justify the whole thing.