LEGO STAR WARS: REBUILD THE GALAXY. It’s a Wonderful Fandom [REVIEW]

It’s hard to satisfy “Star Wars” fans. It’s an open secret that this is one of the most toxic fandoms in modern pop culture: perpetually unsatisfied, constantly frustrated, and treating the canon as a sacred text. After the release of “The Phantom Menace”, George Lucas learned this lesson, and now his successors at Disney are experiencing the same. The collective dissatisfaction from fans has real clout—it can influence studio decisions. Examples are close at hand: the poor reception of the first season of “The Acolyte” led to the show’s immediate cancellation. Mixed feelings about the bold choices in “The Last Jedi” resulted in the return of the safer J.J. Abrams for “The Rise of Skywalker”.

As the saying goes, every stick has two ends. In Alexandre O. Philippe’s excellent documentary “The People vs. George Lucas”, there’s a very pertinent question: who really owns “Star Wars”? Its original creator, or an undefined group of enthusiasts who are unhappy with the officially chosen direction? Times have changed, the franchise’s owner has too, but the question still holds weight: who matters more—creators and their individual vision, or the audience that needs to be pleased because “they know better”? “LEGO Star Wars: Rebuild the Galaxy” gently suggests it’s the latter—but it doesn’t approach the topic uncritically.

The main character of the new “Star Wars” miniseries is, fittingly, a “Star Wars” fan. Specifically, Sig Greebling—a seemingly insignificant nerfherder from Fennesa. When not caring for his furry creatures, Sig enjoys telling stories, and his favorites, of course, are those of the Skywalker family. Friends gather around the fire as Sig revisits the immortal classics (or reheated leftovers): Anakin’s transformation into Darth Vader, the Battle of Endor, Luke’s duel with Kylo Ren. His enthusiasm could fill an entire planet—”Star Wars” canon is his alpha and omega, and other people’s stories seem more engaging than his own. Everything changes, however, when Sig and his brother Dev stumble upon a hidden Jedi temple and remove a block, the so-called Cornerstone, that holds the galaxy in balance.

And then everything literally changes. In an instant, the universe that George Lucas gifted us disappears. The Ewoks are now dangerous bounty hunters, Palpatine is one of the last living and loyal Jedi, and under every stormtrooper helmet hides Admiral Ackbar’s face. On one hand, “Rebuild the Galaxy” deals with the popular multiverse theme, and on the other, it follows the classic alternate-reality trope, used regularly since Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Much like George Bailey, Sig longs for only one thing: to return to normal. To do that, he must find another Jedi temple and place the fateful block back in its rightful place.

This premise primarily serves as a springboard for the creators, Dan Hernandez and Benji Samit, to indulge in a carefree, self-referential romp. A new galaxy means unlimited creative possibilities. Within its bounds, one can bring to life the famous Darth Jar Jar theory, turn Luke Skywalker into a cunning conman like Han Solo, or marry Greedo to Princess Leia (and revisit the age-old debate about who shot first). The joy of watching “Rebuild the Galaxy” comes from discovering each new deviation from the canon, seeing beloved characters in surprising new circumstances. All this, of course, is peppered with heavy fan service. Iconic roles are reprised by Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker), Anthony Daniels (C-3PO), and Ahmed Best (Jar Jar Binks). Fan theories, popularized with the rise of the internet, are finally validated. And I’m not just talking about the dark side of Jar Jar Binks. One of the most important characters in “Rebuild the Galaxy” is Jedi Bob. He originally appeared as an anonymous minifigure in a 2002 LEGO set, but the set was so popular that fans decided to name the nameless Jedi. Thus, Bob was born: a character created by fans and later “adopted” and legitimized by Disney.

The trouble is that this ever-multiplying fan service quickly overshadows the miniseries’ actual plot. This issue was also evident in Hernandez and Samit’s earlier scripts. The plot in “Detective Pikachu” was painfully thin, mainly serving to cram as many animated Pokémon as possible into the frame. Here, it’s similar. Familiar faces keep appearing on screen, but the plot doesn’t move forward. The characters visit different planets, there’s the obligatory fight scene, the Cornerstone changes hands, and the cycle repeats. Along the way, there are few truly exciting events; most scenes are overly talky and bogged down with meta jokes—instead of an engaging story, we get an endless parade of Easter eggs. Throughout the four episodes (each about 20-25 minutes long), we follow the thread to its end—until a mildly surprising, bittersweet finale that mirrors the famous conclusion of “It’s a Wonderful Life”.

The timing of the release influences, at least to some degree, how Hernandez and Samit’s miniseries is received. After the loud cancellation of “The Acolyte”, “Rebuild the Galaxy” feels like an attempt at damage control—a band-aid on the open wound of disillusioned fanboys. Yet, if we try to find a message in the miniseries, it would probably be: focus on writing your own story. Circumstances force Sig to step out of his comfort zone, to leave the safe haven of other people’s tales. Only then does he have the chance to fully experience life (checking off points from Campbell’s monomyth along the way). Sure, “Star Wars” is awesome, but the world doesn’t end with it. It would be good if the most diehard fans of the saga took this message to heart.