With The Acolyte canceled after one season and the future of the franchise uncertain, now is the time to take a hard look at what went wrong.
The Acolyte wasn’t just a failure of execution—it was a failure of storytelling itself. Suffering from inconsistent character motivations, a plot that somehow felt both slow and rushed, and an uneven tone that swung between dark and brooding to juvenile Marvel-style humor. On top of that, the script felt unfocused, as if even the director wasn’t entirely sure what story was being told.
That said, The Acolyte did have some interesting ideas. This list will explore key changes that could have improved the series, taking the good concepts and making them work in a way the show never quite managed to. It wouldn’t have fixed everything, but it would have fixed a lot of the core pieces this show needed.
The Jedi’s “Political enemies” introduced earlier
One of The Acolyte’s most underutilized elements was the Jedi’s relationship with the Galactic Senate. At this point in the SW timeline, the Jedi were at the height of their power, embodying their ideals of peace and justice while serving a Republic that valued openness and democracy. The show had a real opportunity to explore the early cracks forming in the Republic—cracks that would eventually lead to its downfall a century later in The Phantom Menace.
The closest we got was the introduction of Senator Rayencourt, whose anti-Jedi sentiments had been spreading in the Senate. He argues that the Jedi are an unchecked institution hiding behind a religious facade. The issue isn’t that this perspective lacks merit—it’s that the scene where it’s introduced feels more like the writers making a statement rather than an organic character moment.
The real problem with this scene is timing. Venestra’s subplot with Rayencourt is introduced too late, in the final episode. This is point where the season should have been resolving its key storylines. Instead, it introduces a new conflict, taking time away from more pressing narratives that need closure like Oshia’s conflict with her sister. It’s clear this storyline was intended for a second season that ultimately never materialized. This highlights an important lesson in storytelling—the first seasons should be as self-contained as possible. The Acolyte left too many open questions with no satisfying answers.
A better approach would have been introducing Senator Rayencourt as a secondary antagonist by the season’s midpoint. His political maneuvering could have served as a slow-burning subplot, adding depth to the Jedi’s place in the Republic. Additionally, the show could have tied his bills to a powerful financial backer—Hugo Damask, better known to Star Wars fans as Darth Plagueis. This connection would have added intrigue, as well as a logical reason for Jedi Master Vernestra Rwoh to cover up her apprentice Qimir’s crimes—she couldn’t afford a scandal while political tensions were at an all-time high.
A stronger season-ending cliffhanger could have come in the form of Rayencourt’s Jedi Audit Law (which never got resolved) passing the Senate. This new meassure would have authorized the Senate to exert more control over the Jedi. This would have provided meaningful foreshadowing for a potential second season, where the Jedi find themselves increasingly bound by Senatoral authority, setting the stage for their eventual role as the Republic’s enforcers rather than its independent peacekeepers.
It’s possible that The Acolyte’s original plan was to explore this gradual shift in a second season. Unfortunately, with no renewal, that vision never came to fruition—leaving one of the show’s most compelling ideas frustratingly underdeveloped.
Mae is dead all along.
One of The Acolyte’s major issues was the lack of real mystery in what was supposed to be a mystery thriller. The show initially set up a Fugitive-style narrative with Osha as the prime suspect, only to eliminate that potential by episode 1, revealing her twin sister, Mae, as the actual culprit.
Early on, the show teased an intriguing possibility when Osha crash-landed in a cave and experienced visions of her sister, nearly pulling her into an abyss. This moment hinted at something far more complex, but the potential was never fully explored.
A more compelling twist could have been to reveal that Mae had died years ago, and what Osha was experiencing was not just grief, but a manifestation of her own dark-side subconscious. Flashback episodes could have shown Osha’s Jedi training and her struggle to conceal her emotions—not because they were inherently negative, but because they were a sign of a deeper darkness within her. This could have created a compelling Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde dynamic, where Osha’s battling darkness within herself that she had long suppressed.
Given that the witch cult the twins were part of uses the Force in unconventional ways, it wouldn’t have been too far-fetched to suggest that they possessed the ability to transfer their essence after death. In this interpretation, Mae’s dark-side witch powers could have absorbed her essence into Osha, keeping her alive in a twisted form. While this concept is a bit of a stretch, it would have offered a fresh and unique take on the dark side, distinct from anything we’ve seen before in Star Wars lore.
The Witches were Preying on nearby settlements, oh and lived in a giant tree
One of the most criticized elements of The Acolyte is the portrayal of the Witches of Brendock. Beyond their cringe-worthy rituals, there’s little that feels fresh or engaging about them, leaving their role in the story underwhelming.
However, the show does hint at an intriguing concept. By the end of the series, it’s implied that Osha and Mae are essentially two halves of a single consciousness, suggesting that at some point, one person was sacrificed or consumed to create two powerful beings. To do this, the witches would have needed a steady supply of sacrifices—voluntary or otherwise.
A more interesting approach would have been to place the witches on Brendock, a planet with emerging colonial settlements. These settlers would begin disappearing, with their disappearances gradually linked to the witches’ efforts to create the “perfect being.” This would have given the Jedi a more traditional heroic role—actively working to stop these nefarious acts—rather than the “subversive” portrayal that’s been overplayed in recent Star Wars media.
Another significant change would be reimagining the witches’ coven as living inside a massive tree. The “fire in space” criticism is often discussed, but a more fitting issue is the notion of fire burning down a “stone fortress.” Living in a giant tree would make a little more sense with everything burning around them.
The Jedi team was not a science team, but a secret strike team
One of the reasons the witches’ deaths at the hands of the Jedi didn’t have the impact they should have was that the confrontation felt painfully forced. The conflict happened because Sol (uncharacteristically) acted creepy about wanting a padawan, while Tomon wanted to “go home” like a child—not a teenager.
The more frustrating part is that I can see what Leslie Headland was trying to do. The Jedi were meant to serve as an allegory for religious persecution, and to be fair, there are some in-universe sources that support this theme. However, if you want to show the Jedi as persecuted, then show Jedi persecution—don’t tiptoe around it.
As someone who has studied the expanded universe, I can see where Headland was going. In the old expanded universe (now designated as Legends), the line between light and dark side of the force was often more blurred than how it is depicted in the films. The Jedi, who are forbidden to marry or have families, and typically recruit children at a very young age. Families of Force-sensitive children are often “obligated” by Republic law to send their children into the Jedi Order.
The Jedi view emotions like love, fear, and anger as dangerous and destructive, which is why they discourage other factions from using the Force—such powers are seen as too dangerous in untrained hands. In effect, the Jedi have a monopoly on the Force, and they treat those who operate outside their code with suspicion.
To make the Jedi more than just passive observers, the four Jedi in The Acolyte could have been sent to Brendock to spy on the witches, particularly when it became clear they had the ability to create life. Their first action would have been to root out what they saw as a dangerous heresy.
Additionally, the planet Brendock is within the Republic’s orbit, allowing the Jedi to exercise their “judicial powers.” While this might seem un-Jedi-like at first glance, it would have worked if handled properly—especially with one final change that could have fixed many of the series’ issues
Venestra Rwoh is an established council member and head of a secret Jedi Faction
Out of all the frustrating characters in The Acolyte, Venestra Ro stands out the most. In The High Republic novels, she is introduced as a teenage Jedi prodigy, a warrior and leader beyond her years. Fast forward about a century, and she should be a commanding presence in the Jedi Order. Instead, the show presents her as a hollow, Gandalf-like figure—wise in theory but lacking any charisma or gravitas.
Leslie Headland, the showrunner (who is also married to the actress playing Venestra), described her in an interview with Collider as “a representation of institutional power.” The idea is that Venestra is so devoted to the Jedi’s purpose that she would do anything to preserve the Order’s reputation. That’s an interesting concept—if only the show actually explored it. Most of the time, she just… exists.
Then there’s the issue of her authority. Venestra is constantly giving orders and keeping secrets, but is she actually on the Jedi Council? It’s never made clear. Given that she’s over a hundred years old and was a major figure in the High Republic era, you’d think she’d hold a high-ranking Council position. But instead of establishing this, the show leaves us guessing. She frequently hides information from the Council, but why? Is she acting independently? Is she afraid of them? The show never tells us.
Imagine a show about Henry Kissinger where we’re never told he was Secretary of State. That’s what The Acolyte does with Venestra Rwoh. It’s unclear whether the writers overestimated the audience’s ability to infer details or just didn’t think it was important enough to address. Either way, it’s character establishment.
All the show needed was one simple scene: Venestra sitting with the Jedi Council, discussing Order politics. That alone would have established her position and importance without any exposition dumps.
One more element that would have fixed this show was there was a secret Jedi cult within the order itself that Venestra is the head of. This is a militant faction whose only mission is to snuff out the dark “by any means necessary”, even if it means compromising their Jedi code.
Having a secret, Ultra-militant, hardline faction inside the order would help a great deal in expanding on the jedi, that they weren’t just a homogenious cult. Heaving different factions would also help muddy the jedi’s position in the galaxy much easier to comprehend. It also raises the issue of accountability, should the a whole religious order be held accountable for the actions of an extremist few?
Concluding Thoughts
These changes likely wouldn’t have fixed everything about The Acolyte—the stiff acting, shaky pacing, and arguably questionable morals would still be present. However, they would have gone a long way in better conveying what Leslie Headland was trying to achieve.
There have been many accusations directed at Headland, accusing her of using Star Wars to push her own political agenda. Such accusations ignore the fact that star wars has always had political undertones, Lucuas himself said that his origional films were based on the Vietnam War. I view the situation differently, I see this as the consequense someone who is a huge fan of Star Wars but perhaps inexperienced in overseeing a project of this scale. This is a pitfall that many ambitious artists fall into—having big ideas but lacking the experience or understanding of how to handle a large production.
Producing raunchy rom-coms doesn’t always translate into being a successful showrunner for a major Star Wars series.
For these reasons, The Acolyte should be seen as a tragedy—there was immense potential that ultimately got lost due to executive decisions and, perhaps, the inexperience of those involved. It’s a missed opportunity to see a fresh and bold take on the Star Wars universe.
