Since Disney acquired Lucasfilm in 2012, the debate over the importance of canon in the Star Wars universe has reignighted. One of the most significant shifts came with the decision to reboot the Star Wars Expanded Universe (EU), rebranding it as “Legends” and establishing a new, streamlined canon timeline. This move aimed to create a cohesive narrative for future films, TV shows, books, and comics, but it also alienated a portion of the fanbase deeply attached to the old EU stories.
Additions to the lore in such a beloved franchise require delicate handling. With a built-in audience that holds strong opinions, even minor changes can provoke significant backlash. For instance, tweaking a single aspect of the Force or altering the backstory of a cherished character can spark heated debates and online uproar. The stakes are high when crafting stories in a universe as culturally significant as Star Wars.
Over the past several years Disney has been struggling with its content. From theatrical releases being stalled, parks being closed, and streamers being held on life support. Disney has been overspreading its resources, giving over-budgeted productions with less quality. Ultimately these problems seemed to have reached their peak with Lucusfilm’s latest Star Wars Project the Acolyte.
With the announcement of its cancelation several months ago, It is now time to look back at this show, not as a travesty, but a tragedy.
Anticipation to Disappointment
To start things off, we need to talk about The Acolyte—a show that had so much promise. It was set to explore a brand-new period in Star Wars lore, focusing on original characters during the High Republic era. This timeline, previously only explored in comics and novels, represents the golden age of the Jedi—a time when the Order truly embodied its principles of peace and justice. Finally, Lucasfilm was stepping away from the well-worn Skywalker saga to do something fresh and original.
But there were worrying signs from the beginning. One of my biggest concerns was how they’d handle continuity with the established Star Wars canon. Showrunner Leslye Headland expressed interest in exploring the Sith, despite the fact that, during the High Republic timeline, the Sith are supposed to be in hiding from the Jedi. That raised red flags right away.
There were also concerns about Headland’s experience. Her previous work, like Sleeping with Other People and Russian Doll, consisted mainly of romcoms and smaller-scale projects—not exactly the kind of resume that screams “epic Star Wars series.” Still, I stayed optimistic, determined to approach the show with an open mind and not fall into reactionary cynicism.
Unfortunately, the show didn’t stick the landing. As it stands, The Acolyte is a prime example of a great concept ruined by poor execution. While its ideas looked fantastic on paper, the show feels like a first draft that desperately needed rewriting. Most of the characters are one-dimensional, the pacing is erratic, and its attempts to frame the Jedi as the villains (unironically) fall completely flat.
What could have been an exciting and fresh take on Star Wars storytelling instead feels disjointed and hollow. It’s a disappointing result for a show that had so much potential.
Mystery or lack thereof?
According to the creator herself, The Acolyte is supposed to be a mystery thriller. The problem, however, is that much of the mystery is given away within the first three episodes of the series. This creates a significant issue: the intrigue is lost almost as soon as it’s introduced.
When it comes to any form of media, a compelling mystery requires balance—a dance between what the characters know and what the audience knows. The Acolyte, unfortunately, throws all its cards on the table far too early, and the “mystery” becomes muddled and inconsistent. By giving away critical elements in the beginning and continually shifting the focus, the story loses its grip on the audience.
Initially, the mystery was: Who is killing these Jedi? That question is swiftly answered in the first episode when we learn it’s Osha’s twin sister, Mae. This early reveal could have worked if the show had explored why Mae was assassinating Jedi. And, for a brief moment, it seemed promising. However, the plot takes a turn for the worse in episode two, where the narrative shifts into a series of overly long-flashbacks.
Flashbacks are a tricky storytelling that need to be handled with care because they can disrupt pacing if not executed well. In The Acolyte, the flashbacks add little to the story. If the big mystery—what happened to the witches—was supposed to be the payoff, it’s a weak one. The circumstances surrounding the witches’ downfall feel contrived and lack emotional weight.
For instance, the entire situation stems from Jedi Torbin being homesick and Sol’s obsessive desire for a Padawan, which makes him come across as downright creepy. The witches’ demise is equally contrived. They’re eliminated through a bizarre event where Master Indara essentially mind-wipes their existence out of Kelnaca’s head. Such a significant use of Force powers demands explanation, but the show fails to provide one.
Creator Leslie Headland cited Rashomon as an inspiration, a classic samurai film where a murder is depicted from multiple, conflicting perspectives. Yet Headland seems to miss the point of what made Rashomon brilliant. It’s not just about showing different points of view; it’s about using unreliable narrators that recontextualize the story. The conflicting perceptions force the audience to question what really happened. The Acolyte doesn’t achieve this. Instead of deepening the mystery, it spoon-feeds answers and oversimplifies conflicts.
By episode three, all the show’s momentum is gone. The central mystery has been resolved, leaving viewers stuck with filler episodes. A prime example of this is Qimer’s “surprise” Sith reveal, which was so obvious it felt more like a formality than a revelation.
Mystery thrives on tension, misdirection, and the slow unraveling of secrets. The Acolyte sacrifices all of this in favor of rushed reveals and poorly executed flashbacks, leaving viewers with a story that feels aimless and unsatisfying.
Lackluster/Wasted Characters
When it comes to storytelling, one of the most important elements is how the characters are developed. Sadly, many stories fail to make their characters stand out, leaving us with flat, forgettable personalities.
In this case, the only characters that truly felt real were Sol and Qimer, and that’s mostly due to the performances of the actors. They brought depth to their roles, but when you look at the rest of the cast, things aren’t as strong. The acting felt stiff, especially among the Jedi characters. Take Yord, for example. He spends half the time being a passive-aggressive dork, and then there’s Jeki, who… well, I’m still not sure what her character was supposed to be.
It’s such a waste, too, because the cast was full of talented actors. Carrie-Anne Moss, who was the perfect choice to play a Jedi, gets killed off in the first 10 minutes—what a missed opportunity! And don’t get me started on the Wookie Jedi. This was a unique chance to showcase an incredible combination of physical power, menace, and mastery of the Force with a lightsaber, but instead, they kill him off-screen in the most dismissive way possible. What a letdown.
Perhaps the biggest issue was the Twins May and Osha. Amandla Stenberg is a good actress, she was woefully miscast for this. The characters she’s tasked with portraying are polar opposites—one is quiet, and outgoing, but holds a lot of internal conflict, while the other is a trained assassin who murderers with no remorse. To really sell this, the actor needs to shift between these extremes seamlessly. Sadly, Stenberg struggles to capture the full range needed for such different personalities.
It’s not that she doesn’t try—she does. But the contrast between the two characters feels forced, like she’s playing two characters with the same emotional tone, just in different settings. There’s a lack of nuance when it comes to showing the depth of each personality. The energy just isn’t there to convincingly show how two people who look the same could be so drastically different.
I can see Jena Ortega playing the role much better.
Where did the Money Go
One of the biggest problems Disney has been facing with its recent projects is the oversaturation of their budgets.
Initial reports claimed the show’s budget was $180 million, which is already substantial, putting it on par with a massive production like Dune: Part 2. However, recent tax documents suggest the cost might be as high as $230 million. That’s an eye-watering figure for a streaming series. But the real issue is that very little of that budget seems to be showing on screen.
Much of the set design feels tight and claustrophobic, lacking the sense of scale or immersion you’d expect. A glaring example is the depiction of the Jedi Temple. This iconic location, revisited for the first time since the prequels, feels incredibly constrained. All we get are cramped hallway shots that fail to convey the grandeur or liveliness of such a pivotal Star Wars setting.
Compare that to the prequel trilogy’s Jedi Temple scenes. Those wide, sweeping shots allowed the audience to feel the scale and significance of the temple. This was CGI at its best: while not always realistic, but still massive and immersive. The Acolyte, on the other hand, doesn’t deliver any wide shots that evoke the same sense of awe—an inexcusable shortfall, especially given its astronomical budget.
When you look at other big-budget series released in the same year, like House of the Dragon or The Rings of Power, it’s clear those shows made their money count. Their production values reflect their budgets, with expansive, lived-in worlds that pull viewers in. Even Disney’s other Star Wars projects, like Skeleton Crew, manage to create sets that feel vast and believable.
This raises the question: where did all that money go? Because it certainly wasn’t spent on the sets, and it’s hard to argue it went into the script either. For a franchise known for pushing cinematic boundaries, The Acolyte is a disappointing reminder that a massive budget doesn’t guarantee on-screen magic.
Impossible, you’re not supposed to be here
Most of the criticisms in the Acolyte can be easily forgiven if it’s simply on a script level. What cannot be excused is the blatant contradictions that undermine the lore. Perhaps one of the more infamous is a cameo of Jedi master Ki adi Mundi.
One of the most important Lines mentioned in the prequels is the Jedi’s reaction to Qui Gon Gin’s report that his attacker was a Sith lord. “Impossible the Sith have been extinct for a Millennium”. This has been arguably one of the most important lines of the prequels because it Contextualizes the entire history of Star Wars.
This statement was reinforced by Darth Maul when he said “At last, we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi, At last, we will have revenge.” What’s more based on his training in the Jedi arts wielding a lightsaber indicates that the Sith is the only other faction to use such a weapon.
Since then it has become an unspoken rule in Star Wars media that the Sith can’t openly reveal themselves to the Jedi order until the events of Phantom Menace. It has been clear Master Plan of the Sith over the past 1000 years since is to remain in hiding, undermining the work of the Jedi through the shadows.
But now, in The Acolyte, we get a surprising and frankly jarring contradiction. Ki-Adi-Mundi is back, and it seems like he’s aware of Sith activity long before the events of The Phantom Menace. That’s a huge problem. If the Jedi knew about the Sith all along and chose not to act, well, that just raises more questions about their arrogance and failure to protect the galaxy.
This isn’t just a small oversight. It’s a massive lore-breaking issue that undermines the entire point of The Phantom Menace. Ki-Adi-Mundi was always portrayed as the embodiment of the Jedi Order’s hubris. His blind spots and contradictions were part of his character, and they helped highlight the Jedi’s flaws. Now, though, his knowledge of the Sith seems completely out of place. If anything, he should have been in a different room, working with the rest of the council to investigate the possibility of Sith activity, not casually wandering around as if he’d already been clued in.
If any member of this Jedi council had prior knowledge of a potential Sith then that would raise a horrifying implication that the Jedi knew about the siths return the whole time and did nothing. There is arrogance and the is Stupidity.
Thanks to canon reading material this now makes 5 Jedi council members with likely knowledge of this event and this was never brought up in Phantom Menace. It makes you wonder how they were so caught off guard despite so many obvious red hearings. Why wasn’t this brought up, numerous lives could have been saved if such an incident was reported. Since over a dozen Jedi have died at this point, facts can’t be covered up this easily.
The only explanation they gave as to how somehow all these deaths were never noticed is having Venestra Roe “alone” with no clear rank or standing in order to cover everything up and pin the murders on Sole. Her reason for this is to preserve the Jedi, but this makes no sense given there were numerous people who witnessed pointing to May as the killer. This coverup is destined to fail. This isn’t just a matter of lore broken, it’s a failure of basic storytelling.
Considering we don’t see Mundi after this scene we are led to assume he still remembers there were still “dark siders” still lurking about. To put it simply this was a poorly thought-out cameo.
A failure of deconstruction
When it comes to the Jedi, there’s always been room for criticism, especially with the prequels. The idea that the Jedi were flawed and narrow-minded isn’t new—it’s been a running theme since The Phantom Menace. But there’s a crucial difference: the Jedi’s laws were based on ignorance, not malice. Their failure came from being stuck in their rigid worldview, too unwilling to reform. It’s a commentary on how dogmatic institutions, even with the best intentions, can corrupt a democracy.
That’s where The Acolyte’s portrayal of the Jedi misses the mark. Sure, the Jedi are flawed, but the show takes it a step too far by making them artificially “stupid” just to serve the plot. The entire conflict feels forced—Torban just wants to go home, and Sole wants a padawan, so we get a chain of contrived events. The Jedi’s supposed persecution of other Force users, like in the case of Indara’s mind-wipe, is a stretch at best, and really bad writing at worst.
Now, I’m all for deconstructing the Jedi Order. We saw hints of this in A New Hope when Obi-Wan told Luke that what he said about Vader was “true… from a certain point of view.” The Jedi’s belief in detachment is a flawed view of the Force that makes them blind to the importance of attachment—attachments that are actually essential for their survival. This was expanded on in Knights of the Old Republic, where the Jedi were complicit in morally questionable acts like genocide to prevent the return of the Sith. Their interpretation of the light side wasn’t just misguided; it was a loss of humanity.
The issue with The Acolyte is that it doesn’t explore these flaws in a meaningful way. Instead, it feels like the showrunners checked off a list of “Jedi problems” without making the events feel earned. Take Venestra Roe, for example. She’s the one character who actually embodies the Jedi’s hubris, and in my opinion, she’s the true villain of the series. But even her motives are murky and underdeveloped.
Then there’s the political subplot. The Jedi’s “political enemies” are mentioned, but we never get any depth about who they are or their relationship with the Senate. This lack of clarity leaves a lot of unanswered questions that could have elevated the story.
At the end of the day, other works, like the Knights of the Old Republic games, did this better. They presented morally complex characters and a Jedi Order that felt like it was operating within a flawed, yet logical, system. The Acolyte’s attempt at deconstructing the Jedi just doesn’t hit the mark. It feels like a missed opportunity to dive deeper into the philosophies that have always defined the Jedi but never fully explored.
Unfocused Script
Despite all the hype surrounding this show as a mystery-thriller told from the bad guys’ perspective, it turns out that was all smoke and mirrors. The truth? It’s the same tired subversion tactics we’ve been seeing for years, and frankly, it’s getting old.
The show feels more like an unfinished script with some vague notes jotted down mid-shoot. Take Oshia’s backstory, for example—Yord explains it even though he’s been her Jedi friend and knows all of it. It’s one of those “Why are we explaining this again?” moments that drags the pacing down unnecessarily.
What really irks me is how the plot drives the characters instead of the other way around. Characters should be the ones shaping the story, not the other way around, but here we see May—who’s been hell-bent on killing Jedi—suddenly flipping just because Oshia is alive. There’s no real buildup or reasoning behind it. It’s like the show forgot to justify this shift, and the same can be said for her twin.
Oshia, who’s supposed to be struggling with her emotions, spends the whole series with a blank expression on her face. Not once does she seem to reflect or grow. It’s a missed opportunity for some depth that could’ve made the story so much more engaging.
Then there’s Sol, who could’ve been a key player in revealing the resurgence of the Sith. But he says nothing—another plot thread left dangling.
It’s clear that the show tried to juggle too many ideas at once. It feels like a first draft that was rushed into production, with ideas piled together without any real cohesion. It reminds me a lot of The Rings of Power—a project that seems to have had way too many ideas and no real direction. Sticking to one strong theme can lead to a great show, but when you’re trying to balance multiple unrefined concepts, the result is a mess that just feels pretentious.
And here’s the kicker: the script is so unfocused that even the creator, Leslie Headland, seems to be guessing. In interviews, she’s said things like “I think…” when talking about critical character moments. Leslie, this is your show—you shouldn’t have to think about the key moments, you should know. It’s a frustrating experience when the person at the helm isn’t even clear on what they’re trying to say.
Botched messages
In a time where the political climate feels as tense as ever, The Acolyte came under fire from the “online culture warriors” even before its release. The series, while trying to bring something new to the Star Wars universe, missed a critical point. Instead of making us think about the Jedi’s role in the galaxy, it feels like it wants to do the thinking for us.
Leslie Headland, the show’s creator, has been open about how her personal experiences growing up as a lesbian influenced her work. While it’s true that many directors pull from their own lives, it feels like The Acolyte takes these influences in a very twisted direction. Instead of exploring the core themes that make Star Wars universally resonant—family, legacy, power, and redemption—the show introduces a muddled focus on institutional power and moral ambiguity. This isn’t necessarily a bad premise; it could’ve worked with more care, but the execution falls short.
The core issue with The Acolyte is that it attempts to portray the Jedi as a flawed institution, caught in the tension between its role as both protector and moral compass of the galaxy. However, this was already explored—more effectively—in The Prequels and Clone Wars. Those series showcased the Jedi’s hubris, their reluctance to change, and their entanglement in a corrupt Senate that kept them from truly fulfilling their role. The Acolyte doesn’t build on these themes; it instead seems to side with the “villains,” a move that just doesn’t work for the story it’s trying to tell.
Qimer’s character is a prime example. He kills an entire squad of Jedi, including Osha’s friends, and yet, just one episode later, we see Osha seduced by him with no real build-up to justify it. It’s clear that Headland’s personal attachment to the dark side of the Force is influencing her writing in a way that feels unhealthy. Characters like Qimer and the Twins seem to be extensions of her own narrative, but that doesn’t make them compelling protagonists. We’re not supposed to sympathize with villains just because they’re “hot” or charming.
And there’s another troubling undertone that deserves more attention—The Acolyte flirts with pro-suicide messaging through characters like Torben and Sol. But that’s a subject for another post.
In the end, The Acolyte could’ve been a fresh take on Star Wars, but it missed the mark by losing sight of what truly made the franchise resonate in the first place. Instead of giving us a story about redemption or legacy, it leaves us questioning the very things that made Star Wars great.
Show by Committee
If there’s one thing The Acolyte embodies, it’s Disney’s ongoing existential struggle with what it wants Star Wars to be. The show feels like it’s stuck in a perpetual tug-of-war between trying to deconstruct the Star Wars mythos in a dark, thought-provoking way and being a lighthearted romp because let’s face it, those “Disney checkmarks” aren’t going to tick themselves.
Take Basil, for example. Why is Basil here? Is it for comic relief? A token audience-pleaser? A sidekick no one asked for but got anyway? It’s as if the creative team had grand ambitions to push boundaries, only to have someone at Disney barge into the room waving a spreadsheet that said: “Needs more jokes and at least one marketable alien sidekick!”
The result is a show that feels like it’s at war with itself. One moment, it’s teasing a gritty examination of the Force and moral ambiguity; the next, it’s throwing in a goofy bit that feels ripped straight from an entirely different genre.
Don’t get me wrong—Star Wars is vast, and there’s room for different tones and approaches. But The Acolyte feels less like a creative vision and more like the product of a committee trying to balance too many contradictory ideas. And that, in many ways, mirrors Disney’s larger approach to the Star Wars franchise: trying to cater to everyone while forgetting to commit to something.
Maybe it’ll all come together in the end, but for now, The Acolyte is a fascinating (and sometimes frustrating) reflection of Star Wars’ post-Disney identity crisis.
Finale thoughts
It’s hard to ignore the tragedy of The Acolyte and its untimely cancellation. The show had so much potential, yet it feels like a wasted opportunity. While I don’t hate it—”hate” is a strong word—I can’t defend it either. Where it falters most is in its script. There were a lot of talented people involved, and many of the actors did a good job, but their skills were completely wasted. The writing just didn’t give them much to work with.
One of the show’s biggest issues is its tone. It swings wildly between serious moments and comedic ones, almost like a bad Marvel film. It never quite settles into a rhythm, making it hard to engage with.
It’s far from the worst of Disney’s Star Wars content, but I can’t think of another show that shot itself in the foot quite like this. It’s so disappointing, especially considering where Star Wars was a decade ago—on top of the world, celebrated by fans everywhere. Now, it feels like just another generic sci-fi series.
The Acolyte didn’t need to be groundbreaking. It just needed to be satisfying. And sadly, it wasn’t. For a franchise with such a rich legacy, this feels like an insult.
Looking back, The Acolyte isn’t just a misstep; it’s a tragedy. Its cancellation reflects the broader struggles of the Star Wars franchise under Disney’s leadership. It’s a reminder of the delicate balance between respecting the legacy of Star Wars and introducing fresh ideas that speak to both new and old fans.
As Star Wars moves forward, it’s crucial to find that balance. Maybe the end of The Acolyte will serve as a wake-up call for Lucasfilm and Disney to rethink their approach. Fans are hoping that one day, Star Wars will return to being the unifying cultural force it once was, not just a source of division.
